This Wicked Gift by Courtney Milan

Author:Courtney Milan [Milan, Courtney]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical romance, Fiction
ISBN: 9781426840616
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2009-09-30T21:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOUR

LAVINIA’S BROTHER, William thought wryly, was a thin spike of a boy. Attach a sufficient quantity of straw to his head, and he’d have made a passable broom. In polite society, he might have served as a chaperone, a place-holder designed to do little more than observe. But James Spencer, this pale wraith of a child, apparently believed he could protect his sister from someone who threatened her virtue. He had been alarmingly misled. Standing outside Spencer’s on the freezing pavement, James folded his arms—a posture that only emphasized the sharp skin-and-bone of his shoulders.

There was a saying, William supposed, about guarding the cows after the wolves had already come a-ravening. The adage seemed rather inappropriate as cows could only be eaten once. He’d promised himself he’d not importune her again, but one touch of her hand and he’d been ready to go a-ravening all over again.

James tapped his toe, frowning. “Did you kiss her?”

Oh, the barren and virtuous imagination of callow youth.

“Yes,” William said. It was easier than resorting to explanation.

James peered dubiously at William, as if trying to ascertain whether there truly was a patch on his coat. “And what are your prospects?”

“Too dismal to take a wife. Even if I chose to do so, which—at present—I do not.”

Lavinia’s brother gasped. If the boy thought kissing a woman without wanting to marry her constituted open devilry, God forbid he ever learn what had really transpired.

“If you’re not going to marry her,” he said, shocked, “then why’d you kiss her?”

William had long suspected it, but now he was certain. Lavinia’s younger brother was an idiot.

“Mr. Spencer.” William spoke slowly, searching for small words that were nonetheless sharp enough to penetrate her brother’s dim cogitation. “Kissing is a pleasant activity. It is considerably more pleasant when the woman one is kissing is more than passably pretty. Your sister happens to be the loveliest lady in all of London. Why do you suppose I kissed her?”

“My sister?”

“You needn’t pull such a face. It’s not something to admit in polite company, but we’re both men here.” At least, James would be one day. “You know it’s the truth.”

“No,” James said incredulously, screwing up his eyes. “You want to kiss my sister? I never thought—”

“Well, you’d better start thinking about it, you little fool. Everyone wants to kiss your sister. And what are you doing to protect her? Nothing.”

“I’m protecting her now!”

“You leave her in that shop with nobody to call for if she needs help except your father, who is too ill to respond. You send her out to capture your vowels from known ruffians who live near docks where sailors cavort. Don’t tell me you protect your sister. How many times have I found her alone in the library? Do you have any idea what I could have done to her?”

He was angry, William realized. Furious that he’d been allowed to take from her the most precious thing she could give, and angrier still that nobody—least of all Lavinia—was willing to castigate him for it.

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