Not Just a Wallflower. Carole Mortimer

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Название Not Just a Wallflower
Автор произведения Carole Mortimer
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472004215



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acted upon that interest, given that his grandmother had so newly appointed him Eleanor’s unofficial guardian, was unacceptable. To himself as well as it must be to Eleanor. Indeed, she appeared to be so horror-struck by his advances that she stood in front of him as still, and as cold, as the statue she now resembled.

      Justin pulled back abruptly, his hands grasping the tops of her arms as he placed her firmly away from him, at the same time unable to stop himself from noticing that her lip was a little swollen from where his teeth had seconds ago nibbled upon it. ‘Perhaps, in future, it would be as well if you desisted from challenging me by insulting me?’ he added harshly in a desperate attempt to divert her attention away from his despicable behaviour.

      ‘You—I—’ Ellie gasped her indignation, eyes wide and accusing at the unfairness of being blamed for his shockingly familiar behaviour. She now wrenched completely out of his grasp to glare up at him. ‘You are worse than conceited, sir! You are nothing more than—’

      ‘Yes, yes,’ he dismissed in a bored voice, knowing he had to carry on now as he had started. ‘I have no doubt I am a rake and a cad, and many other unpleasant things, in your innocent eyes.’ He eyed her mockingly as he straightened the lace cuffs of his shirt beneath his jacket. ‘You will need to be a little more subtle, my dear, if you are to learn to rebuff the advances of the gentlemen of the ton without also insulting them.’

      ‘And why should I care whether they feel insulted, if they have dared to take the same liberties you just did?’ Ellie asked scornfully.

      ‘Because it is part of the game, Eleanor,’ he explained, hoping she would believe him.

      She stilled, eyes narrowed. ‘Game...?’

      He gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘How else is a man to know whether or not he likes a woman enough to marry her, let alone bed her, if he does not first flirt with her and take a liberty or two?’

      She breathed shallowly. ‘You are saying that you—that your reason for—for making love to me just now was your way of preparing me for the advances of other gentlemen?’

      He raised a golden brow at her comment. ‘A mere taste of your lips cannot exactly be called lovemaking, Eleanor.’

      Her cheeks flushed. ‘You will answer the question!’

      He shrugged wide, indifferent shoulders. ‘Are you now prepared?’

      Was Ellie ‘prepared’ for the assault upon her senses that had resulted when he had nibbled upon, and tasted, her lips? Could anything have ‘prepared’ her for having her heart stop beating as it leapt into her throat? For the aching heat that had suffused her body? For the way her legs had turned to jelly, threatening to no longer support her? For the thrill of the excitement that had run so hotly through her veins!

      And all the time she had been feeling those things he had merely been ‘preparing’ her for the advances of the other gentlemen of society...

      She straightened, her shoulders back, chin held proudly high. ‘I am “prepared” enough to know I shall administer my knee to a vulnerable part of any gentleman’s anatomy should he ever attempt to take such liberties with me!’

      The duke gave a pained wince. ‘Then my time with you this evening has not been wasted.’

      Had there ever existed a gentleman as arrogant, as insufferable, as this particular one had just proved to be? Somehow Ellie doubted it. Nor did she intend to suffer his company this evening for one minute longer!

      She stepped back, her gaze cool. ‘I believe it time that I went upstairs and checked upon the dowager.’

      Blond brows rose in disbelief. ‘Are you dismissing me, Eleanor?’

      Her mouth set stubbornly as she refused to be cowed by his haughty arrogance. ‘Did it sound as if I were?’

      ‘Yes.’

      She gave a small smile of her own. ‘Then that is what I must have been doing.’

      Justin gave a surprised bark of laughter at the same time as he cursed the fact that he had realised only this evening that he found this particular young woman so damned entertaining. It was, to say the least, inconvenient, if not downright dangerous, to his peace of mind, if nothing else. As he had realised when he had kissed her just now. A mistake on his part, which Justin had felt it necessary to explain by dismissing it as a lesson for Eleanor’s future reference—even if the lesson he had learnt had been not to kiss her again. ‘I am a duke, Eleanor, you are an impoverished stepcousin; as such it is not permissible for you to dismiss me.’

      She raised auburn brows. ‘Another lesson in social etiquette, your Grace?’

      Gods, this woman had enough pride and audacity to tempt any man— Justin brought those thoughts to an abrupt halt, a scowl darkening his brow as he looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘One of many ahead of me, I fear,’ he taunted. ‘Your social skills appear to have been sadly neglected, my dear.’ And he, Justin acknowledged bleakly, would have to take great care in future not to ‘enjoy’ those lessons too much!

      Colour blazed in Eleanor’s cheeks at his deliberate insult. ‘I assure you that I am perfectly well aware of how to behave in the company of both ladies and gentleman without your help, sir.’

      ‘Your implication being that you do not consider me as being one of the latter?’

      There was no missing the dangerous edge to his tone now, and Ellie—in keeping with her changed circumstances in life a year ago—wisely decided to heed that warning. This time. ‘There was no implication intended, your Grace. Now, if you will excuse me...’ She gave a brief curtsy before crossing to the library door.

      ‘And if I do not excuse you?’

      Ellie came to an abrupt halt, her heart pounding loudly in her chest, the hand she had raised to open the door trembling slightly as she turned to face Justin. ‘Do you have something more you wished to say to me tonight, your Grace?’

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