Page 18 of Seduction of a Widow

The doubt in Alice’s eyes turned knowing. “I do believe you have a tendre for the man.” Before Leslie could deny the accusation, Alice added, “That was an interesting…altercation between you and Mr. MacLaren’s former paramour.”

Leslie scowled. “You love gossip too much, Alice.”

Alice laughed without rancor. “Perhaps, but you must admit this piece of gossip is quite juicy.”

Thankfully, the door opened and the air filled with manly scents of leather and cologne as Evan and Sir Stirling entered. Leslie repressed a groan when Alice directed a flirtatious look at MacLaren.

“Mr. MacLaren. Sir Stirling.” Alice’s voice sounded warm and womanly.

Sir Stirling reached her first and took the hand she extended. “Lady Langley, what a lovely surprise. After such a late evening, I had not expected to see you before noon. The rest of the household is still abed.”

Rising in time for breakfast was a novel situation for Leslie. Usually, she dragged Alice into some madcap adventure that lasted until dawn, then slept until noon. Having spent a night full of heated dreams wasn’t like her—even after a night of such erotic lovemaking—and left her feeling oddly vulnerable. She’d woken with a strange hollowness that persisted. Until now.

Those piercing blue eyes stared straight through to her soul. Anticipation tingled through her belly and down to her toes, as though something she’d waited a dreadfully long time for was about to happen. How ridiculous. This was just the start of another chase, another fling. One of many.

Yet, those eyes had haunted her dreams. She released a quiet, slow breath, then resisted the urge for a languid stretch to ease the energy coiled in her muscles. She settled for tapping her toe under the table. A flash in his gaze caused her stomach to flutter. Had he discerned her feelings? Surely not. She’d always been able to maintain a cool exterior.

“Lady Carr.” He grasped the hand she rested on the table and bent over her fingers. He looked at her as he brushed his lips across her flesh and winked.

She pursed her lips to keep from laughing. The man was incorrigible. The men took seats opposite Leslie.

“Are you ready for the race today?” Sir Stirling asked.

Leslie picked up the toast sitting on her plate. “As ready as I can be.” She nibbled the toast.

“I should feel sorry for Lord Barnton,” he said with a laugh.

Evan heaped eggs and bacon onto his plate. A maid entered with a fresh pot of coffee and filled their cups.

“Lord Barnton deserves everything he is about to get,” Evan said.

“I think you are going to enjoy seeing him trounced,” Alice said.

“I am.” He thanked the maid, took a sip of his coffee, then added, “Just as Lady Carr will enjoy trouncing him.”

“You are looking fine this morning, Lady Carr,” Sir Stirling said.

Leslie froze, her fork midway to her mouth. “I beg your pardon?”

Mischief lit his eyes. “I said, you are looking fine this morning.”

He knows. Impossible.

“I noticed that, as well,” Alice said.

Leslie willed herself not to look at Evan—who she knew was staring—and ate the eggs on her fork. She wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and smiled sweetly. “Who knew rising early was good for the health?”

“Rising early, you say?” Mr. MacLaren said.

The cad was egging her on.

“What else could it be?” she said, and cursed her rebel tongue.

His brows rose.

Thankfully, before he could reply, Baroness Trent entered with three other guests. But that didn’t stop him from casting her amused glances throughout the remainder of breakfast.

***