Lyons Gate (tb-9) by Catherine Coulter

Author:Catherine Coulter [Coulter, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love_history

CHAPTER 23

Jason nearly fell over. A siren’s voice coming out of a filthy face. Lord Renfrew rose quickly to his feet, nearly en pointe. He said in a loud voice, “I am very pleased, my dear, very pleased indeed. I always believed you were delightfully accommodating.”

“Did you really, my lord? How very gallant of you to say so. May I ask why?”

Lord Renfrew gurgled deep in his throat.

She preened, black face and all.

So she’d heard that, had she? Jason walked to her, stopped not a half-foot from her nose and reached out his hand. He began twisting a long tangled hank of hair that fell nearly to her breast. He leaned closer, his warm breath on her cheek, lust in his eyes. “You smell like smoke.”

She batted her eyelashes, but didn’t move, felt his fingers wrapping round and round her hair. She said, “Does it displease you, Jason, the smoke? I do so ever wish to please you.”

“I will think about that.” He tugged her hair, then stepped back. “Please don’t sit down in that dirty dress, Hallie. Our furniture is new and it would be a shame to dirty it up so soon.”

Lord Renfrew pulsed with questions, none of which he could ask in Hallie’s presence, dammit. He cleared his throat. She looked over at him. A witch, she looked like a witch. What if she wanted to touch him? Perhaps he should step back so she couldn’t easily reach him. “Perhaps, Miss Carrick-Hallie-you’d best go to your bedchamber and prepare yourself.”

“Prepare myself for what exactly? Oh, you mean the way I do for Jason?”

Jason shook his head, wagged his finger at her. “You baggage, where are your manners? You will shock poor Lord Renfrew. Who did you say you were, Lord Renfrew? A longtime friend of Miss Carrick’s? Perhaps a friend of her father’s? You don’t have a grandfather still living, do you, Hallie?”

“No, my father’s father died many years ago, long before I was born. My father became Baron Sherard when he was only seventeen. Genny’s father died when I was only five.”

Lord Renfrew said, “I came into my title two years ago. I am Viscount Renfrew, you know.”

“I didn’t know,” Jason said, “but it has a nice ring to it.”

“I would like my tea.”

“Certainly,” Hallie said, pouring a cup and nearly spilling it in his lap when Lord Renfrew said to Jason, “I am a very close friend of Miss Carrick’s. Indeed, it would be more accurate to say that we were beyond close. I never met her father, although I would have met both her parents if things had progressed in the smooth way they were meant to progress.”

Hallie said to Jason, “It’s hard to be smooth when one is picking flowers in another garden, don’t you think?”

The air pulsed with hot silence, until Jason said, voice limp as a dead lily, “So you excel at growing flowers, my lord? Perhaps you will give us advice on what to do with our gardens. My mother planted the primroses beneath the front windows.

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