Lady No Says Yes by Jess Michaels

Author:Jess Michaels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Passionate Pen
Published: 2019-05-07T07:00:00+00:00

Rowan lifted to the balls of his feet and scanned the ballroom a third time. Still, he found no trace of Sophie. Just as he hadn’t when he looked for her in the garden. Just as he hadn’t when he sought her out in the numerous parlors. She had disappeared.

And all he could think about was her crumpled expression when she whispered that she didn’t want to lose herself. He’d always seen her as so strong. So independent of spirit and mind. From the outside she looked untouchable, unbreakable, but now he’d seen a glimpse into the truth of her.

She was afraid. Afraid of the passion he’d awakened in her. Afraid of the idea of giving herself over to the care of another person, even for a moment. That was why she said no. No was a cloak she wore, a shield she carried. Beneath was the soft and vulnerable heart of a woman.

And he was a bastard for having ulterior motives when it came to her.

“You look sour.”

He turned to find Percy coming toward him, a drink held out in offering. He took it but didn’t partake. “Do I?” he mused softly.

“I assume your desperate search to determine what has driven Lady No to become Lady Yes has come up short, despite your best efforts?” Percy teased.

Rowan turned his face. “Her reasons are her own,” he said softly. “It’s wrong to pry.”

Percy leaned back, eyebrows lifting. “When just a short time ago you were determined to be the hero of the Season?”

“I was not,” Rowan said, frustration rising in his chest. “I was curious, as I’m sure many are. The feeling has passed.”

“But you have been dancing with the lady. Spending time with her. You haven’t turned that to your advantage?”

Rowan flinched. Turned it to his advantage? That was exactly what he’d been trying to do from the moment he discovered Sophie’s secret. Turn it to his advantage.

“Unless your motive for spending time with the young woman are something less probative,” Percy continued. “Her purse is—”

“Stop,” Rowan said through clenched teeth.

Percy’s brow furrowed. “What? I’m just—”

Rowan caught his lapels and shook him. “Stop. Now.”

Percy backed away, his eyes wide as he pulled from Rowan’s grip. “There now, Sinclair, there’s no need for that. Jesus.”

Rowan stared at his friend. A man he knew to be good and decent and filled with nothing but good humor. Yet a few ill-placed words and Rowan had been willing to come to blows with him.

Over Lady Sophie.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Percy held his gaze for a beat, then motioned toward the door. “Come. We need a far stronger drink than the weak swill this lot calls sherry.”

Rowan nodded silently, and followed his friend from the room and down the hallway to an open parlor. They entered, and Rowan sat as Percy poured them each a glass of scotch. Rowan downed his in one swig before Percy could even take his seat.

“What’s wrong?”

“They cut me off,” he admitted.

Percy’s eyebrows lifted. “Your brothers?”

“Completely. I depend on the allowance, I’ve never done much to save it.

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