The School of Charm: Books 1-5

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The School of Charm: Books 1-5 Page 23

by Maggie Dallen


  Reaching out gently, he stroked his knuckles over her jaw, watching with delight as her lips parted and her eyes grew dark and dazed.

  She felt it too, this dizzying pull, this inexplicably intense attraction.

  He was dying to kiss her. Aching to feel her lips against his, to taste her sweetness and revel in her softness. He leaned in slowly, giving her ample time to back away.

  She did not.

  Her gaze looked mesmerized as she watched him move closer, closer…

  When his lips found hers, she sighed softly as if in relief. Heat coursed through him at the feel of her lips moving against his, shyly meeting his kiss as he grazed his mouth over hers.

  He wanted to tug her into his arms and deepen the kiss but the sound of the balcony doors opening behind him had him pulling back instead.

  His heart thumped wildly in his chest, and he knew.

  He just knew.

  Nothing would ever be the same.

  Just like he knew when he’d inherited the title or when he’d gone off to school or when he’d lost his parents… This was one of those moments, albeit a good one. A precious one. He met her gaze as she blinked her way back to reality and he knew—his life would never be the same now that he had kissed Miss Louisa Purchase.

  “You kissed me!” Her exclamation made him jump slightly and he turned quickly to make sure no one had overheard.

  The few partygoers who’d come outside were talking amongst themselves. They’d thankfully been spared an audience, but not out of any gentlemanly consideration on his part. He’d lost his senses entirely and had very nearly ruined this young lady with one maddening, impulsive kiss.

  He was nearly as stunned as she was by his actions now that reason was returning.

  “Er…” He cleared his throat. “Yes, I did.”

  Her shout hadn’t exactly been one of excitement or happiness. She’d sounded almost…horrified, to be honest.

  “Is that all right?” he asked, rather belatedly.

  She pressed her gloved hand to her lips, her eyes wide in disbelief. Oh drat, perhaps he’d read this all wrong. He’d been so certain she felt the same…

  He’d only meant to tease the real Louisa back to the surface this evening, to draw her out and let her see how much he admired her. He scratched at the back of his head as she scrambled backwards, hissing the words again. “You kissed me.”

  Perhaps he hadn’t quite thought this through.

  She was unique, certainly, but she was still a proper, gently bred young lady and she had no way of knowing how serious his intensions were. He cursed himself thoroughly for not taking the proper steps before kissing her.

  “Louisa, let me just say—”

  “Was this part of the test?” she asked.

  “Er…” Confusion had him blinking rapidly. It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned a test, and he still had no clue what she meant. “What test are you speaking of, exactly?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know that you wanted me here tonight so you could ensure that I was good enough to be attached to your family.”

  “Did I?” His brows shot up because, honestly…what on earth was she talking about?

  She nodded quickly, her eyes darting around in panic. He stepped to the side lest she was trying to flee and somehow felt trapped.

  But she didn’t run. Instead, she reached out and thwacked his shoulder.

  Hard.

  “Ow,” he complained, though not without a good deal of amusement. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been struck in any way and not one of them had been by a woman.

  Though if he counted the number of times she’d accosted his feet on the dance floor, he supposed that number was significantly higher.

  “You…you…you callous man,” she said.

  He could practically see how irritated she was with herself at the tame insult. He thought to offer her some better alternatives but she was speaking again, so he thought it best to keep quiet.

  “You cannot just kiss a lady like that.” She huffed and looked around as if for confirmation. “Even I know that.”

  He opened his mouth to explain that he never kissed ladies like that. No kiss he’d shared with anyone had ever been anything like that one. But again, she was too quick.

  “What were you hoping to achieve?” she demanded. “My ruin?”

  “What?” Now it was his voice that was too loud…but honestly. Why on earth would he wish to ruin the lady he hoped to marry? It made no sense! “No, of course not. Louisa, I think there has been some misunderstanding—”

  “Oh really? Do you think so?” She planted her fists on her hips and the sarcasm that dripped from her lips was nearly his undoing.

  Blast it all if he didn’t want to scoop her up in his arms and marry her right this second so he wouldn’t have to face another moment on this planet without this delightful lady at his side.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me right now,” she growled.

  He tried not to. Lord knows he tried.

  He failed.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly as a huff of laughter escaped. “My dear, I am truly sorry to laugh, but you must admit. Your response to being kissed is a bit…extreme.”

  She glared at him. “And how do most ladies react when you kiss them without any warning and when you are supposed to be courting their sister?” She held a hand up to stop him from protesting, but he couldn’t have if he’d tried.

  Her sister?

  Was she on about her sister again? His mind whirled with the attempt to keep up. “What does your sister have to do with any of this?”

  She blinked once. Twice. Thoroughly stunned, apparently. “Everything.” She tilted her head to the side, and now it was she who looked confused.

  Well…at least he wasn’t the only one flummoxed by this conversation. There was some comfort in that.

  “Doesn’t she? I mean, Isn’t she…” Louisa flailed her hands in a helpless gesture. “Isn’t Margaret what this is all about?”

  He narrowed his eyes, praying for patience and striving for seriousness so they could sort this out, but really all he wanted to do was toss his head back and crow to the rooftops that he’d finally found his match. The woman of his dreams. The lady of his heart.

  He cleared his throat. “Let us start from the beginning, shall we? I asked your family to bring you here tonight because I wanted to see you.”

  She narrowed her eyes as well, so they were now peering at each other cautiously. He imagined to any bystander they’d look like wary adversaries squaring off.

  “That’s the only reason?” she finally said.

  He opened his mouth to say yes, but stopped. He didn’t want to lie to Louisa. Not now, not ever. “No,” he said. “Not the only reason.”

  He hoped she did not push for him to explain because he was at a loss as to how to tell her that he’d wanted to ensure that her parents did not hide her again out of embarrassment or shame.

  There was no way to say that without hurting her feelings.

  She pinched her lips together with a sigh as she studied him. “No, I thought not. My mother was right. I am here because of Margaret.”

  He quirked one brow at the resignation in her voice. “I do not think we are talking about the same thing right now.”

  “My mother warned me that you would be testing me.” She sighed, her expression anguished as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “I suppose I’ve failed, haven’t I? Well, I will tell you something, my lord. It is one thing to test a lady, but quite another to…to tempt her.”

  His eyes widened but he wouldn’t let her push him away. She’d gotten this all wrong. Or maybe he had. Either way, this misunderstanding had gone on long enough. “Wait just a moment, Louisa. I can explain, I promise.”

  She crossed her arms with a huff, as if daring him to try, his spirited, flaming little angel.

  “I honestly do not know what you mean when you accuse me of testing you, and as for
tempting…” He stopped. His whole body still as the full force of what she’d said struck him in the gut and nearly leveled him at the knees. “You’re saying that I tempt you?”

  Her gaze widened and her cheeks grew pink as she licked her lips. “Uh…that is…er—” And then she smacked his arm again. “Yes, you beast. You tempted me into kissing you and I revealed just what a foolish girl I really am.”

  He grinned. He couldn’t help it. No one had ever outright called him tempting before. He found that it went to his head. He shifted against the rail, his voice lowering along with his head. “So…I tempt you, do I?”

  She scowled. “Do not tease. It is not kind.” She gave a haughty tilt of her chin. “I am starting to believe that you are not kind. Not to me and definitely not to my sister.”

  “Right,” he said, straightening as he frowned down at her, back to business once more. “Can we please resolve whatever issues you have with your sister, because I have to admit, you are driving me mad every time you mention her.”

  “That’s probably your guilt speaking,” she said, her tone nothing less than saucy.

  “Guilt? For what?”

  “For kissing me instead of her,” she said.

  He blinked rapidly and finally—finally—his sluggish brain started to keep up. “You think I have a special interest in your sister.”

  “Of course I do,” she fairly shouted back at him. “Your match with my sister is all anyone can talk about.”

  “Anyone, hmm?” Something rotten started to brew inside him as he realized what she’d thought, what she must be thinking… “Anyone wouldn’t happen to be your sister and your parents, now would it?”

  His guess was not quite a leap of the imagination. He felt fairly confident that if his so-called impending engagement to a woman he barely knew was the talk of the town, he’d have heard about it by now.

  Her confused scowl was the confirmation he needed. Louisa’s family had taken his visit to mean more than it did, and his polite inquiries to be something far more.

  Oh dear.

  He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it thoroughly, no doubt. “Louisa, I promise you, I never had any intentions of courting your sister.”

  She blinked in shock. “You didn’t?”

  “No.”

  They stood there for several minutes in tense silence. He was waiting for some sort of reaction—

  When she groaned miserably, he shoved his hands into his pockets with a sigh.

  That was not the reaction he’d been hoping for.

  He watched her fret for another long moment before clearing his throat. “I rather thought that might be viewed as good news considering I only kissed you not two minutes ago.”

  “I know, and that was terrible,” she wailed.

  He grimaced at the no-doubt unintended insult. “You certainly know how to keep a gentleman’s ego in check, I’ll give you that.”

  Her eyes widened at his rueful teasing. “Oh no, I did not mean— I merely meant—” She stopped suddenly and gazed up at him with such earnestness his heart ached. “Are all kisses like that?”

  “Like what?” he managed through a dry, croaky throat.

  “Like…” She flailed a hand. “Magic.”

  His heart was officially lost. It was out of his chest and into her hands. He claimed no ownership of the organ as of this moment. “No,” he said seriously, trying to match her earnestness. “Definitely not.”

  She moaned again, clapping a hand over her mouth as she mumbled. “This is terrible.”

  “Not the kiss,” he clarified, hoping to make her smile.

  It worked, if only briefly. She gave him a small smile as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. “No, not the kiss. Just…this.” She gestured to him and then to her.

  Not much better, really.

  “Why, exactly, is this terrible?” he asked.

  She sighed like he was a dim-witted school child. “Because everyone is hoping you will marry Margaret.”

  He studied her in silence for a moment, trying not to be distracted by the way she was worrying her bottom lip. He had questions. Many, many questions. But one seemed to take priority over them all. “Do you wish for me to marry Margaret?”

  Her head snapped up, and whether she knew it or not, the answer was there in her eyes. Still, he waited her out. He needed her to say it. He needed her to know it.

  “No,” she finally said, her voice soft and sweet. “I do not want you to marry Margaret.”

  A tension he hadn’t even known was there eased out of him so suddenly he was forced to lean against the balustrade once more lest he fall at her feet. “Very well, then.”

  She frowned. “Very well? Is that all you have to say on the matter?”

  He arched his brows, torn between amusement and frustration, because honestly…when had anyone ever spoken to him like this? Only his closest friends, on a rare occasion, but certainly not a young lady he was supposed to be courting.

  He was courting her, was he not? It seemed that matter was still up for debate.

  He scrubbed a hand through his hair in confusion. He wished to court the girl, was that so hard? He’d never known wooing someone could be so difficult. His lips twitched with mirth—then again, he’d never attempted to woo anyone like this girl.

  He ought to have known it wouldn’t be simple.

  “What am I going to tell my mother?” she asked. “And Margaret?”

  This last part was said on a horrified whisper that embodied more melodrama than anything he’d ever seen on Drury Lane. “Let me deal with your parents,” he said sternly.

  It was about time he took control of this situation.

  She widened her eyes in disbelief, not at all cowed by his sternness.

  He loved that about her.

  She planted her hands on her hips. “And Margaret?” she demanded. “Are you going to be the one who breaks my poor sister’s heart?”

  That shocked him into a stunned silence. “Break her heart?” he repeated in dismay. He looked around the balcony quickly as he tried to remember and analyze the few times he’d been in the same room with her elder sister. “Is she…” He cleared his throat. “Is Margaret very much in love with me?”

  Her lips twitched and he caught a glimmer of laughter in her eyes, before she said seriously, “I do not believe so, my lord.”

  He sighed with relief and amusement. She was laughing at him, the little minx.

  “But the disappointment,” she added meaningfully. “She has her heart set on a good match, one that would…” She bit her lip as she trailed off, but he knew what she would have said.

  They had their hopes set on Margaret marrying someone who could help save them from their financial difficulties.

  The girl was worried about her family. He hadn’t thought it possible that he could feel any more for this little imp of a lady, but it seemed he was wrong. A protective instinct he hadn’t known he possessed swept over him like a wave.

  He tilted his head down, his chest swelling with tenderness. Everything in him cried out for him to reach out to her and pull her close. He wanted to tell her that she need never worry. Not for her family, not for anything. Soon enough, perhaps. For now, all he could do was grasp her hands in his and hope that she understood his sincerity.

  “It will all be all right, Louisa. Of this I am certain.”

  She peeked up at him through her lashes and he barely stifled a groan of longing. Big eyes and full lips tipped up toward him and he leaned down, unable to stop himself. “I should very much like to kiss you again.”

  Her lids started to flutter shut but just before his lips met hers, she pulled back with a gasp. “Wait.”

  He waited, but it very nearly killed him. Never in his life had he wanted anything more than the feel of her soft lips on his. For a man who’d never fallen victim to the typical vices like gambling and drinking, he was fairly certain this was what it was like to be in one’s thrall. The longing, the craving…the he
ady addiction.

  He swallowed thickly as he pulled back. Above all, he was a gentleman, he reminded himself as he straightened his cravat. But it wasn’t the not kissing her that stung so badly; it was the rejection. Perhaps this was not as mutual as he’d thought.

  “You look ill,” she said bluntly.

  “Yes, well…” He forced a small smile. “I’d rather thought I was making progress in my attempts to woo you.”

  “You are!” Her eyes widened as her cheeks stained pink. “That is, you were. It’s just that…” She wrinkled up her nose. “I cannot allow you to kiss me again unless I know that Margaret is all right with it. She is my sister,” she added with a little plea.

  He sighed. Who could argue with that? He tipped his head in agreement and was rewarded with a brilliant smile.

  It was dazzling, really. So heady he forgot words altogether and stood there mute, taking her in.

  She was lovely. Beautiful and vibrant and brave and—

  “Are you certain?” she asked.

  He huffed with amusement. “I am many things, Louisa, but fickle is not one of them.”

  It was the truth. He knew himself, and he trusted his instincts. He trusted his heart. And there was no doubt in his mind that his heart wanted this lady, whether or not she drove him crazy.

  Maybe because she drove him crazy.

  She made him feel, and that was worth more than any amount of sanity.

  But he did not say all that to her because he had a notion that whatever it was that was causing that doubt to fill her eyes had little to do with him, and everything to do with her.

  “What is it, Louisa? Why do you look so afraid?”

  She let out a long exhale. “I…I do not know whether to believe you.”

  His brows shot up. “You question my honor?”

  “I question your sanity,” she retorted quickly.

  He let out a bark of a laugh and watched with something akin to pride as her lips twitched up in return.

  “What if this is one of those tests my mother tried to prepare me for?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “With all due respect, it is your mother who needs to check her sanity.”

  “With all due respect?” she repeated. “That is not respectful at all. You cannot just add ‘with all due respect’ before a statement and expect it to be respectful.”

 

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