Untamed Read Free Page B

must get closer.’ She pulled Lou away; Kit was certain they’d forgotten she even existed.
    Curiosity won, and Kit went up on her toes. She could just make out his head, moving through the centre of the room, his distinctive storm of dark hair obscuring most of his features. He wore collars so long and pointed they could cut, and his coat buttons were bright enough to pick out across the room.
    She landed back down on her heels.
    ‘Disappointed?’
    She started, and turned to the man beside her. ‘You are —’
    Oh, dear God, he was beautiful. A grave, pale face; eyes the deep, complex blue of an evening sky; thick black hair slicked back. He lounged against the wall beside her, wearing a plain black coat and trousers, a simple black cravat, small collars. He was the same height as she, his body lean and loose. She had seen grooms lean like that against a stable wall, but never a man drawn with such grace. He tilted his head, his eyes catching hers. They looked at each other without saying a word and then the corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘I am?’
    Her heart bloodied itself against her ribcage. She didn’t want to open her mouth and speak. She would come off badly, as she always did; she would be shown in all her unbelonging.
    He didn’t ease the silence between them. A violin rasped out one note over the conversation in the room, then the music struck up again.
    ‘I don’t dance,’ she said at last.
    ‘No, I heard you tell William as much.’
    ‘You were listening?’
    ‘With rapt attention. You have a unique style, Miss Sutherland. I have been trying to unravel it, so that I may understand it.’
    ‘Style of what?’
    ‘Breaking into a man. As far as I can tell you were honest at him until he gave in. Not a style I can readily emulate. Why don’t you dance?’
    ‘I can’t.’
    ‘Why can’t you dance?’
    How to even begin to answer this elegant, eloquent man, who wouldn’t understand even if she spelled it out plainly for him?
    ‘Mother wanted me to learn, but other things always needed my attention first.’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘Feeding the pigs,’ she said, throwing it at him because he unsettled her.
    He came upright off the wall, and for the first time his powerful self-possession was disturbed. ‘You are the sister of Lady BenRuin. Why do you feed pigs?’
    She just stopped herself from saying, Because they’re hungry . ‘I take an interest in the home farm. It’s not so unusual.’
    ‘No,’ he said after a moment, and settled back against the wall. ‘I suppose not. Can your mother dance?’
    ‘You shouldn’t ask me that.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Because it’s not —’
    ‘Polite?’ He laughed, and she wanted to put that laugh into the blue pot that sat on her dresser at home, and keep it forever.
    ‘I don’t care about polite. My mother’s none of your business.’
    ‘Then why did you mention her to me?’
    ‘You . . . eavesdropped on me. It threw me off.’
    ‘Did no one ever have the presence of mind to be rude back at you before?’ he said. ‘Ah, do not fight that smile. Your voice promises sunshine, you see. I thought at first it must be a false advertisement, but I have this curious feeling your smile will be a kind of sunrise.’
    He said the words with easy confidence, but the slight tilt of his lips told her he knew his own extravagance. His eyes told her nothing at all. They were unflinching on her face, and she felt each of her features as he snatched them from her. She covered her crooked nose, realising too late that in her haste she’d used her free left hand.
    He grabbed her hand, and held it close. Through the slide of her glove and his he explored the crooked joints of her two smallest fingers. She didn’t breathe.
    ‘What happened to your fingers?’ he murmured. ‘Was it the same fist that broke your nose?’
    ‘Excuse me.’
    ‘No, stay,’ he said. ‘Stay.’
    She hesitated.
    ‘Please,’ he said, and tripped over the word. It was like