Secret Valentine Read Free Page A

had two daughters of marriageable age, he supposed
she was no more interested in exchanging small talk with his future
wife than Cecelia was interested in being social.
    When he finally located her, she had a book
open and was studiously engrossed, not just pretending this time.
He looked over her shoulder and read the most syrupy love poem he'd
ever seen. He felt like gagging as he read An Ode to a
Fine Pair of Blue Eyes . Was this what Cecelia
wanted?
    He studied her short hairs just below the
edge of her bonnet. The curve of her neck enchanted him. He wanted
to lean forward and press a kiss there, or wrap his bare palm
around her nape and feel the fragile feminine arch of her neck.
    Good Lord, she was a woman and, perhaps in
spite of all her practicality, she wanted to be wooed, persuaded of
the violence of his affections.
    Trouble was, he rarely bothered to feel
violently about anything.
    The most excess of emotion he had felt lately
was when she called the corn laws, which he had voted to pass last
session, "A foolish blunder of overprivileged landowners doomed to
cause no end of trouble." That he'd come to the conclusion she was
right hadn't made him any less angry.
    "Find what you wanted?"
    With a start, she snapped the book shut and
hid it behind her back as she spun around to face him.
    He watched her struggle to drop the
impervious mask over her face. A welling of tenderness crept under
his breastbone. "Love poems, Cecelia?"
    She dropped her arms to her sides, one hand
clutching the slim collection of poetry. "'Tis the season."
    Absurdly a Christmas carol played in his
head, but Boxing Day had passed already. And while they were done
with January, it was still a long way from April and May. His
confusion must have shown on his face.
    "Saint Valentine's Day is coming soon," she
said.
    He had completely forgotten about the lover's
holiday. He put his arms behind his back and said inanely, "That it
is."
    She rolled her eyes. "I have several more
stops I need to make."
    "Shall we move on then? Give me your book;
I'll take it to the counter."
    "I can buy—"
    "Don't be absurd, Cecelia. You're my
ward."
    "—them."
    She picked up her spectacles from the top of
the stack of books on the shelf beside her put them on her nose.
Then she handed him the stack. Her expression was a cross between
belligerence and embarrassment.
    He couldn't help but grin at her. She snorted
and moved past him toward the counter.
    He read the titles as the charges were added. Verses of Love. A Collection of Love Sonnets. He couldn't
wait to get out of the shop and put the books into his footman's
hands. It was too much to hope that the man couldn't read. What had
happened to his sensible, practical, unemotional ward?
    They stopped at a perfumer where Cecelia
bought scented ink. They stopped at a milliner shop where she
picked out several lengths of patent lace and a slew of delicate
ribbons. She bought several slips of foolscap and the thinnest
pasteboard they carried at another shop. He stewed about how to
convince her to marry him.
    They stopped in front of another store, an
emporium this time, and Cecelia swung around to face him. "Would
you wait for me out here?"
    The window contained a display of ornate
cards. Let your sweetheart know with a Valentine card read the banner draped above the display.
    "By all means." He gave a slight bow. "I'll
just look at these silly fripperies"—he gestured toward the
window—"while you make your purchases."
    Cecelia blanched white and then blushed
furiously. She ducked her head down before she entered the
store.
    Whatever she needed to purchase in there, she might consider more embarrassing than all the volumes of
love poetry he had paid for at Hatchards. He doubted it. He stared
at the cards decorated with lace and loveknots, and a plan began to
form.
    * * *
    Inside Hartley's emporium Cecelia kept her
body between her satchel and the front window as she removed a
bound parcel and handed it across the