The Vexatious Widow (Regency House Party: Havencrest Book 2) by Pennington Michelle

Author:Pennington, Michelle [Pennington, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-06-10T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

The morning after his disastrous decision to kiss Joanna—her given name now coming readily to his mind—he hid away in Mr. Garvey’s library to escape the annoyance of bored, restless house guests. His host seemed to be absent again, no doubt dancing attendance on the Prince Regent at the Royal Pavilion, but Tyndale was glad to have a quiet place to conduct his various business.

He was fooling himself, however. He’d been working on the same letter to his land manager for over thirty minutes but had made very little progress. Even as the monotonous rain pelted the windows and the fire crackled on the hearth, his mind continuously turned back to the moment the night before when he had held her close and indulged his fierce impulse to kiss her—to show her that little though she might suspect it, she had the power to stir a man to desire.

There had been no thought behind it, no time for logic or weighing of the consequences. But alone now with his thoughts, he wished he had not succumbed. No doubt she would keep her distance from him now, for which he would not blame her, and he would have an even more difficult time banishing her from his thoughts. Because she had felt soft and fragile beneath his fingers and her skin had smelled of honey and lavender, all femininity and sweetness. Feeling her lips beneath his had sent an urge through him to conquer and claim. It had taken all his strength and self-possession to step away and not demand more.

Which made absolutely no sense to him at all. They were little better than strangers.

So why did it not feel that way?

He had just managed to write another line with the worst pen in Christendom when a light knock on the door preceded the intrusion upon his solitude by Phoebe. She smiled at him as she came in, sure of her welcome and not at all abashed from their previous clash over her behavior. She wore a white muslin morning dress embroidered with pink rosebuds and looked as fresh and lovely as a summer morning. He eyed her with misgiving and set down his pen.

“What is it, Phoebe?”

“Good afternoon, Uncle.” She smiled at him, managing to look very innocent. It was rather impressive.

“Would you mind skipping over all the cozening speeches you’ve prepared and tell what you want?”

She laughed, apparently delighted. “I can see that you are still angry with me, but I came to admit you were right.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Did you now?”

“Yes. I have given it a lot of thought, and I daresay you are perfectly right about Mr. Seymour. And so, I have decided to give him up.”

“Have you? How biddable of you. And what was it that changed your mind?”

Amusement flashed in her eyes. “Perhaps it is the presence of so many charming gentlemen.”

Tyndale leaned back in his chair. “I see. Because there was such a shortage of them in London when you first settled on Seymour in the first place.

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