Page 49 of Unmasking the Earl

“A man of many talents,” Ned interrupted impatiently. “But there are plenty of other men who display similar qualities.”

“So Portia keeps telling me,” Cassie said wryly.

Ned’s heart sped up. So, there was hope? Time to point out the obvious. “Has Carnforth ever given you reason to believe he felt the same way about you?”

She shrugged. “You gentlemen can be very hard to read. You play your games, have your rivalries, lay wagers on who will be the first to steal a kiss from a particular woman… Heaven forbid a man be straightforward.”

Ah, but he had been, with Ned. Now would be the moment to tell her the truth.

That Julian Carnforth had eyes only for Lady Lucy and would never look on Cassandra as anything other than a sister.

“Has Julian ever kissed you?” he asked bluntly.

This time she halted in mid-step. She withdrew her hand from his arm and turned to face him. “That is an impertinent question.”

“As one who has also kissed you, I have a right to know. Well, has he?”

She nibbled her lip. He wanted to nibble it, too.

Her gaze fell, and her mouth curved downward. “Not yet. That’s why I came to Wycherley, to find out how to make Julian see me differently, to see me as a woman.”

“And I’ve told you how foolish that is. Any man with eyes in his head would see you as a woman. You already know how you affect me.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a coquettish look. “Well, that’s something, I suppose.”

He stared at her. She was flirting with him?

“Stand still,” he commanded. “There is something I need to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Trust me.”

“But—”

The ribbons of her bonnet came undone without difficulty. He removed it and watched the sun turn her hair into threads of spun gold. It was a crime to hide such splendor from the light. He put the bonnet in her hands, then bent and placed a kiss on the top of her head, relishing the feel of the fine hair against his lips.

There was no movement, no response. He might as well be kissing the hair on a doll.

It was obvious she needed further instruction.

He lifted her into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked.

“I’m going to finish the lessons Wycherley began.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Cassie went absolutely still. The feel of Ned’s powerful body moving as he carried her into the neighboring field was a compelling distraction from the chaos running rampant in her mind.

Her side was pressed against his firm, flat stomach, her feet floated just above the young stalks of wheat, and her head nestled against the muscle of his chest. Somehow, her hands were twined about his neck, her bonnet dangling from her fingers by its strings.

The urge to pull herself up so she could kiss the edge of his jaw was almost irresistible. But that would only encourage him.

Just how far was he prepared to take her “lesson?” She was terrified to find out.

More terrified not to find out.