The Taste of Innocence by Stephanie Laurens

Author:Stephanie Laurens [Stephanie Laurens]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-02-22T10:30:04+00:00

Night had fallen. Wrapped in a silk negligee, another part of her trousseau, Sarah paced before the fire in the earl’s bedchamber and wondered where her earl was.

The velvet curtains were drawn against the dark; outside rain fell steadily while the wind rattled the bare branches of the nearby trees. Candles stood on the mantelpiece and on the small tables flanking the bed, their steady glow contributing to the cosy warmth that enveloped the chamber.

She’d had a busy, information-packed day. From the breakfast table on, every one of her minutes had gone in learning the myriad details of how to run Morwellan Park, and of the numerous other tasks that would fall to her now she was Charlie’s countess.

Not one of those details or tasks had been unexpected, yet she’d concentrated; if Serena and Augusta were shortly to leave and not be present to consult for several weeks, then she needed to ask all the relevant questions now rather than later be caught unawares.

Her absorption had distracted her from Charlie’s…distance. The distance he seemed intent on preserving between them, somewhat formal and stiff. His behavior in the breakfast room had been only the beginning; he’d been the same at the luncheon table, and his stance had been even more pronounced over dinner and during the short time he’d spent in the drawing room afterward, before he, Alec, George, and Jeremy had taken themselves off to play billiards.

Admittedly, throughout, she’d been surrounded by his mother and sisters, all talking more or less constantly, imparting facts and advice, all of which she’d needed to hear. Yet…

She grimaced. Perhaps his unexpected, rather formal reserve was simply a reaction to having his family there, watching his and her every move. Despite his outwardly easygoing nature, he was a private man, and his family were unquestionably the most aware of observers, the ones most able to read him and his reactions easily.

Perhaps he was simply uncertain how to publicly acknowledge the connection that was growing between them, or was, as yet, given its recent genesis, uneasy about doing so.

Indeed, she wasn’t yet sure herself how to relate to him when others were about; it was hardly any wonder if he felt the same. The same sense of feeling their way.

Halting before the fireplace, arms crossed beneath her breasts, she stared into the flames. Then the handsome clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour; she looked at it and frowned. Eleven o’clock. Where was he?

As if in answer, she heard a footstep on the anteroom’s tiles—a familiar stride. Lowering her arms, she lifted her head, swinging to face the door as it opened and Charlie entered.

He saw her, hesitated for an instant, then closed the door. And came toward her.

She studied his face, searched his eyes as he neared…and sensed a hesitation, an uncertainty, one that echoed in her heart.

She also saw, more clearly, more definitely, the falling of the curious barrier that had seemed to stand between them through the day. Saw intent return to his eyes, replacing his impassivity, saw desire rise and edge his features.

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