After an evening of being treated to every artful wile Miss Pindar possessed, Riley's guileless touch
startled him with its innocence.
Yet at the same time, her touch ignited his imagination, already smoldering at the idea of red satin. Of what it would be like to gather her into his arms...his fingers pushing aside her skirt, while his hand moved upward until he touched that fiery satin, warm from her skin and beguiling to the senses...
"I suppose now I must apologize," she said.
"Whatever for?" he asked, wondering if it was he who should be apologizing, and profusely, for his wayward delirium.
Maybe staying hadn't been the best idea.
"For my behavior earlier, when you told me you had fired my Runner. I was ungrateful and acted most
unbecomingly."
"You are never unbecoming," he told her, wishing for once the woman could look dowdy and plain, like the young misses who had flocked to his side this evening.
And not as if she'd just tumbled out of bed.
"I think you look quite tolerable," he joked.
She snorted at his compliment. "I can see you are working on your charm. And here I thought I would
have to give you lessons. Did this hidden talent serve you well this evening? Are you betrothed?" she teased back.
Mason shuddered. "I think not."
She glanced away, and he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Finally she asked, "Was Miss Pindar there?"
"I don't recall," he lied. For some reason he didn't like discussing his suit for Miss Pindar's hand with
Riley.
She smiled. "Your cousin has high hopes you will find favor with the young lady. According to Cousin Felicity, Miss Pindar is quite plump in the pockets."
"Yes, she is that," Mason said. What he didn't add was that he found the lady cloying and pretentious,and as Bea had said, a ninny-hammer.Riley continued sorting through her papers. "Was she in the carriage that picked you up?"Mason glanced over at her. Riley had watched him leave?"No, that was Lord Chilton's daughter."She wrinkled her nose. "Lord Chilton? I keep hearing his name-who is he?""Cousin Felicity's beau."Riley's mouth fell open. "Cousin Felicity has a beau?""Yes," he said. "She and Lord Chilton have been seeing each other for nearly twenty years."
"Twenty years? Oh, you jest," she said, waving her hand at him again, but this time not touching him.Mason shook his head. "On the subject of Cousin Felicity's marital prospects, I never jest. Freddieteased her quite mercilessly about the situation. Offering monthly to call Chilton out if the old boy didn'tmarry her posthaste. Ask her about him and she has a thousand excuses for why they are still as yetunattached." He paused. "The truth is, I think she finds the entire arrangement embarrassing."
"Then why hasn't he married her?"Mason shrugged. "He's a Chilton. They are terrible about making up their minds. The story is that it took him twenty years to propose to his first wife, so the joke is that Cousin Felicity can't be that much further away from getting her trip to the parson."
"The poor dear," Riley said. "How humiliating. There must be some way to get Lord Chilton to
propose.""If you can do that, you'd more than repay your debt to the family. I think Lord Chilton holds off so hedoesn't have to pay her modiste bill."
Now Riley laughed. "She does love her clothes."
"Yes, she does," he agreed. "And I have the bills to prove it."
They both laughed at this.
"I see you've changed some other habits as well," she said, nodding at his evening clothes. "You've lost
some of your predictable severity."
He didn't know if he liked being described as predictable. "One of Freddie's that I had reworked," he
said, plucking at the sleeve. "My brother left closets of suits that had never been worn. I saw no point in having new ones made. Much to the horror of his tailor, I had these recut to fit me."
"We do that in the theatre all the time. I think I've worn this gown in nine different productions. The poor
fabric is getting terribly thin just from all the sewing." Riley shrugged. "I know it isn't fashionable, but I have a terrible time throwing anything out. That, and we never seem to have enough money to buy new costumes."
Mason laughed. "Then we can be quite unfashionable together." He reached over and picked up one of her papers. "What is this?"
She reached over to take it out of his hands, and when she did, their fingers touched ever so briefly.
But it was enough. Enough to drive him to venture a gaze into her eyes and wish that so many things in his life were different.
That he could follow his passions like his ancestors had so many times-for now he understood why they
could let their desires get in the way of good sense.
For a moment, he swore he saw the same fire of recognition in her eyes-until she tugged the paper away from him and snapped, "Nothing of any importance, my lord."
"Mason," he corrected, in the face of her sudden vehemence. He couldn't remember the last time anyonehad snapped at him like that. Few people ever spoke their mind to him anymore, and certainly not sincehe'd gained his title. "I would like it if you called me Mason."
She glanced up. "What?""I think if you are going to bark at me like that, you might as well use my Christian name," he said."I'm sorry if I got a bit high-handed," she said. "Aggie says I have an artistic temperament.""That would be a polite way of describing it," Mason told her."I would hardly call it a temper.""No, you're right there," he agreed. "Temper would hardly begin to describe it."She glanced over at him. "Oh, you are teasing me, my lord." She buried the paper into the pile with the rest of her collection of scraps and scribblings.
"Mason," he repeated.
"Huh?"
"Call me Mason."
She shook her head. "I don't think I can."
He sat up straight. "Whyever not?"
"Well, look at you," she said, waving her hand at him as if that was answer enough.
"And what is wrong with me?"
"Nothing," she said.
For some strange reason, he sensed her answer went beyond this discussion. And even more odd, that
idea pleased him.She sighed. "You're an earl. It would hardly be proper for me to call you by your Christian name.""But we're related now," he said."Only in Cousin Felicity's estimation," she said. "And that is hardly a recommendation.""What if it is my wish," he said."Your wish or your command?" she asked.He was glad to see the twinkle back in her eyes. "If I must, I command it. But I would rather that you gave it freely."
"Now you sound like Geoffroi, the hero in our play," she said. She arose from the floor. Taking a step
back, she made a low curtsey, worthy of a presentation at court. "If my lord commands it, then I, just the mere daughter of a woodcutter must humbly comply."
He nodded in acceptance of her tribute. "Are you?" he asked.
"Am I what?"
"The daughter of a woodcutter."
She laughed, but there didn't seem to be much humor in her voice this time. "No. It is just my role in our
play. When you said that about commands, it just reminded me of the play, and then I answered from the
third act." She shrugged. "Rather silly, I suppose."
He shook his head. "Not at all."
Their gazes locked, and Mason felt once again the pull that left him aching to be closer to her.
She looked away first. "I also wanted to thank you."
"What for?" he said.
"For saving my life. I would have died if you hadn't come along." She bit her lip, a shy, sweet gesture. He rose from the floor. "How would the heroine in your play have thanked her hero?" he asked, once again surprised by the light teasing tone in his voice. He was sounding more and more like Freddie with each passing minute.
Her eyes sparkled. "The heroine would be overwrought, beside herself with love and appreciation."
"And what would she say?"
"She wouldn't say anything," Riley told him, edging a bit closer to him. "She'd just go to him. And then
she'd-"
He looked down at her, standing almost within his grasp. He knew he shouldn't, but there was a magic inthe air leading him astray, a siren's call. "And she'd-?"Riley blushed. "She'd kiss him."Once again that impetuous Ashlin nature took over. All of a sudden he found himself catching her in his arms and pulling her close. She didn't fight him or protest, just looked up at him with those mysterious
green eyes of hers-so innocent and so filled with fire.He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, reawakening the fire that had started the first time he'ddone this.