Where to Woo a Bawdy Baron (Romancing the Rake 3)

“Thank you for escorting us to the match, Lord Craven.” Juliet smiled brightly though her brow furrowed. “I personally love the game. Tell me, do you play cricket?” she asked as she shifted in her seat, spreading out her skirts.

He nodded stiffly. “Not for ages, of course. But I used to excel at the game.” Physical movement had always been his strength. He’d been faster, stronger, more coordinated than every other player at most any game.

Juliet cocked one of her brows. “Really? With your build? How shocking.”

“Juliet,” Bianca admonished. “Be nice.”

“I am being nice. He knows I was being sarcastic. He could be carved from stone like one of the statues in Lady Percy’s garden with his build.”

His eyebrows lifted and a small smile touched his lips. Juliet was a bit more like Bianca than he’d first imagined and he quite liked her. The compliment helped. “Thank you, Miss Moorish. Very kind of you.”

Of course he’d known that women found him physically attractive. Which was how he got away with not saying much. At least in the sort of causal relationships he kept.

She waved. “I wasn’t being kind. It’s the truth.” She sat forward, her gaze narrowing as she looked back and forth between Bianca and himself. “An athletic lord is taking us to a sporting game where your tormentor is the lead player and captain of the team.”

He cocked a brow, his hands rubbing together. “An athlete, is he?”

Juliet pointed her finger at him. “You knew about William.”

“I do. We met some of his friends in the square earlier.” He cracked his knuckles without thinking the gesture through, showing exactly what he intended to do to the man who’d hurt Bianca’s feelings so often.

Juliet clapped her hands, a large smile splitting her face. “Oh, this should be fun.”

“No fun today.” He shook his head. “Just observation.”

“Today is just observation?” Bianca asked, scooting closer. “So you’ll be staying for a few days?”

He gazed over at her, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her again. The thought of leaving made his stomach twist in discomfort. He tried not to think about the feeling too much. He had a little time to help her and have a very good reason to stay in this little village. “A few.”

Juliet looked between him and her sister. “I’ve been thinking, Bianca, that we should hold a soiree. Music and dancing the night away. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“It does,” Bianca answered, her eyes still locked with his. “When do you think we’d have this party?”

“I’m not certain,” Juliet answered. “Lord Craven, how long might you stay in Seabridge Gate?”

Chris gripped his thigh to keep from reaching out and pulling Bianca close. If she asked him that same question, he’d have a difficult time refusing her anything. “I’m not certain, I—”

Bianca leaned further forward, her hands clasped in her lap. Damn it all to hell, but her cleavage peeked out from the lower neckline of her dress. He clenched, his jaw ticking with the effort to keep still.

“Wouldn’t a dance be fun?” Bianca asked, her breath catching.

No. A dance sounded positively dreadful. He hated such events. But he found he quite liked the sound of her voice when it was breathless with excitement. And much to his surprise, the idea of dancing her out of a ball and onto a patio where they found some dark corner sounded even better than fun. “The idea holds a certain charm.”

Juliet clapped. “I’ll see how quickly I can plan one.”

Chris shook his head. He was helping an innocent woman all the while agreeing to attend a ball. What had gotten into him?

* * *

Bianca worried the inside of her cheek as she stared across the carriage at Chris. The man stole her breath.

She’d fancied herself in love with William. He was handsome and popular within the village. Many of the ladies fawned over him to gain his favor. And she’d wanted to be one of the women to whom he turned his attention. She supposed, in a way, he had.

His teasing was a certain form of attention. But rather than feel good, his barbs had often cut deep. And half the village had joined him in his mockery, which hurt a great deal, but William’s words had always stung more.

She’d had such an affection for the merchant’s son. But now…

What she’d felt for William didn’t even compare to the breathless excitement that filled her every time Chris was near. Was it just because Chris was nice to her? That he touched her, kissed her even? Or were they just better suited to one another?