One Whisper Away by Emma Wildes Page B

the target of everyone’s gaze made his every move even more conspicuous. Their brief conversation had been duly noted, and she’d been the recipient of curious stares for the rest of the evening, probably because of her telling blush.
    “He obviously is still learning his way around London society.”
    “He’s interested in you.”
    Eleanor had a unique way of stating her thoughts. Not that Cecily wasn’t capable of speaking her mind also, but not with such forthright determination. She had opinions. Unlike her sister, she just exercised the option of keeping them to herself now and then.
    “No doubt speculating on any interest he might or might not have is a waste of time. I am more debating just what he can do to make this all die down. I never answered his question. Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind at all if people stopped whispering about it.”
    “I think the odds of society not noticing what Augustine does are fairly low.”
    That was true enough. His arrival in London had sparked an interest that splattered the scandal sheets almost on a daily basis, and somehow, through that chance encounter, she’d become embroiled in his mystique.
    “Speaking of whispers, it appeared to me he whispered something else to you just before he left to go sit with his sisters. What was it?” Eleanor didn’t dissemble. Ever.
    However, Cecily hedged. “Do you feel obligated to repeat all your private conversations?”
    Her sister tossed her long braid over her shoulder and gave her a very assessing look. “It was something very scandalous again, wasn’t it? Even before he repeated his previous offense you had turned a very becoming shade of pink just from his arrival. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am the only one who noticed either. I sense the betting books at White’s filling up again even as we speak. What did he say?”
    . . . while I admire that particular shade of rose on you, I am certain you would look even better unadorned . . .
    Had Cecily not had some very shocking thoughts of her own, she might be more outraged.
    Good heavens, they had imagined each other naked. No wonder she had blushed. And it was not fair either, for while she only had a vague idea of what he might look like, he no doubt had done a much better job of picturing her without a stitch on.
    At least she hadn’t admitted it out loud.
    “This evening he told me he liked the color of my gown,” Cecily said, a half-truth at best. “But then intimated he might like me more without it.”
    Her sister’s eyes widened slightly in shock, and she took a moment before she said, “Good heavens, Ci. What are you going to do about the deliciously handsome but not so predictable Lord Augustine? You cannot let him continue such behavior.”
    Cecily shrugged. “What is there to do? Two extremely brief conversations do not merit much contemplation. He’s done nothing wrong and neither have I. Besides, I cannot keep him from doing as he pleases.”
    “Maybe not.” Eleanor glanced down at her clasped hands, the movement brief but telling before her chin came up. “At least Lord Drury was not there this evening. I have a feeling he would have been most horribly jealous.”
    Precisely the subject Cecily didn’t want to arise. Had Eleanor been a different kind of person, she might have been able to just ask her about her infatuation with the viscount, but her sister was guarded about her emotions, if not her opinions, and Cecily knew better than to intrude. It was touchy, also, because his lordship was openly courting her instead of her sister, never mind that she didn’t reciprocate his interest. She wasn’t even sure why she had no romantic inclinations for Lord Drury, for he was charming, well mannered, and quite witty—all good reasons for Eleanor to be so taken with him.
    “I hardly think his lordship would notice my extremely brief and public conversation with Augustine.”
    “You are wrong. He’s quite in love with you. One can hardly blame