What a Vulgar Viscount Needs (Romancing the Rake 5)

“Cordelia?”

Ash looked to the right to see Cordelia’s eldest sister, Ophelia, standing a few feet from them under the branches of a tree. Her hands were clasped and her eyebrows up as she stared at them.

“Yes?” Cordelia asked, her face swiveling away from him and toward her sister.

Ophelia stepped out from under the branches, her gaze lingering on Ash. All that tension returned. Her eyes narrowed as she stared. “Just wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?”

Cordelia waved her hand, her long, tapered fingers fluttering like leaves in the wind. “Fine. Lord Dashlane and I were discussing Papa’s announcement.”

“Announcement?” Ophelia asked, her eyes going wide again as she rushed forward. “What announcement?”

“That I’m to go to London. There’s a month left in the season before everyone travels back to the country.”

“London? Why? With whom?” Ophelia was right next to them now, her hand plucking at her sister’s sleeve.

Cordelia wrinkled her adorable nose. “Aunt Mildred.”

Ophelia gasped. “No. Why? That will be absolute torture. She’s so—”

Cordelia looked down at their still-joined hands. She gave his a light squeeze. “He thinks it’s time I find a husband. I can only assume that all of you pairing off has made him antsy to get the job done.”

Ophelia covered her mouth with her hand as she looked again at Lord Dashlane. Then her hand dropped. “And was Lord Dashlane presenting possible solutions?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Just the one.”

Ophelia dropped her hands, pressing her skirts smooth of any nonexistent wrinkles. “I understand.” She took a step back. “I’ll be in the rose garden if you need me.” Then she melted back under the trees, leaving the two of them alone once again.

* * *

Cordelia turned back to the man who had sent her spinning. Her father’s announcement had been one thing. After the initial shock of it, she’d realized he was still her papa and he’d be reasonable at the end.

But this man. She wasn’t certain he was safe. Was she jumping from the frying pan into the fire?

When she’d first met him, he’d been a handsome, carefree, lovable rake. The more she knew him, however, the more she understood there was literally layer upon layer underneath his façade teeming with emotion.

And then there were the feelings he brought out in her. Granted, she hadn’t met a great deal of men in her life, but the one standing in front of her frightened her.

No, that wasn’t quite right. He made her frightened of herself.

He effortlessly brought out emotions in her she didn’t even know she’d had. Curiosity, passion, desire. And he amplified others. She wanted to help him too, hold him, comfort him. Those might be the ones that worried her the most.

Because she could fall into this relationship, wanting to help. But how could they remain distant with all those feelings teeming inside her?

“Like I said,” his voice hummed through her, causing shivers of pleasure to scatter along her skin. “You can take all the time you need. With all the impending weddings, I’ll be here. I think your schedule might be the determining factor.”

She nodded. “Thank you.” What else did one say to a proposal of convenience? “If you don’t mind, I may return to the music room. I often think best when playing.”

He shook his head. “You should eat first. You haven’t done that yet.”

She blinked, her lips parting. “I suppose I didn’t.”

He gave her a soft smile. One of the ones he’d warned her to guard against. He was right. They made a woman’s heart thunder. “You need someone to care for you, Cordelia. I could be that someone.”

Her head tilted to the side. “You need someone too. I can feel it.”

She could also feel his withdrawal. The way her words made him tense. Almost imperceptibly, he leaned away from her and that soft smile turned brittle.

“I’ve been caring for myself for a long time,” he said.