one of the conspirators.
"No, no, I'll use the point of my sword to cut out
the affected part—Dr. Foote? Dr. Foote?"
Lindsay felt a pang for the poor man as he fled from
his company, a pudgy hand pressed to his cheek, his pitiful complaints drowned
out as revelers all around burst into another bawdy song.
"I'm sorry. I pointed them out to you only because
I thought you would be amused."
Lindsay turned to find Jared studying her, and she
quickly smiled, although she didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about Tom's
Cellar as she had a few moments ago. "It was amusing, in a way . . ."
She fell silent, a flicker of something in Jared's eyes
making her stop.
Oh, dear, she didn't want him to think she was having a
dreadful time, and she wasn't, truly. Her outing thus far had been so much more
interesting than another insufferable ball, and, of course, she wouldn't rather
be anywhere else than with him.
"Actually, I found their prank very clever,
although I'm sure that unlucky doctor doesn't think so." A delicious
thought struck her, making her grin. "I could see using such a ruse on my
stepmother, but with a bit of a twist—perhaps someone claiming to be her
bastard son or daughter. Now, that would straighten her sausage curls."
Jared found himself chuckling, mesmerized by the
mischievous glint in Lindsay's eyes. Yet in the next instant he felt his
exasperation return, for nothing seemed to be upsetting her.
He had thought that he'd seen some measure of distress
on her face a moment ago, which had made him hopeful that she might wish to
return home, having stomached enough of Tom's Cellar. But now she couldn't
appear more merry , as if being in such a raucous place
was as common as teatime in the afternoon. Obviously a more drastic course of
action was needed; dammit , the chit was having too
much fun. He lifted his mug and drained it, which gave him a sudden idea.
"Drink up and I'll order us another."
Chapter 6
"Drink up?" Lindsay glanced at her mug, still
brimming with dark amber ale, as she had taken only a few sips.
"You said you liked it, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes, it's quite good," she fibbed, not
wanting to offend. Lifting her mug, she took a healthy swallow just to prove
how much she enjoyed it and, surprisingly enough, found she had grown slightly
more accustomed to the tangy, somewhat bitter taste. She took another deep
swallow, a pleasant warmth working all the way down to her toes even before she
had set the half-empty mug upon the table.
Either that or it was the disconcerting sensation of Jared
sitting so close to her, Lindsay thought, his hard thigh still pressed against
her leg. Yet he stood in the next instant to beckon a serving woman and the
warmth remained, making her reach for the embroidered silk frogs of her cloak.
It was growing quite stuffy down here, so many people, the smelly tobacco
smoke, the noise, her cheeks feeling as flushed as the rest of her.
Lindsay started as strong fingers covered hers, gently
pulling her hands from the frog at her throat. She met Jared's eyes, not aware
until now that he had sat back down beside her.
"I'm sorry, Lindsay, you'll have to keep your
cloak on, remember? We can't risk anyone recognizing—"
"Oh, please, it's grown so warm. I just want to
loosen it a bit, not take it off."
She smiled with sheer gratitude as he nodded, but once
more he caught her hands when she started to lift them.
"Let me."
The rich baritone of his voice catching her breath,
Lindsay could only stare at him. She tilted her chin a notch as his hands moved
to the fastening at her throat; when his fingers grazed her flesh, she began to
tremble.
He undid the first frog and slid his hand along the
inside of her cloak to the next, his fingers skimming the curve of her breast
and making her wonder if he could feel how wildly her heart was beating. By the
third she was more than ready for the fresh mug of ale plunked down in front of
her, anything to cool the searing flame
"No, no, I'll use the point of my sword to cut out
the affected part—Dr. Foote? Dr. Foote?"
Lindsay felt a pang for the poor man as he fled from
his company, a pudgy hand pressed to his cheek, his pitiful complaints drowned
out as revelers all around burst into another bawdy song.
"I'm sorry. I pointed them out to you only because
I thought you would be amused."
Lindsay turned to find Jared studying her, and she
quickly smiled, although she didn't feel quite as enthusiastic about Tom's
Cellar as she had a few moments ago. "It was amusing, in a way . . ."
She fell silent, a flicker of something in Jared's eyes
making her stop.
Oh, dear, she didn't want him to think she was having a
dreadful time, and she wasn't, truly. Her outing thus far had been so much more
interesting than another insufferable ball, and, of course, she wouldn't rather
be anywhere else than with him.
"Actually, I found their prank very clever,
although I'm sure that unlucky doctor doesn't think so." A delicious
thought struck her, making her grin. "I could see using such a ruse on my
stepmother, but with a bit of a twist—perhaps someone claiming to be her
bastard son or daughter. Now, that would straighten her sausage curls."
Jared found himself chuckling, mesmerized by the
mischievous glint in Lindsay's eyes. Yet in the next instant he felt his
exasperation return, for nothing seemed to be upsetting her.
He had thought that he'd seen some measure of distress
on her face a moment ago, which had made him hopeful that she might wish to
return home, having stomached enough of Tom's Cellar. But now she couldn't
appear more merry , as if being in such a raucous place
was as common as teatime in the afternoon. Obviously a more drastic course of
action was needed; dammit , the chit was having too
much fun. He lifted his mug and drained it, which gave him a sudden idea.
"Drink up and I'll order us another."
Chapter 6
"Drink up?" Lindsay glanced at her mug, still
brimming with dark amber ale, as she had taken only a few sips.
"You said you liked it, didn't you?"
"Oh, yes, it's quite good," she fibbed, not
wanting to offend. Lifting her mug, she took a healthy swallow just to prove
how much she enjoyed it and, surprisingly enough, found she had grown slightly
more accustomed to the tangy, somewhat bitter taste. She took another deep
swallow, a pleasant warmth working all the way down to her toes even before she
had set the half-empty mug upon the table.
Either that or it was the disconcerting sensation of Jared
sitting so close to her, Lindsay thought, his hard thigh still pressed against
her leg. Yet he stood in the next instant to beckon a serving woman and the
warmth remained, making her reach for the embroidered silk frogs of her cloak.
It was growing quite stuffy down here, so many people, the smelly tobacco
smoke, the noise, her cheeks feeling as flushed as the rest of her.
Lindsay started as strong fingers covered hers, gently
pulling her hands from the frog at her throat. She met Jared's eyes, not aware
until now that he had sat back down beside her.
"I'm sorry, Lindsay, you'll have to keep your
cloak on, remember? We can't risk anyone recognizing—"
"Oh, please, it's grown so warm. I just want to
loosen it a bit, not take it off."
She smiled with sheer gratitude as he nodded, but once
more he caught her hands when she started to lift them.
"Let me."
The rich baritone of his voice catching her breath,
Lindsay could only stare at him. She tilted her chin a notch as his hands moved
to the fastening at her throat; when his fingers grazed her flesh, she began to
tremble.
He undid the first frog and slid his hand along the
inside of her cloak to the next, his fingers skimming the curve of her breast
and making her wonder if he could feel how wildly her heart was beating. By the
third she was more than ready for the fresh mug of ale plunked down in front of
her, anything to cool the searing flame
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