The Husband Hunt (Madison Sisters 3)

"It's not my leg," he muttered and then could have bit his tongue off at the admission.

"Then what is it? Have you something in your pocket?" she asked curiously, shifting about again.

"Aye," he growled, his hands grasping her hips to hold her still. His eyes then wandered of their own accord down her body again before he could catch himself. Robert looked quickly away and gave himself a firm lecture. This was Lisa Madison who was like a little sister to him. A sweet, innocent, dreamy-eyed - Damn, when the hell had she filled out like this?

Tilting her head, Lisa eyed him curiously. "Can I see it?"

"See what?" he asked with a distracted frown, his eyes sliding back to her, but staying firmly on her face this time.

"What you have in your pocket that's so lumpy and hard?" she explained. "What is it? Show it to me. "

Robert simply stared for the longest time, aware that his lumpy hardness was growing lumpier and harder at the very thought of showing it to her. But then he regained enough of his senses to catch her by the hips and shift her to sit on the opposite bench.

"It shan't be long before we reach my townhouse," he announced, desperate to change the subject. "I told the driver to use the back alley so that you wouldn't be seen. "

"That was kind. I think," she added with uncertainty. "Although I don't see why I can not be seen entering your townhouse. Unless, of course, it's because I'm a single lady. But everyone knows our families are friends and surely wouldn't think anything of it. It is daytime, after all, and Bet will be there. "

"Lisa, Bet is already at the townhouse, so she wouldn't be seen accompanying you," he pointed out patiently, and then added with exasperation, "And frankly, it wouldn't matter if it were morning, noon or night. Dressed as you are it would cause a scene should you be seen at all, let alone entering a man's home. "

"What is wrong with the way I am dressed?" she asked with surprise.

"Your gown is see-through," he pointed out, unable to believe she would even ask. Of course, pointing that out made his eyes wander over all that lovely revealed flesh again and he was hard pressed to stop devouring her with his eyes this time.

"Is it?" Lisa asked with what appeared to be real surprise, and then squinted down at herself rather owlishly.

Frowning, Robert asked, "Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

"Yes. No. Well, perhaps," she said on a sigh and then admitted, "Everything has been a little blurry since the second drink Mrs. Morgan insisted I down. Things keep going in and out of focus. Mostly out of focus. " She sighed and then confessed, "The only way I recognized that it was you at the window was because your scent drifted in on the breeze when you opened it. " She heaved out a little breath and squirmed slightly on her bench seat. "You do have a very particularly lovely scent, Robert. It's spicy and a little woodsy and really quite nice. It makes me all tingly. "

"Tingly," Robert echoed faintly.

Lisa smiled at him beatifically and nodded. "Yes, tingly. All over. When I was sitting on your lap your smell seemed to envelop me. I liked that, Robert. Can I not sit there again?"

"No," he growled, desperately battling the urge to say yes and pull her back there himself. "It's not proper. "

"Oh, of course," she said on a disappointed little sigh, and then leaned back and announced, "But Robert, I love you. Surely that makes it okay?"

"I love you too," he muttered, struggling to keep his eyes above her neck. "You are like a little sister to me. "

Lisa scowled. "I am not your little sister. "

"You are to me," Robert assured her, his gaze drifting downward and then quickly away. Forcing some firmness into his voice, he added, "You, Suzette and Christiana have always been like the sisters I never had. "

"Sisters," she snapped with disgust. "I am not your sister, Robert Langley. "

"Well, that is how I see you, Lisa Madison. Like a sweet little sister. " Usually, he added silently. Dear God, there was nothing little sisterly about her just then, and neither his thoughts nor his body's reactions were anywhere near filial in nature.

"Well I am not your little sister, Robert. In fact, there is nothing little about me anymore at all. I'm a grown woman, and if you're too dense to see that, then perhaps it's time I found someone more intelligent to give my love to. "

Robert's gaze slid to her again and he quickly removed his cape and leaned forward to wrap it around her, muttering. "I wish you would. "

Lisa stiffened as the first real emotions she'd experienced since Mrs. Morgan had forced those drinks on her pierced the fog clouding her brain. And those feelings were disappointment and fury. She had loved this man forever, since she was knee high to her father, and Robert valued it about as much as an old pair of shoes thrown out on the dung heap.

"As you wish," she said coldly, gathering his cape around herself. She then leaned to the window to glance out as the carriage slowed. "That is Richard and Christiana's townhouse. "

"Aye," Robert muttered, not bothering to look. "We have to pass it on the way to my place. Close the curtain, Lisa. One of the servants might look out and see you riding past. "

Lisa scowled, but just shrugged. "I may as well just go home rather than trouble you to take me to your townhouse. Send Bet home when you get there, please. "

"You are not - Lisa!" he snapped as she opened the door and leapt from the stopping vehicle. It was only when her feet hit the pavement that she realized she was barefoot. Ignoring that, she glanced to the front of the carriage to see what had made them stop. Richard and Christiana's neighbors, the Wortheys, were returning home from an outing, their carriage blocking the road as the couple disembarked.

"Lisa!" Robert hissed from behind her, but she ignored him and hurried to the gate leading to the walk to Richard and Christiana's front door. She heard his boots hit the pavement behind her, but didn't glance around, merely hurrying to the door and rushing inside.

The entry was empty. Even in her still somewhat muddled state, Lisa thought that could only be a good thing. Pushing the door closed, she slipped quickly up the stairs, and then along the hall to the room she was occupying, neither slowing nor stopping until she was safely inside.

Once there, however, Lisa paused briefly to lean against the door, her eyes closing. She should want to cry. She should want to scream and throw something. She knew with some part of her brain that she really did want to, but the brief, sharp pang of fury and disappointment that had managed to pierce the numbness claiming her had already receded and become a faint memory. She couldn't seem to feel anything again. All she seemed to want to do was lie down.

Pushing herself away from the door, she crossed the room in what she suspected was an unsteady gait and then simply collapsed on the bed.

Robert started to follow Lisa, but stopped after just a couple of steps and waited uncertainly. If her arrival was witnessed, his presence might just cause more trouble. Hell, if Richard had returned by now and witnessed her arrival and her state of dress - or undress as the case may be - he'd come out and demand an explanation. However, if she got in without being seen, his approaching the door might draw attention to her arrival and her state. He hesitated, unsure what to do, but after several moments passed without anyone coming out after him, Robert turned and got back in the carriage, then tapped on the wall to let his driver know to continue. He would return home and send Bet back to help her mistress. Lisa hadn't been in the best shape and could no doubt use assistance getting out of that gauzy creation laughingly called a gown.

Then he'd take himself down to Mrs. Morgan's and release some of the frustration now filling him by raising a little hell. By the time he finished with her, the woman wouldn't ever again think of mixing herself up in anything like this and he'd know exactly who this "suitor" was . . . And then he'd pay that bastard a visit too.

"Miss. "

Lisa stirred sleepily and opened one eye to peer at the woman leaning over her. Bet. Pushing the other eye open, she smiled at her a bit woozily. "Oh, good. You're okay. "

"Aye. Thank goodness you are too," Bet said, settling on the side of the bed with a crooked smile. "I was ever so worried until Lord Langley returned and said he'd got you safely away. "

Lisa grimaced at the name and then closed her eyes on a muttered, "Horrid man. "

"Horrid man?" Bet asked with confusion. "Did you meet the suitor then? Lord Langley said he got you out in time. "

"Not the suitor," she growled. "Robert. "

"Oh. " There was a pause and then Bet asked uncertainly, "Did he behave inappropriately?"

"No . . . the deuced fellow was as proper as could be," she growled with exasperation and then rolled onto her back with an unhappy sigh. "I told him I love him, Bet, but he said flat out that he thinks of me as a little sister. "

"In that gown?" Bet asked with amazement.

Lisa glanced down with disinterest. It did seem rather revealing and she suspected she should be embarrassed to be wearing it, but couldn't seem to find the emotion within herself. In fact, she felt rather disconnected from all her emotions at the moment . . . even her exasperation and irritation with Robert were a sort of far-off sensation. As if they were standing outside of her somewhere, there but untouchable. It was really quite strange, Lisa thought, and knew she should probably be alarmed by that too, but wasn't.

What the devil had Mrs. Morgan poured down her throat? she wondered, not for the first time, and then glanced to Bet. "Did you just get home from Robert's?"

"Nay. I've been home for hours. Lord Langley said ye'd most like be needing help getting out of that getup, but when I came up here you were dead to the world so I let you sleep. But if you're going to that ball tonight, ye need to be dressing. " She frowned uncertainly. "Are ye going to the ball?"

Lisa debated the matter briefly and almost said no, she wanted to sleep, but then reconsidered. Robert wasn't interested. It appeared she'd wasted her love on him all these years. She was twenty-one years old now, an old maid to many, and here she'd sat on the shelf all these years in the vague hope that Robert would finally notice that she was all grown up. But frankly, if seeing her in this gown didn't stop him from looking at her like a "little sister," nothing would. It was time she took herself off the shelf and found a husband.

Sitting up determinedly, Lisa tossed the covers aside. "Aye. I am going to the ball. 'Tis time I found a husband, Bet, and all of the ton will be at the Landons' season-opening ball, which means every single eligible bachelor presently in town will be there as well. "

Noting Bet's concerned expression, she smiled and got to her feet. "Mayhap Findlay, that handsome, blond lord who asked me to dance at the Landon ball two years ago will be there again. He was very handsome and seemed to like me the last time we attended. If he's still single, mayhap he'll ask me to dance again. " Her mouth firmed out determinedly. "If he does, this time I shall pay him more attention and let him woo me. "

"Are ye sure?" Bet asked, looking troubled. Reaching out to steady her mistress, she added, "Lord Robert said ye'd obviously been given some sort of tincture and I don't think it's quite worn off yet. "

"I'm sure it will wear off by the time I'm dressed and ready to go," Lisa said with unconcern, but wasn't at all sure it would. She simply felt . . . well, she felt oddly invincible, untouchable . . . or maybe she just couldn't seem to care.