Pursuing Lord Pascal (Dashing Widows 4)
“I’ve never…I’ve never taken a lover,” Amy said unsteadily.
“Well, given dried-up old Wilfred Mowbray is the extent of your experience, it’s time you did.”
“Wilfred was a good man,” she snapped, hearing the guilt lurking beneath her defense of her late husband. Because of course, Pascal excited her in ways that Wilfred never had.
“He was. But he’s gone now. And he was always too old for a vivid creature like you.” Sally set her glass on a side table. The understanding in her face made Amy feel that her friend guessed all her secrets. Including her aching longing to surrender to Pascal and sample this hot magic that put the whole world in a stew. “You need to see what a young, virile man can do for you.”
“And that young, virile man is Lord Pascal?”
“He’s certainly willing. I’ve never seen a man as…willing.”
“It’s a big step.”
“And you’re frightened.”
Amy’s lips twitched. “Terrified. And I can’t quite believe he’s attracted to me.”
Compassion flooded Sally’s face. “Oh, Amy, I hoped you’d got over this silly self-doubt. You’re lovely and smart and unusual, and any man would be lucky to win you. I know it. Meg knows it. Morwenna knows it. All those men who line up to dance with you know it. Believe me, Lord Pascal knows it. The only person who doesn’t know it is you.”
“You make me sound so poor spirited,” Amy said in a subdued voice. The brandy that had tasted so pleasant on her palate now burned like acid in her stomach.
Sally made a sweeping gesture. “No. Just inexperienced in the ways of the world. Pascal is eating his heart out for you.”
“I’m not sure his heart is involved.”
Sally’s smile was arch. “Other parts of him certainly are. The man’s turning into a complete wreck. I started out enjoying the sight of him topsy-turvy over a woman. After all, he’s had enough ladies sighing over him. Now I can’t help feeling sorry for him. If you want him, take him. If you don’t, set the poor fellow loose.”
It might reflect badly on her character, but Amy couldn’t help relishing the thought of gorgeous Gervaise Dacre sick with desire for her humble self. She sucked in a breath and stiffened her backbone as she summoned all her courage. Perhaps it was time to dare.
Her voice emerged with unexpected steadiness. “I want him, all right.”
Sally’s smile was broad and approving. “In that case, do something about it.”
Chapter Ten
Pascal mounted the shallow steps to Sally Norwood’s door two at a time and brought down the knocker with a resounding crash. The butler opened the door and regarded him impassively. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Lady Mowbray has asked to see me.”
“Her ladyship is in the garden. Allow me to show you the way.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find her.”
Ignoring the butler’s disapproval, he strode past the man and through Sally’s elegant house, until he reached the morning room with its doors open on the garden. April was the usual mixture of showers and sunshine—today was like the start of summer.
Or perhaps that was just how he felt this morning.
“I believe she’s sitting beside the fountain, my lord.” The butler had moved at a fair clip to keep pace.
“Thank you.” He flashed the man a smile and ran outside and down the path. He’d been to parties here and headed unerringly for the secluded corner where a mossy stone cupid held a dolphin amid the play of waters.
“Pascal.” Amy’s joyous expression as she stood echoed the happiness exploding like fireworks in his heart. He strode up to her, boots crunching on the gravel, and caught her by the shoulders.
“Is it yes?”
Her eyes sparkled with indomitable spirit. “It’s yes.”
“My darling,” he breathed, dragging her into his body for a kiss so hot it threatened to blast him to ash.