In the Garden of Seduction Read Free Page B

remained of her
dignity, she stepped over the sill, following Sophy into the
night.
     
    *****
     
    Sometime before dawn Simon came to stand on
the walk outside Mrs. Witherspoon’s town house, one of the last of
her guests to go home. Strange he had stayed so long when he’d been
determined to leave hours before.
    He gazed at the stars overhead, winking at
him from a cloudless, blue-black sky, and for several moments he
permitted his thoughts to rest on Miss Cassandra James.
    He had a difficult time erasing the image of
the wounded look in her expressive blue eyes. And it troubled him
to admit his lack of sensitivity was the direct reason for her
distress. She certainly had given him a royal set-down. He hadn’t
much liked it, but in all fairness he supposed he had deserved
it.
    Somewhere in the city she was sleeping. That
thought conjured an enticing image alive with lush red curls
splayed on an ivory satin pillow.
    His breathing accelerated.
    Simon hadn’t lied when he told her he liked
her hair. He had, in fact, a partiality for redheads. Miss James
had an abundance of luxurious auburn tresses and fine-looking skin,
clear and unblemished. A fine straight nose and a full luscious
mouth accented a pair of the most incredible deep blue-green eyes
he had ever seen. And her body, well, what could he say? She was
made in the manner that pleased him most—slim, yet voluptuous.
    The top of her head came just to his nose,
and he could imagine placing his hand under her chin and lifting
that face to his so he might taste her lips. The very thought
caused him to groan inwardly.
    He had better get his baser self under
control, he thought, because she was beyond his reach. Odd that
should be because he was her social superior in every way. However,
she had made it very clear that that did not grant him any special
rights.
    Simon shook his head in exasperation. All
this confusion because a hot-tempered redhead with a pair of
remarkable blue eyes had taken him to task for his lack of good
manners. But she had left Mrs. Witherspoon’s earlier tonight
because of him. And he simply could not forget the hurt in that
shimmering gaze as she had turned to look at him across a noisy
room before disappearing through the front door.
    Some things were not meant to be, and no
amount of wishing could change that fact. At nearly thirty-four
years, he had obligations. To pursue this girl would be very wrong
as he could offer her nothing honorable. Therein lay the
difficulty, for he felt certain she would settle for nothing
less.
    Simon shrugged his shoulders as if with the
gesture he could brush off the entire evening. He straightened
himself and headed down the dimly lit walk swinging his cane,
forcing a whistle through stiff lips to enhance the carefree
effect.
     
    *****
     
    Cassandra tossed fitfully in the four-poster
bed, frustrated with her failure to sleep. She threw the coverlet
back and sat up. She had been at this for hours, and if rest were a
possibility it would have happened by now.
    She brought her feet to the floor and slid
them into a pair of well-worn slippers before standing and moving
to the window. Climbing onto the window seat, she wrapped her arms
around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. She leaned her
forehead against the cool pane of glass and idly watched the early
comings and the late goings of the few individuals who were now on
the street.
    Near dawn, just a hint of pink tinged the
horizon where the sun would soon make an appearance. If Cassandra
had not been beset by a tangle of unwelcome emotions, she would
have enjoyed the early morning peace. Instead, she was grappling
with insecurity and, as the pampered daughter of a very wealthy
man, the feeling was as unexpected as it was unpleasant.
    Not once in all her young life had she
questioned her position in society. Her father was a merchant and
she was a member of the middle class—not a bad place to be. Of
course, they did not have the privileges accorded