“In the snow?” She gave him a disbelieving look that was tinged with humor.
“Yewalked here in the snow,” he pointed out.
“More the fool I am for doing so!” She held her foot out and wiggled her toes in her slippers. “My feet are sopping wet!”
“I’ll fetch ye a foot warmer,” Elizabeth offered and scurried off.
Simon gave Caitlin a look that he hoped conveyed his desire for privacy. He was certain it did when his sister simply smirked at him and crossed her arms over her chest before sweeping a critical eye over Anne. “Isn’t it improper for ladies to go traipsing about without a chaperone? Especially to a bachelor’s home.”
“Indeed, it is,” Anne said cheerily. When Caitlin gave her a quizzical look, Anne went on. “No one knows I’m here. I went to see my brother-in-law and sister first, and then I walked here. Our homes are quite close.” Her gaze darted to Simon once more.
Anne was a most definite bold rule breaker, and Simon quite liked it too much.
“Would ye not risk ruination if ye are discovered?” Caitlin prodded.
“Caitlin,” Simon felt obliged to chide, though he hoped Anne would answer. He was very curious to hear what she would say.
“Yes,” she said in an unconcerned manner that baffled him. “I suppose I would. But I’m an heiress, you see, so…” She shrugged.
Simon thought he understood. “So thetonwould forgive ye yer transgressions?”
Her gaze bored into his. “Perhaps not all in theton, but I find that lately, I simply don’t care whether thetonaccepts me or not.”
That was why they clamored at her feet. Or one of the reasons, anyway. She was beautiful, wealthy,andbold. “Ye have the luxury not to care, but many do not,” he said, thinking upon Rutledge.
“It is a luxury, yes,” she agreed, “but one wrapped in thorns.”
“What sort of thorns?” Caitlin asked, all wide-eyed curiosity. It warmed Simon to see his sister eager to speak to another. She’d been sullen and unsocial since they’d come to England.
“Oh, the sort who wear cravats,” Anne replied, her gaze straying to Simon’s neck. His body hummed with a keen awareness of her.
“Cravats?” Caitlin asked.
Anne did not move her gaze from Simon’s neck as she answered. “Yes, perfectly knotted ones made of expensive silk in hopes that the rogue wearing it may secure an heiress to fill their chests and plan their parties, all the while looking pretty and only speaking of the weather.”
“That sounds extremely dull and lacking,” Simon said.
Slowly, she brought her gaze to meet his once more. “Yes, it does,” she murmured.
Without taking his gaze off her, Simon said, “Caitlin, go practice the pianoforte.”
“But—”
“Now,” he added in a tone that allowed no disagreement. Caitlin grunted, but then the sound of retreating footsteps filled the air. Simon and Anne did not move. They stood face-to-face, staring at each other until Simon was sure that he would not tug her to him and seal his mouth over hers. “I would think an heiress could choose a husband who did not bore her.”
“One would think that,” Anne agreed, “but one can only choose from the offerings.”
His blood seemed to thicken in his veins as he held her gaze. “Do ye mean to tell me that ye’re not interested in anyone who has offered for ye?”
“I don’t mean to tell you anything,” she said. “Yet I find myself standing here revealing things, regardless of my intentions.”
He understood the confusion in her voice, for he felt a stormy chaos inside himself, too. He was supposed to be seducing her for revenge, yet he found himself intrigued by her. He did not need to be intrigued; he needed to be cold and purposeful.
“What is it ye’re looking for in a husband?” he asked, his voice husky. “Perhaps I can help ye.”
She cocked her head as if considering. “Possibly. Though, well, I’m inclined to believe it’s very doubtful.”
“Well, perhaps we should start with a dance?” he offered.
