Kissed by Starlight by Cynthia Bailey Pratt

clasped her to his chest. More from instinct than from experience, Felicia put her head down, evading the kiss he sought to steal. She felt his wet mouth on her cheek and neck.
    “Sir Elswith—stop!”
    She brought her foot down hard on his boot. Though her slipper could not have made much impression on him, he did stop, and stepped back. “Damn, you’ve scratched the leather, you witch!”
    He peered down at the glossy black boot. “No you haven’t. Good God, girl, they were new but a month ago! You might have damaged it beyond repair.”
    Catching her breath, Felicia found sarcasm. “My relief is enormous. Now if you’ll be so kind as to tell me exactly what it is you think you are doing, mauling me about in this way?”
    “Come now. Don’t play off these airs; they’ll get you no forwarder with me.”
    He advanced; Felicia instinctively retreated. Pushing his rumpled hair off his face, Sir Elswith said in a wheedling tone, “I don’t mind these games, but let us play them after we’ve settled the matter. I prefer a business footing to my affairs.”
    “Affairs?”
    He glanced in the direction of the house. “You can’t stay here with that woman, and the thought of you going off to herd a flock of orphans is absurd. Why ...” He laughed. “Why, a lively beauty like you’d be bored in a week! You come with me; I’ll show you Paris, eh? Buy you the clothes to show you off, maybe a few trinkets if you deserve ‘em. I’m not a rich man, by any means, but I know how to reward a lady for her good nature. I’d be a good first step for you, introduce you around. Why, I’d not be a hair surprised if you leave me to go off with a duke; damn me if I don’t think so.”
    Felicia narrowed her eyes, confused. One instant it sounded as though he were offering her a season in Paris, the next as though he were making a most improper suggestion. “Sir Elswith, may I ask one favor?”
    “Knew you’d see it my way ... Least I can do for the daughter of an old friend ...” When he stepped toward her, his arms going out, she jumped back, holding up her hands.
    “Wait! I’m very confused. You’ve never shown any signs of being ... being in love with me....” She knew no other words to describe his behavior, though this was like no wooing she’d ever imagined.
    “But I am, my girl. Passionately...” His pointed tongue flicked over his thick lips.
    Perhaps she was having delusions again. Compared with this, though, statues coming to life were delightful. At least, Blaic’s eyes had been cool.
    “But first the gardener and now you ...”
    “Gardener? What gardener?”
    “One of the men who work on the estate made me a similar offer not half an hour ago. Less lavish, perhaps.”
    Sir Elswith’s face darkened. “You tell me which one and I’ll thrash him! Lusting after his betters! A thrashing’s too good for the scoundrel!”
    Felicia decided not to make the attempt to understand why the same offer from two men should differ merely because of their class. She felt just as unclean after either encounter. But perhaps Sir Elswith could explain why the encounters had taken place—that is, if she could keep him from trying again.
    “I don’t care to tell you his name,” she said after he repeated a demand for it. “But pray tell me why you are suddenly so eager to solicit my—my favors.”
    Sir Elswith looked a little embarrassed. “It’s not because I didn’t think you were a cuddlesome armful before. Don’t want you to think that! No sooner had you grown up than I knew if I could only get you for myself... but your father had a damned, dirty look in his eye whenever I could have made a chance for myself.”
    “And now that he’s dead ...”
    “Just so. There’s no doubt you’re in need of a protector. But you’ve got to give to get, don’t you know? Why don’t you give me a bit now, eh?’’
    Once again, she held up her hand to stop him, though she had to skip nimbly backward to avoid his