The Seduction of Sarah Marks Read Free Page B

lids. “Pray, tell me more.”
    Those velvet-edged words may as well have been his fingers trailing over her tingling breasts and settling beneath her skirts. God help her if keeping her mind in the moment meant focusing on him.

Chapter Three
    When the flavor of beef and fresh vegetables stewed in herbs burst in Sarah’s mouth, a small moan escaped her lips, despite the impropriety. “Lord, thank the cook.”
    “And the innkeeper,” Eastleigh responded.
    They’d barely secured the last two rooms when the skies poured forth a deluge. She and Eastleigh sat at a table in the dining room, close to the fire. The warmth, the crackling of wood, comforted her amidst the raucous thunder. She’d already inspected her chamber, much to Eastleigh’s humor. How consoling to know hers was fit for a well-bred traveler. She was well-bred, wasn’t she? How otherwise would her sensibilities have been so knocked about?
    Eastleigh studied her with an odd demeanor. Her heart missed a beat. She dismissed the way her toes curled at his regard, or how the air fairly quivered between them.
    She shifted in her chair. “Will you dispense letters on my behalf when we arrive, Lord Eastleigh?”
    “Indeed.”
    “Will you leave no stone unturned?”
    That queer expression fell across his face again. “God knows, I am excruciatingly aware of your quandary, and I shall do all I can to help you find your place in the world.”
    An unidentifiable sensation wended through her. Strange the way he said that, as if his meaning went beyond his spoken words.
    She searched for another topic of conversation. “Do you seek a wife?”
    …
    “No.” God, that had been foremost in his mind when he’d set out on this journey. He’d fully expected to be gone three months, return from the Continent with a wife in hand, and surprise his meddling family, who’d constantly nagged him about his bachelorhood. After living alone on his estate with only a daft grandmother for company, lonely had become an understatement. But he’d needed time to heal from his war injuries, not to mention he could no longer tolerate the cacophony of London, or the shallow debutantes. Not after the brutalities of war. When he’d left home, he’d told no one but Hemphill of his plans to marry. Oh, wouldn’t the good doctor greet him with a relentless, “I told you so,” every time he looked his way? Just as Hemphill had foretold, Eastleigh was in no way ready to traipse all over the Continent.
    His thoughts returned to Sarah. Firelight danced across her petal-soft skin and cast golden glints in hair that framed her face like a halo. Lovely, she was. And he wanted her. Those beautiful eyes, bold and without guile, and that delicious, little mouth of hers parted, as if ripe for a kiss. She wet her lower lip with a slide of her tongue. He was going to have to bide his time, allow her to heal until hopefully, he could claim her as his in every sense of the word. Sweet Christ, now his loins ached. “Enough of this talking of me.”
    She set her fork to her plate. “Well, it wouldn’t be much of a discussion if we engaged in patter about me, now would it?”
    “Beg pardon.” If her situation weren’t so deplorable, he could have laughed at her acerbic remark. “I suppose we could speak of the weather.”
    “Indeed.” Her chin hiked. “Dreadful, isn’t it?”
    “Indeed.” A corner of his mouth twitched. “Now wasn’t that a long and worthy conversation?”
    Her lips pursed.
    “Why, madam, I do believe you fight a smile.” When she said nothing, he lifted a brow. “It wouldn’t hurt to let that grin take hold and see what comes of it. Providing you don’t think me impertinent for suggesting you do something so outrageous under such serious circumstances.”
    She paused, regarding him again in that comely, frank way with her lips barely parted. And then it was as if the world shifted. She smiled—not only with her mouth, but from her eyes and by the bare bend of her