The Marriage Wager Read Online Free Page B

now.” She smiled a little to soften the words. “I am here only to help Aunt Blanche chaperone her daughters. They are making their come-out.”
    He quirked one eyebrow. “You? A chaperone?” He smiled. “You will forgive me, I hope, if I say that sounds absurd. You are far too lovely to be a chaperone. I fear your aunt will find that her daughters’ suitors call to see you instead.”
    “You, sir, are a flatterer.” Constance glanced toward the door. “I must go.”
    “You will abandon me? Come, do not leave just yet. I am sure your cousins will survive a bit longer without your chaperonage.”
    In truth, Constance had little desire to leave. It was far more entertaining to exchange light banter with the handsome viscount than it would be to stand with her cousins watching others talk and flirt. However, she feared that if she stayed away too long, her aunt would come looking for her. And the last thing she wanted was for Aunt Blanche to find her closeted here with a strange man. Even more than that, she had no desire for her aunt to meet Lord Leighton and become another of the pack of mothers who hounded him.
    “No doubt. But I am neglecting my duty.” She held out her hand to him. “Goodbye, my lord.”
    “Miss Woodley.” He took her hand in his, smiling down at her. “You have brightened up my evening considerably.”
    Constance smiled back, unaware of how her enjoyment had put a sparkle in her eye and a flush in her cheeks. Even the severity of her gown and hairstyle could not mask her attractiveness.
    He did not release her hand immediately, but stood, looking down into her face. Then, much to Constance’s surprise, he bent and kissed her.
    Startled, she froze. The kiss was so unexpected that she did not pull away, and after a moment she found that she had no desire to do so. His lips were light and soft on hers, a mere brushing of his mouth against hers, but the touch sent a tingle all through her. She thought he would pull away, but to her further surprise, Leighton did not. Instead, his kiss deepened, his lips sinking into hers and gently, inexorably, opening her lips to him. Her hands went up instinctively to his chest. She should, she knew, thrust him away from her with great indignation.
    But without any conscious thought, her hands instead curled into the lapels of his jacket, holding on against the swarm of sensations assaulting her. His hand went to her waist, wrapping around her and pulling her into him, and the other hand cupped the nape of her neck, holding her as his mouth worked its way with her.
    Frankly, Constance was glad for his steadying support, for her knees seemed about to give way. Her entire body, in fact, suddenly was weak and melting and seemingly beyond her control. She had never felt anything like this before, not even when she was nineteen and in love with Gareth Hamilton. Gareth had kissed her when he asked her to marry him, and she had thought nothing could be as sweet. It had made things even harder when she had to turn him down in order to nurse her father through his last illness. But Lord Leighton’s embrace was not sweet at all; it was hard and demanding, and his kiss seared her. And though she scarcely knew the man, her body was trembling and her thoughts scattered to the winds.
    He lifted his head, and for a long moment they stared at each other, more shaken than either cared to admit. Leighton drew a breath and stepped back, releasing Constance. She gazed at him, eyes wide, unable to speak. Then she turned and hurried from the room.
     
    T HERE WAS NO ONE IN THE hallway outside the library, for which Constance was very grateful. She could not imagine how she must look. If it was anything like the way she felt inside, then she was sure that anyone who saw her would stare. Her heart was galloping in her chest, and her nerves were thrumming.
    There was a mirror on the wall halfway down the corridor, and Constance walked to it to take stock of herself. Her eyes were