Innocent Courtesan to Adventurer's Bride by Louise Allen Page B

in a thick black snood. She looked even more like an occupant of a nunnery than before.
    She stood up when she saw him, her expression wary. As well it might be , he thought. What am I going to do with you? The option of simply leaving her here to run the house lost savour. His body stirred; it knew exactly what it wanted to do.
    â€˜Havers will see you first, Celina.’
    â€˜I am very sorry, my lord,’ she said as though he had not spoken.
    â€˜For what?’ He was in no mood to be conciliatory.
    â€˜For the fact that you cannot carry out your intentions, for the burden of my presence and for the diminution of your inheritance by the legacy to me.’
    That sounded like a prepared speech. ‘The money is in no way an issue, Celina. It was my uncle’s to do with as he pleased and your presence in the household is no burden. If I appear less than pleased with my uncle’s dispositions, it is because of the disruption to my plans.’ And the unaccustomed experience of having my own will thwarted, if truth be told , he added mentally.
    It was salutary, after years of doing what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted, to find himself constrained in this way just when he had resolved on a course of action. It was almost as though the old devil had second-guessed him and set out to throw a barrier in his path. Old Simon had been too cynical, and too unconventional, toworry about his own reputation and he would not have wanted Quinn thinking to avenge the slight on his good name.
    â€˜Thank you. It is generous of you to reassure me,’ she said, her voice colourless. ‘It will be uncomfortable for you here, if your neighbours will not call.’ She was flushed now, her eyes, as usual, cast down. ‘Trimble told me about the scandal. It is very shocking that a young man could be treated in such a way.’
    â€˜You believe me the innocent party, then?’ Quinn found himself irritated that her answer mattered.
    â€˜Of course.’ She sounded almost sure, he thought grimly. Not certain, though. How very wise of her. ‘Trimble would not lie about something like that.’ But she thinks I might? ‘It was very honourable of you not to reveal the true parentage of her child.’
    He shrugged. It had been romantic wrong-headedness and a wounded heart more than any loftier motive, he suspected, looking back now at his young self. ‘That must have been a source of pride to you,’ she added, laying one hand on his sleeve as though trying to offer comfort
    â€˜I was a romantic young idiot,’ Quinn said. The shuttered gaze lifted a fraction and he knew she was watching him sidelong from beneath her lids. ‘That did not last long. Do not delude yourself that I am some sort of saint, Celina. The high-flown moral stance persisted just as long as it took me to discover the delights of the flesh well away from English double standards.’
    Her pale hand was still on his forearm. He looked down at her bent head, the sweep of dark lashes against her cheek, the faint quiver of her fingers, the tender skin below her ear. The scent she wore, subtle and sophisticated andunexpected, teased his nostrils and his pulse kicked in recognition of her unconscious allure.
    Or was it unconscious? he wondered. She had the grooming, the elegance, the little mannerisms of a woman used to pleasing men for a living. And yet, there was the apprehension in her eyes when she did permit them to meet his fleetingly, her lack of sophistication with wine, her retreats into shy propriety. A mystery, and Quinn enjoyed a mystery. And one involving contact with a pretty woman was even more enticing. He had six months to tease the truth out of her. As he thought it, he realised that he was not going to just take himself off to London and abandon her here. He wanted her.
    He lifted her hand from his arm and raised it to his lips, just touching the tips of her fingers, letting his breath caress