Free Fair Juno by Stephanie Laurens Page B

carefully cloaked? Doing anything to damage the closeness she sensed between them was repugnant.
    Letting her gaze fall, she picked up her napkin, creasing the folds between her fingers. ‘I…really…’ Her words trailed away. How to explain what she felt?
    Martin smiled a little crookedly. He would have liked her to confide in him but the point was not worth disturbing her over. ‘You really feel you shouldn’t?’
    Helen threw him a grateful look. ‘It’s just that the adventure seems more…complete—and,’ she added, determined at least to have some of the truth, ‘my behaviour more excusable if I continue incognito.’
    Smiling more broadly, Martin inclined his head in acceptance. ‘Very well. But what should I call you?’
    With a gentle smile that, unbeknown to her, held an element of sweet shyness quite at odds with her years, Helen said, ‘You choose. I’m sure you can invent something appropriate.’
    Her smile very nearly overset Martin’s much tried control. He had thought it strengthened by the years, but fair Juno was temptation beyond any he had ever faced. Invent something? His mind was seething with invention, did she but know it. But, as knowledge of his thoughts would hardly be conducive to allowing her to continue with reasonable calm in his company, he could only be thankful that they did not show in his face.
    They did show in his eyes. Even with the table between them, Helen saw the smoke rise and cloud the grey. Stormyheat caressed her. Mesmerised, she sat and waited, breathless and trying to hide it. Heaven forbid that he ever realise how much he affected her!
    ‘Juno,’ Martin said, just managing to keep his voice within acceptable range. ‘Fair Juno.’ His smile was entirely beyond his control, laced with wicked thoughts and scandalous suggestion.
    Helen lifted one brow, trying to pour cold water on the flames she could feel flickering around them. ‘I hardly think, my lord, that such an allusion is appropriate.’
    His smile only gained in intensity. ‘On the contrary, my dear. I feel it entirely appropriate.’
    Helen tried to frown. Juno—queen of the goddesses. How could she argue with that?
    ‘And now, having settled our immediate future, I suggest we get on our way.’ Martin rose and stretched, letting languid grace cloak his haste. If he did not get out of here soon, and back to the relative safety of the curricle’s box seat, he would not answer for the consequences. Exposure to fair Juno was sapping all will to resist his rakish inclinations. And he had dinner with her, alone, to look forward to. He had need to recoup what strength he could.
    He went around the table and helped her to her feet. Tucking her small hand into the crook of his arm, he led her to the door. ‘Come, my lady. Your carriage awaits.’

Chapter Four
    T hey had chosen the Bells at Cholderton as their overnight stop. The small town nestled just south of the London road, the major traffic passing by without pause. The Bells was an old house, less frequented in these days of rapid travel but still in sufficiently good state to hold promise of a comfortable night.
    Shown into a private parlour, Helen glanced about at the faded elegance. She nodded in approval, her haughty demeanour supporting their fiction. Martin had told their story, his natural arrogance wiping out any possibility of disbelief. Lord and Lady Willesden required rooms for the night. The landlord found nothing amiss with the request; he was, in fact, only too pleased to see them.
    ‘My good wife will have your supper ready directly,m’lord. There’s duck and partridge, with lamb’s-foot jelly and a wine syllabub to follow.’
    Languidly superior, Martin nodded. ‘That should do admirably.’
    When the door closed behind the little man, Martin glanced her way, laughter lurking in his grey eyes. ‘Just so,’ he said, his smile warming her every bit as much as the fire in the grate.
    Feeling her nervousness increase as he drew