A Lady's Lesson in Scandal by Meredith Duran

Author:Meredith Duran
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Man-Woman Relationships, Historical, Inheritance and Succession - England - London, Inheritance and Succession, Nobility - England, Fiction, Romance, False Personation, Historical Fiction, General, Nobility, Love Stories
ISBN: 9781451606935
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2011-06-27T23:00:00+00:00

Nell did not look impressed by the idea of a wager. Lifting a brow, she said, “Sure and we could bet on it. But I’d feel bad taking advantage of a duffer like you.”

Simon laughed. “Darling, you may take advantage of me whenever you like.”

Her lashes lowered, concealing her thoughts. “You remember you said that, St. Maur.”

“Simon,” he murmured. “If you mean to be bold, you might as well go the distance.”

“Simon,” she said. “You’re the striker.” Her head tipped toward the table.

“Growing impatient, are you? Or perhaps nervous,” he teased. “Very well. We agreed to play to a hundred strokes. Let’s add twenty to it. What are the terms?”

She set her cue to the ground with a thump, leaning into it as she looked him up and down. A smile began to play at the corners of her mouth. “What a world of possibilities,” she said. “All right: I’ll play for … the right to send one of my dresses to a friend.”

Her proposal served a neat blow to his growing intentions. He’d had in mind a wager far less noble. “Agreed,” he said. “But do add something to sweeten the deal.”

“That’s pretty sweet in itself,” she muttered. “But if you insist on being a victim—I’ll take a trip to a bookshop and the chance to spend twenty pounds from your pocket.”

Good God. “What a depressingly virtuous standard you set.”

Her smile sharpened into a taunt. “Oh, don’t mind me, Simon. Set any terms you like. You’re not going to win, so it makes no difference, you see.”

“Excellent,” he said briskly. “Then I’ll demand five minutes of your virtue.”

Her eyes narrowed. She pressed her cheek to her upright cue and scowled at him. “What does that mean?”

“Since I’m apparently bound to lose, it doesn’t matter, does it? I’ll decide what I mean during those five minutes.”

“Those five minutes you won’t have,” she retorted.

“That’s right.” With a grin, he turned his back on her, bracing his cue on the bridge of his hand to test his aim on the white-spot ball.

No challenge came in reply. It seemed she meant to accept the bargain. After a brief moment of amazement, he felt, all at once, very determined to win. He bent lower to the table. If he could hole the red by striking his ball off the white-spot—

“Sad to watch you,” came Nell’s idle voice from behind him. “I hope you won’t weep when you lose. This dress hasn’t the pockets for hankies.”

He didn’t look up. “My, such confidence. Didn’t Mrs. Hemple teach you of modesty? A very ladylike quality.” Perhaps the canon was overreaching. A losing hazard, to the middle pocket—

“I never was very good at modesty.”

His hand seized on the cue. She’d purred the words directly into his ear. He could feel the heat of her breath on his nape. It lifted the small hairs there.

Slowly he turned his head. She didn’t retreat an inch. A sly half smile curled her mouth. It shot through him like an electric current, arrowing straight to his groin.

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