A Cinderella for the Viscount by Liz Tyner

Author:Liz Tyner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-04-01T17:53:42+00:00

* * *

Three taps. Pause. Four taps. Pause. Then five taps.

Finally, a butler answered the door.

‘Tell Miss Albright the Viscount is here for her.’

The man hesitated and Devlin stepped inside. ‘Now, please.’ Devlin ended the request with a small bow that took the butler by surprise. ‘Thank you,’ Devlin added, as if Rachael were already on her way.

‘Of course,’ the servant answered and left to do as Devlin asked.

He’d just entered a man’s house and convinced a servant to do his bidding, and he wasn’t certain the butler even questioned it after the first momentary falter of surprise. A butler was trained to do as requested. A viscount was trained to request.

In a few minutes, the man returned, and led Devlin to a sitting room.

Rachael stood behind the sofa, waiting, almost mouse-like, as if she might skitter to some dark place of solitude. She watched her hand trace the pattern on the upholstery. Except for the intense scrutiny she gave to a fabric she must have seen thousands of times, he would have assumed by her expression that she didn’t know he was in the room.

Relief overtook him, but his annoyance didn’t evaporate. It seemed almost fuelled by the sight of her and the unfamiliar irritation warred with the relaxed poise imbedded in him. He felt jostled by his own body.

He absorbed the pale blue of her dress, the tousled hair piled on her head, the slender arm outstretched, and another, stronger surge of exasperation flooded into him. How could that daft Tenney not note how far above him she was and not get down on his knees and beg her to forgive him for even thinking himself worthy of her.

‘How did you like the soirée?’ he asked, his voice sounding like someone else’s. Someone he didn’t recognise. Or, perhaps he did. His father.

‘You know well that I didn’t go.’

‘Yes.’ He stepped to the front of the sofa, at war with himself over the need to be closer to her and yet keep a barrier between them.

‘My mother once hired a companion for herself and part of the woman’s job was to teach Father proper speech. I kept remembering it and fearing I’d say the words as he sometimes does.’

‘To every newly born babe the world is a trial. Not every new adventure is easy.’

‘It’s easier for you. For them.’ Her perfect chin jutted and her eyes sparked anger, and he absorbed it like a plant moving to the sunshine.

‘For the others at the dance it is something they have been a part of since they were children.’ The ire in her face softened and her words matched. ‘They know each other and they visit with friends there. I am a newcomer to that part of society.’

Instantly, her softness pulled him closer and he couldn’t keep the sofa between them, but walked around. She reached out for him, clasping his hand.

His mind crashed in all different directions at once, remembering how he’d rushed to save her, unaware of his steps or his life or surroundings, only moving for her safety.

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