Master of Love Read Free Page B

and German philosophy with English science texts. Sir George must have shelved them quite haphazardly.” Truth be told, the task already daunted her.
    â€œWill it pose a problem for you?” that deep voice purred in her ear. Lord Rexton had left his guests to come up behind her. Before she could move away, he leaned closer to tuck in some wisps escaping her looped side braids. He ran his hand boldly down her neck, as if for good measure.
    â€œMy lord!” She jumped and barely kept herself from batting at the man’s hand. Whatever did he think he was about, taking such liberties! Her neck tingled with a trail of fire where he’d touched her. She risked a quick peek at him, but even that glimpse was enough to flood her senses with height and heat, spicy male scent, slashing cheekbones, that ridiculous golden curl, and a far-too-confident teasing smile. Goodness, this man made her nervous. She rubbed a hand against her neck to erase his touch. “There is no problem,” she said rather breathlessly, with far more conviction than she felt. “The task will merely take some time.”
    â€œWe can assign a footman to help with unpacking and sorting the books,” Mr. Danvers offered. There was something of a warning in the look he leveled at his employer.
    â€œThat won’t be necessary,” she replied, looking between the two men. “Billy can help with that part. He’s our . . . footboy.” She hesitated only a fraction of a second but felt nevertheless the sharpening of Lord Rexton’s gaze.
    â€œAnd where is this Billy now?” Rexton asked, raising one perfectly arched brow.
    â€œYour butler invited him down to the kitchens less than a half hour ago. He’d been working hard all morning and had unpacked quite a few trunks.” She hated the anxious note in her voice. Billy was certainly allowed a cup of tea, and she was allowed to permit him his rest. A pang of longing struck her for some measure of the professional confidence her father’s sterling credentials and experience had granted him. Actually, she desperately wished she could simply curl up at home with a good book and a pot of tea herself. But she needed this job. And her family’s finances dictated she must succeed at it.
    Her fingers clenched into her palms on a wave of painful pride. She’d do what she had to.
    She felt Lord Rexton’s eyes lingering on her and kept her own safely averted. He surprised her then by inquiring in a mild tone, “Will you join me and my guests for luncheon, Miss Higginbotham?”
    â€œOh no, thank you.” She drew a breath she hoped didn’t sound too shaky. Taking luncheon with the harpies was the last thing she wanted; they’d pick out her eyes before the meat course and make it seem they were only inquiring after her health. “I plan to dive right into my task. Perhaps I could take a tray here.”
    â€œIf you insist; however, I was hoping I could persuade you,” Rexton said. “I’d like to discuss the library collection with you.”
    She blinked, sufficiently taken aback to risk another glance at him. She hadn’t expected either to be dining with the viscount and his guests or that this quintessence of male splendor would care to talk seriously about his books. Either way, she didn’t seem to have a choice. “In that case, my lord, of course I should be happy to accept your invitation.”
    She noted Lady Barrington narrowed her eyes as she followed their conversation from across the room. Something displeased and proprietary in the lady’s gaze made Callista wonder whether this sophisticated widow was his current lover. But Lady Barrington said nothing, merely favoring her with another frosty smile.
    â€œUntil later then, Miss Higginbotham.” Rexton took Callista’s hand again and bowed over it. When he ran his fingers lightly across her palm before releasing it, she had to