A Little Bit Sinful by Adrienne Basso

wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him, to squeeze those broad, muscular shoulders as his lips brushed hers.
    “Lady Eleanor?”
    Blinking in embarrassment, Eleanor inhaled a shaky breath. What was wrong with her? The viscount clearly had no interest in her. Besides, such improper, risqué thoughts about a virtual stranger were ridiculous—and very much out of her character. “I beg your pardon, Lady Agatha. I did not hear your question.”
    Though Eleanor could have sworn it had been a female voice that was talking, it was the viscount who spoke.
    “Lady Agatha and I were wondering why we have not seen either of you in Town.”
    “Bianca and I usually reside at our home in the country,” she answered. “We have only recently arrived.”
    “How fortunate. Your presence adds the beauty we were missing and will serve to elevate the Season to a spectacular level,” he said grandly.
    Eleanor nearly rolled her eyes at the flowery sentiment. “London hardly lacks for beautiful women, my lord.”
    “Pretty, perhaps. Yet none quite as lovely as the two of you.” He spoke the words to her, since she had answered him, but it was plain to all that he meant them for Bianca. “I believe there are many gentlemen who will take umbrage with the earl for delaying your arrival in Town.”
    “I have a suspicion that the earl is the type of man who keeps his most precious things hidden away, out of sight,” Lady Agatha interjected with a superior smirk.
    Bianca lowered her head modestly. Eleanor smiled dimly, relieved that a female’s vapid smile was usually taken as a sign of agreement. Precious things! How preposterous. Why, if they knew the truth about the earl’s treatment of his daughters they would be appalled.
    So tell them.
A devilish urge of honesty was something that plagued Eleanor at the most inconvenient times. As much as she would have liked to dispel this myth about their father, it would hurt and embarrass her sister. Not to mention enlightening any of these people as to her father’s true character would be social suicide.
    “Now that we have been properly introduced, I shall shamelessly beg for the honor of a dance,” Lord Benton said. “Lady Bianca?”
    Bianca looked down at the viscount’s extended hand, then over at Eleanor. Heart fluttering with worry, Eleanor eyed the viscount suspiciously. The faint lines at the corners of his eyes told her he was too old for her gentle sister, the arrogance in his sensual smile bespoke of a sophistication way beyond Bianca’s comprehension.
    But Bianca’s eyes were pleading with her to agree. She had promised herself she would be vigilant, yet not unreasonable with the men who paid court to her sister. So Eleanor nodded her head in permission.
    Bianca’s face broke into a smile. “I shall be delighted to dance with you, my lord.”
    In silence, Eleanor and Lady Agatha watched the pair walk away. “What can you tell me about the viscount?” Eleanor asked the moment the couple took their place in line for the quadrille.
    The older woman nodded in understanding. “A handsome devil, is he not? And more than charming, especially when the mood suits him.”
    “Unmarried?”
    “Of course. I would not have made the introduction if he were a married man.” Lady Agatha lifted her chin and let out an offended sniff. “He has an old and distinguished title. The Dodds were royalists who fought beside King Charles and were rewarded handsomely for their loyalty when the throne was reclaimed. On his mother’s side he can trace his ancestry back to the Conqueror, though there is rumored to be some Welsh blood mixed in several generations ago.”
    Lady Agatha’s tone implied that was not a desirable connection, but Eleanor dismissed it as insignificant. “I do not want a list of his pedigree, Lady Agatha. What of his character? Is he a good man?”
    “Good? Why, he is good at many things. An excellent rider, a keen shot, a fashionable dresser, as you can