Kiss This by L.L. Muir

Author:L.L. Muir [Muir, L.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lesli Muir Lytle
Published: 2014-07-18T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mal's heart sunk when she realized she was no longer alone with Bennett St. John, that she wouldn't be sitting before the fire all night with a handsome prince, trying to kiss him without her heart knowing about it.

The music, at least, was no phantom. St. John led the way, using one arm to keep her behind him as they followed the sound. Apparently, he expected the mysterious harpist to be dangerous. Mal bit the side of her lip and tried not to laugh. After all, he was trying to be gallant. But they both stopped short when they entered the ballroom and found the place well-lit.

Mal's first thought was that the causeway had been opened and London had arrived and had lit all the candles. The idea should have made her happy, but instead, it felt like a weight on her chest.

She walked around St. John's protective arm and looked for her friend, but there was only one new addition to their party —an old man with thick white hair who sat in the alcove with the harp leaned back against his shoulder. His fingers hardly moved, but produced a flawless tune. It was familiar, somehow, but at the same time, she felt like it was new. Maybe there was a bar or two that reminded her of something else.

St. John moved up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her against him while they waited for the song to end. Of course it ended just as St. John's warmth made it through the layers of her coat.

“Good Evenin',” called the old man.

“Good Evening.” St. John took her hand and walked with her to the alcove. The harpist tipped the harp back on its base, then stood and bowed.

But the harpist wasn't a harpist at all; he was one of the men she'd hired. He was dressed in white and green livery.

“I'm Mallory, from Ivy and Stone. Are you our doorman?” She shook his offered hand.

“Aye, I am that, though I’ve been known to drive a carriage or two. The name is Ferguson.”

007 stood there like he was waiting to be introduced, so Mal introduced him.

“Yer lairdship,” the old man said, then bowed even lower than before. Mal laughed, then realized Pem's brother probably got treated that way at home.

He was so out of her league.

“Tell me, Ferguson. How did you manage to reach the island?”

Two white brows rose high on his wrinkled forehead. “I didna come by boat, that's certain.”

St. John frowned.

Ferguson seemed to realize his answer wasn't good enough. “I suppose I came same as you, but early on. I went to the gentleman's dressing quarters, put on me finery, then laid down to take a wee nap. I only woke when me teeth started chatterin'. When I realized I was here alone, I lit the candles, hoping the chase the chill from the room, and thought my fingers might warm faster if I plucked a string or two, aye?”

St. John looked at Mal and lifted a brow.

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