Guarding a Notorious Lady Read Free Page A

you go and speak with him, then?” Lucy blinked in surprise. “I shouldn’t know what to say.”
    “We are at a bookshop, for heaven’s sake. Ask him a question about a book.”
    “What book?”

    “Any book. It doesn’t matter.”
    Hesitating, Lucy tapped her finger against her teeth.
    “Go on,” Rosalind urged, jerking her chin in the direction Stokes had gone. “If I were you, I should think I’d sidle up next to him and start fretting about not being able to reach a book. It’s bound to work.” Lucy gasped, her eyes wide and her smile alight with enthusiasm. “A test of his gall antry,” she replied in a loud whisper. “brilliant!”
    Rosalind nodded in encouragement. “Why don’t you give it a try?”
    “Yes. Yes, I’ll do just that. Superior idea!” As Lucy sped off down the aisle—busy with thoughts of snagging Lord Stokes—Rosalind turned her attention back to peeking through the bookshelf in order to gauge Miss Honeywel ’s progress.
    “Oh, dear,” Rosalind whispered, her shoulders falling in disappointment. It appeared they had gone separate ways.
    Rosalind carefully slid a particularly meaty tome two inches further down the shelf in order to get a better view. Lord Beecham had rounded the corner and was clearly exiting in a rush. What had happened?
    Completely enthralled with just what exactly had occurred between the couple, she forgot her position on the ladder. She arched her feet and now stood on the tips of her toes.
    Her head now in the shelf along with a dusty book, Rosalind nudged the thick tome further out of her way with the side of her forehead. Had they argued? And Miss Honeywel . . . where had she gone? She gazed up and down the aisle as far as she could see. Was she upset as well? Oh, dear, what had happened?
    If Rosalind had been paying any attention at all to just how far she was leaning to the side, she would have surely caught herself by grabbing hold of the sides of the ladder. Instead, her toes slid on the rung.
    She didn’t have time to scream. With nothing underneath for purchase, she toppled backwards, her knees bending. Gloved fingers grasped for the ladder but failed. Her entire body hardened, preparing for a jarring impact with the hard floor.
    Her backside never found it.
    Two strong hands caught her swiftly underneath the arms, her back slamming into the unforgiving wall of a man’s solid chest. While the air in her lungs seemed to be locked on a frozen scream, his warm, even breath feathered the top of her head. It felt as if time had been suspended.
    The backs of her calves rested on the fourth rung, and her feet had pushed a row of books through to the other side. He held her thus, in this ridiculous position, before she realized he was waiting for her to pull her legs out and stand on the floor.
    A scorching blush inflamed her entire body. How ungainly, how graceless.
    Trembling, she pulled her legs through one by one, while he held her steady. With both of her feet firmly on the floor, he hesitated, his hands firm and reassuring against her back. She exhaled shakily before he finally let go.
    Pressing her lips together, Rosalind wavered, reluctant to turn around and thank him for saving her from numerous broken bones. Perhaps he would just walk away and she could pretend this had never happened?
    No. That would never do. Good manners decreed she thank him. Straightening, she turned and found herself staring at the middle of his chest. She cleared her throat. “Dear man, I must extend my sincerest . . .” She tilted her head back and met disapproving gray eyes.
    “Nicholas,” she barely choked out.

    “My lady,” he murmured with a slight dip of his head.
    “I . . . I—”
    “—should watch what the devil you’re doing?” he reproved, one brow arched. “I certainly hope this isn’t a habit of yours—to behave so recklessly.”
    “Er, not usually,” she managed to mumble.
    Oh, what a witty girl, she thought, nearly rolling her eyes at