The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London 1)

A dark cloud descended, one that rained melancholy and pessimism in bucket loads. The earl sat forward, his elbow resting on his knee, his hand covering his mouth as if trying to avoid inhaling the heavy downpour of emotion.

Like the unsteady rocking of the carriage, Nicole’s thoughts swayed to and fro all the way back to Stanton House. Indeed, her mind was in such a muddle she entered the building through the front door instead of using the access route through the mews.

“Can I interest you in a nightcap, Miss Flint?” The earl’s rich voice dragged her from her reverie. He stood before the grand staircase, his broad shoulders filling her field of vision. “After hours spent in the cold, it would be wise to take something strong to drink. The last thing either of us needs is to catch a chill.”

And I don’t want to be alone.

He hadn’t said those words. Yet for some reason, she heard them.

“Thank you. Having spent many nights in the draughty manor, one gets used to the cold.” Despite the late hour, sleep was the last thing on her mind. She did not want to lie in bed with her thoughts flitting between macabre visions of Rose and naked visions of her friend’s brother. “But a drink would be most welcome.”

The need to comfort him took hold, and she did not want to be alone, either.

Taking his direction, she entered the room on their left, surprised to find herself in his study, not the drawing room.

A fire burned in the grate, yet the air held a musky masculine scent that reminded her so much of him. He took a taper from the holder on the wall near the door, moved to the fire, and then to light the candles in the gilt branch on the desk.

“Allow me to take your cloak.” As soon as the earl came to stand behind her, the energy in the room changed. Her skin prickled with excitement and her fingers fumbled to untie the ribbons. Large hands skimmed her shoulders, and her traitorous body shivered in response.

The garment slipped away yet he did not move.

“In the candlelight, your hair glows like amber.” His words drifted over her like a soft caress. He stood so close the essence of the man enveloped her.

Her scalp tingled as he pulled a loose tendril through his fingers.

“Fiery hair, fiery temper,” she said nervously as her body ached for him to touch her again.

She would rather lust course through her veins than guilt.

Lust would ease the ache in her heart, ease the strange pulsing between her legs. Heat pooled in the intimate place and the earl had done nothing but utter a few words.

Drawing a deep breath to bolster her courage, she turned to face him.

Lord above. From the moment he’d climbed out of his coach at Morton Manor, she’d known he was handsome. But with these strange sensations surging through her body, he looked utterly irresistible.

With the back of his fingers, he stroked her cheek, and she resisted the urge to close her eyes. “I must thank you, Miss Flint, for agreeing to accompany me on my quest to find Rose. But I fear, that in my selfishness, I may have made a mistake. Suffered a complete lapse of judgment.”

She tried to keep her face expressionless, sought to banish the crushing in her chest. “I don’t understand.”

“I should not have persuaded you to come here.”

“You would rather I stayed at the manor?” The muscles in her stomach tightened as if preparing for a punch.

“It would have been the logical choice. What if Rose went back there only to find the building empty, deserted?” His expression turned grave. “To focus our search in one place and not two seems foolish now.”

Nicole exhaled. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her near him. He spoke only out of concern for Rose. And yet the solemn conversation did nothing to quell the fluttering of desire in her belly.

“Perhaps I should return to the manor tomorrow.” She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t want to leave him. The thought of staying at Morton Manor alone sent a cold chill down to numb her toes. “I could gather a few of the villagers, search the woods and nearby houses. Someone must have seen Rose.”

“Going back would be the most sensible plan.” He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled. “So why is it every fibre of my being wants to disagree, wants to argue that there’s a desperate need for you to remain here?”

Hope blossomed.

“Because you are a man of your word.” She placed her hand lightly on his sleeve. “You’re torn between helping me, as you promised, and finding Rose.”

“Trust me.” He moistened his lips. The sight of his tongue caused a flutter of anticipation. “My desire to be near you stems from more than a duty to offer assistance. In truth, it is the reason I wanted to take you to Lady Chatwell’s ball. I wanted the world to know of our connection.”

The fact he’d made such an open declaration surprised her. Particularly, when he seemed so confused by his thoughts. “I enjoy your company, too. Friendships are often formed through common goals.”