A Flirtatious Rendezvous: The Gentlemen Next Door #4 - Historical Regency Romance Novellas by Cecilia Gray
Authors: Cecilia Gray
Tags: General Fiction
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nodded and smiled, but she and Lady Rivington exchanged concerned glances yet again. If she didn’t do something soon, they would continue to cast looks of pity her way.
“Viscount Montcreif was very agreeable,” she said finally.
“Yes, he seems so,” Lady Rivington agreed. “And there were a great many other gentlemen visiting with you today.”
“Yes,” Hanna agreed. She took another bite, tasting the saltiness of a stray tear that had run down her cheek before she could wipe it away. “But I don’t need a great many. I just need one.”
Chapter Five
Hayden took another sip of brandy, musing that he may well have found another course of scientific inquiry. Why did alcohol dull some memories while sharpening others? For instance, he found it hard to remember why he’d fought so hard against his mother and it was difficult to remember what he loved about his bachelor’s residence. Instead, all he could think about was a particular pair of plump lips and the soft, innocent flick of her tongue.
He crumpled up yet another piece of paper and threw it across his sitting room. He grabbed his glass of brandy and downed it in three quick swallows.
He should be thinking about the proof, not Hanna. But this proof was impossible.
What if it wasn’t true? What if the pairs ceased to exist? What if they stopped and infinity was nothing but number after number standing apart, all alone?
What if he had one more drink?
He stood to fill his glass and stumbled, catching himself on the back of his chair. The room spun and he closed his eyes. Yet another strange effect of alcohol. The room seemed rather larger, even though it was smaller than his study at the family home. Why was that?
All his things were here now. He’d dragged his work here piece by piece to be sure his mother had no way to blackmail him back for yet another salon of suitable bachelors.
Only, the countess had not come asking. Not the day after he’d left, not the day after that, not yesterday and not today, even though it was close to four.
Who was drunk at four in the afternoon?
No one with any sense.
Who was still fixated on the siren’s call of full lips and wide green eyes?
Not he, that was certain.
He groaned. His head pounded as he staggered over to pour another drink.
One drink, one glass.
One number after another to infinity.
He slumped to the floor and rested his forehead against his knees.
What had he done? Why had he kissed her?
It made no sense.
He’d been angry at her—that was it. Angry after listening to idiots treat Hanna like an idiot, and worse yet, at how she sat there and accepted it and didn’t bite back with the fight he knew she had in her.
Could he really live with himself if she ended up with one of them?
Still, he had kissed her. Kissed her.
Anger didn’t make a man kiss a woman, did it?
No, wanting her did. He’d wanted her. Beyond logic, beyond reason.
He let out a growl of anger. He didn’t want Hanna. He wanted to live in his bachelor’s rooms and perform mathematics and confine himself to his studies.
Yes, that was the life for him. He pictured it. Here, day in and day out.
An eternity. A life of one. An infinity alone.
An infinity of reason and logic and proof.
He glanced back at his desk—at the papers there. At one paper in particular, with a quote scrawled along its bottom from the day of ribbon shopping.
He was up on his feet and running—out the door, down the street. Running instead of taking his phaeton. Running instead of walking.
Running against all reason.
* * *
Hayden burst through his own front door, past their startled butler, with mumbled apologies. His mother came scurrying out of the sitting room and stopped him dead with a look of shock and censure.
“Are you drunk? ”
“Is that all you can think of at a time like this?” He pointed to the sitting room just behind her, where Hanna was no doubt holding court. “When this travesty is going
“Viscount Montcreif was very agreeable,” she said finally.
“Yes, he seems so,” Lady Rivington agreed. “And there were a great many other gentlemen visiting with you today.”
“Yes,” Hanna agreed. She took another bite, tasting the saltiness of a stray tear that had run down her cheek before she could wipe it away. “But I don’t need a great many. I just need one.”
Chapter Five
Hayden took another sip of brandy, musing that he may well have found another course of scientific inquiry. Why did alcohol dull some memories while sharpening others? For instance, he found it hard to remember why he’d fought so hard against his mother and it was difficult to remember what he loved about his bachelor’s residence. Instead, all he could think about was a particular pair of plump lips and the soft, innocent flick of her tongue.
He crumpled up yet another piece of paper and threw it across his sitting room. He grabbed his glass of brandy and downed it in three quick swallows.
He should be thinking about the proof, not Hanna. But this proof was impossible.
What if it wasn’t true? What if the pairs ceased to exist? What if they stopped and infinity was nothing but number after number standing apart, all alone?
What if he had one more drink?
He stood to fill his glass and stumbled, catching himself on the back of his chair. The room spun and he closed his eyes. Yet another strange effect of alcohol. The room seemed rather larger, even though it was smaller than his study at the family home. Why was that?
All his things were here now. He’d dragged his work here piece by piece to be sure his mother had no way to blackmail him back for yet another salon of suitable bachelors.
Only, the countess had not come asking. Not the day after he’d left, not the day after that, not yesterday and not today, even though it was close to four.
Who was drunk at four in the afternoon?
No one with any sense.
Who was still fixated on the siren’s call of full lips and wide green eyes?
Not he, that was certain.
He groaned. His head pounded as he staggered over to pour another drink.
One drink, one glass.
One number after another to infinity.
He slumped to the floor and rested his forehead against his knees.
What had he done? Why had he kissed her?
It made no sense.
He’d been angry at her—that was it. Angry after listening to idiots treat Hanna like an idiot, and worse yet, at how she sat there and accepted it and didn’t bite back with the fight he knew she had in her.
Could he really live with himself if she ended up with one of them?
Still, he had kissed her. Kissed her.
Anger didn’t make a man kiss a woman, did it?
No, wanting her did. He’d wanted her. Beyond logic, beyond reason.
He let out a growl of anger. He didn’t want Hanna. He wanted to live in his bachelor’s rooms and perform mathematics and confine himself to his studies.
Yes, that was the life for him. He pictured it. Here, day in and day out.
An eternity. A life of one. An infinity alone.
An infinity of reason and logic and proof.
He glanced back at his desk—at the papers there. At one paper in particular, with a quote scrawled along its bottom from the day of ribbon shopping.
He was up on his feet and running—out the door, down the street. Running instead of taking his phaeton. Running instead of walking.
Running against all reason.
* * *
Hayden burst through his own front door, past their startled butler, with mumbled apologies. His mother came scurrying out of the sitting room and stopped him dead with a look of shock and censure.
“Are you drunk? ”
“Is that all you can think of at a time like this?” He pointed to the sitting room just behind her, where Hanna was no doubt holding court. “When this travesty is going
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