Undone By His Kiss. Anabelle Bryant

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      Then in a twirl of her skirts she followed the others up the stairwell and out of sight.

      “What the hell happened?” He said the words aloud, but it was more to gain clarity than in expectation of an answer. Randolph’s prompt reply issued him another jolt.

      “You’ve just experienced the verbal equivalent of having your cork drawn. If she were a he your nose would be bleeding.” A guffaw followed this observation and then Randolph sobered, the obvious taking hold.

      “I’ve made a muck of things.” Jasper raised his eyes to the upstairs office. “I’d imagine the ladies are enjoying a good laugh at my expense.” His lament was overrun by the traffic of the noisy street. Little by little, London returned although he believed he’d never be the same again.

      “Need I remind you to focus, my friend.” Randolph leaned a bit closer as if imparting a precious secret. “If we’re to make a go of this business venture, you’ll need to come up to scratch.”

      Upstairs, the mood couldn’t be more convivial. Emily showed the ladies the two-room space before they moved to stand near the front window, watching the pedestrian flow and making plans for curtains and furnishings. Suggestions flourished, tinged with anticipation and excitement. It seemed too good to be true, their little league gaining legitimacy and attention with this leased location. Yet it didn’t take long before conversation took a decided turn.

      “He’s terribly handsome. Mr. St. David, I mean. Don’t you agree?” Cynthia cooed the question, willing anyone to answer. She peered out the front window and angled her view downward as if she could see inside the office below. “You spoke to him directly, Emily. What color are his eyes?”

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was too busy organizing my thoughts to note such triviality.” Green. His eyes were a lovely shade of green with little flecks of gold around the edges. Remembering the hue and sparkle caused an unexpected flutter in her belly.

      “I noticed,” Margery piped up. “I stood behind him at first. His height and broad shoulders were impossible to ignore as they obscured my view entirely. But when I drew nearer, I noticed his eyes, his hair, were the warmest shade. It was difficult to follow the discussion after that.”

      “Ladies,” Emily admonished although she’d observed the same. His hair was thick and wavy and in want of a good comb through for no other reason than the desire to feel the silky strands slip between her fingers. As they’d argued, an unruly lock had fallen across his brow. It lay against his skin above his right eye the entire time they’d spoken and the desire to reach up and tuck it back into place had made her fingers itchy inside her gloves. And those impossibly long lashes. She doubted the ladies saw the glimpse of a dimple in his right cheek. The memory caused her heart to beat a little faster. A handsome devil…but no, none of those observations mattered. Noticing these little qualities led to interest, and interest led to a large assortment of disasters all of which ensured her doom. Whatsoever was she thinking? She’d need to heed her own advice and avoid the entrapment of a gentleman’s charms.

      “Mr. St. David may think he can tell us where to stand and what to do, but like most male assumptions concerning women, he’s wrong. His berating is exactly why I formed the League of Virtuous Equality. Would he have approached a group of men with the same attitude?” She didn’t pause long enough for an answer even though Prudence raised her hand to speak. “Absolutely not. He assumed we were a bunch of twittering chatterboxes who clogged up the sidewalk and waned with befuddlement because we couldn’t find our way to the tea shop. Take note and learn a lesson today—” Everyone’s head nodded, although Cynthia had a faraway look about her. “No matter how handsome, how clever or charming, men have held the upper hand in society far too long. Do not be fooled. Our efforts extend far beyond coquetry. Women are not meant to be bullied or coerced, but rather cherished and respected. That type of conduct will not be tolerated. It is our mission to spread the message and promote equality for all.”

      A decided silence fell over their group and Emily wondered if her friends were too taken with the gentleman downstairs and his rugged appeal to consider her intent. Would women always abandon good sense when faced with a handsome male? Why should there be compromise? Couldn’t men and women share the world and experience all it had to offer without a winner and a loser? A broken heart? A spoiled mind?

      Tears pricked her eyes and she swiped them away, afraid someone would notice her change of mood. Instead she busied herself near the sink, freshening the fiddleheads in the vase and rejoining the conversation, now turned to furniture and carpeting, while she’d reclaimed her emotions.

Chapter 4

      Later that evening, Jasper returned to the darkened office, lit two lanterns, started the fire in the hearth and settled behind his desk, still perplexed by the day’s earlier events. Randolph had offered little enlightenment as the afternoon progressed and Jasper found himself restless and frustrated, unable to concentrate on preparing information for Penwick’s appointment in the morning.

      Now, alone with his thoughts, he reviewed his irrational reaction and the intriguing Miss Shaw.

      She was a beauty, no doubt. All fluster, indignation and tempting female. Her nose tipped up at the end and the fitting observation caused him to smile. Miss Shaw struck him as a female who turned her nose up on a great many things.

      He was an easygoing sort. Why he’d become obsessed with a stranger who appeared as relaxed as a wasp’s nest proved baffling. He had more important subjects to consider and the distraction of a lovely female was the last thing he desired, never mind he’d had trouble chasing her memory from his thoughts all day. Still, she fascinated him for some illogical reason. He’d watched her mouth form every word, captivated by her lips, perfectly heart-shaped, plump and kissable, and instead of comprehending her message, he wondered of the taste of her kiss, the feel of tongue.

      Terribly done of him, really. Miss Shaw appeared less than interested. Her back had been rigid, her shoulders squared, yet she really was all soft skin and feminine curves.

      He cleared his throat and opened the top desk drawer intent on memorizing the steam hammer proposal so to advise Penwick of the worthwhile investment opportunity. The earl would have a multitude of questions. Jasper vowed to know all the answers.

      Yet no matter he reviewed a series of folders and read numerous paragraphs, concentration was scarce, his mind all too anxious to return to Miss Shaw and her stunning blue eyes. Something about her immediate pique intrigued him more than any new-fangled invention. Her pretty little hat was set at a jaunty angle that dared him to remove it, to see how long her hair fell, to wrap the strands around his palm.

      He smiled at the memory of how he’d charged into the discussion on the walkway without aplomb, overstepping and overreacting, only amending his behavior after the damage was done. Oh, she likely possessed a condemnatory opinion of him.

      Chagrined, he closed the folders and noted the time. The wall clock showed half past ten. What was Miss Shaw doing now?

      An unusual noise drew his attention to the front window. This area of town was as quiet as a tomb, all businesses closed and entertainment located elsewhere. Not a single carriage rolled down the thoroughfare, Bond Street a far cry from society’s reverie.

      But then, the sudden noise came again, this time louder. The jangle of keys perhaps? He strode to the door, unlocked the latch and poked out his head. A cool breeze reminded of the late hour and he stepped СКАЧАТЬ