To Romance a Charming Rogue (Courtship Wars) - Page 18

She cared nothing for him any longer, so whatever dalliances he enjoyed were none of her affair.

And if she still harbored any remaining feelings of attraction or tenderness or love for him… well, Eleanor vowed fiercely to herself, she intended to conquer them immediately, once and for all!

The trouble was, forgetting about Damon was much easier said than done. Eleanor left Fanny's house in good spirits, having further discussed her strategy for appealing to Prince Lazzara. She was disappointed, however, that she saw no sign of the prince that evening when she attended a musical concert with her aunt.

And she was exceedingly vexed when fantasies of Damon intruded on her sleep for the second night in a row. Even worse, she dreamed about the time shortly after they became betrothed, when she'd taken Damon to see her special place-the rose garden that her brother had given her-and foolishly confessed her love to him…

Writhing with humiliation at the remembrance, Eleanor woke early the following morning, furious at herself for not having better control over her mind and her heart. Damon was no longer the man of her dreams-so why the devil would he not leave them now?

Yet she was actually startled when the object of her vexation was announced by the Beldon butler just after she finished a solitary breakfast and repaired to the morning parlor to reread a chapter in Fanny's advice book.

Damon strode into the room as casually as he'd done during their betrothal, when he'd had the right to share her company.

Her gaze flying to him, Eleanor nearly dropped her book. He was dressed for riding this morning, and he looked incredibly handsome in a blue coat and buff buckskin breeches that molded his athletic form to perfection.

Deploring how her heart leapt at his unexpected appearance, Eleanor started to rise from the sofa where she was seated, but Damon held up a hand to forestall her.

“Pray, don't trouble yourself on my account, Lady Eleanor. I shan't be long.”

“My l-lord…” she stammered. “Whatever are you doing here?”

“I thought to catch you at home before you set out on your morning ride.”

She didn't intend to disclose that she would not be riding this morning-Eleanor abruptly cut off that thought when she recalled that they were not alone.

“That will be all, thank you, Peters,” she said to Lady Beldon's august butler, who was hovering protectively at the parlor entrance.

Peters's expression showed the slightest measure of disapproval, but at Eleanor's dismissal, he bowed and retreated from the room.

Setting aside her book, she frowned at her noble visitor. “You should not be here, my lord.”

Damon raised an eyebrow as he moved closer to stand before her. “Is it a crime to pay you a morning call?”

“Not a crime perhaps, but definitely a social transgression. You have no business here.”

“I wanted to make certain you were unharmed after the carriage accident yesterday.”

Eleanor's brows drew together uncertainly. “As you see, I am quite well. Did you expect the incident to overset my sensibilities?”

“Hardly. I know you too well.”

When Damon flashed her an amused smile, Elea nor did her best to hide her involuntary physical response. Yet she couldn't repress the dizzy pleasure she felt when he smiled at her that way, or control the flush of warmth that suffused her body when his gaze drifted over her morning gown of jonquil muslin.

“You do look the picture of health,” Damon observed.

Not having a ready reply, Eleanor stirred in her seat and kept silent.

“I gather the Dragon has not yet risen this morning,” he said, casting a glance up at the ceiling toward the second floor where Lady Beldon was still abed.

Eleanor stiffened at the unappealing sobriquet. Her Aunt Beatrix had been more of a mother to her than her own mother, so Eleanor felt compelled to defend her. “You only consider her a dragon because she championed me two years ago when our betrothal ended.”

Damon gave a mock wince. “My ears are still ringing from the tongue-lashing she gave me.”

“You deserved it, you know very well.”

“True. But Lady Beldon never approved of me from the start.”

“Because of your wicked reputation. My aunt does not care for rakes or rebels.”

Tags: Nicole Jordan Historical
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