Free A Lady's Lesson in Seduction by Barbara Monajem Page B

her prattling cousin Almeria, her head ached abominably. She longed for warmth, quiet and solitude, and the only way to get it was to go indoors, brave the Marquis of Warbury, and ask to be conducted speedily to her bedchamber.
    Instead she remained outdoors, peering at the inscription above the door.
    It was just so awkward visiting Warbury House. The marquis had called on her in London three times right after Timothy’s fatal accident, and three times she’d had him turned away. It had been frightfully ill-mannered of her, but she’d been so sickened and angry that she couldn’t bring herself to see him. Not for his part in Timothy’s death, but because he and Timothy had been quarreling over a prostitute.
    She’d written to the marquis to reassure him that she didn’t hold him responsible for the curricle accident. Not only that, she’d told the world the same thing over and over—that racing whilst drunk was the sort of stupid thing young men did, and Timothy was entirely to blame. If that didn’t make up for her rudeness, there was no help for it.
    ‘Frances, I’m turning to ice in here.’ That was Almeria again.
    ‘In a moment,’ Frances said. Her head pounded wearily, and she frowned up at the inscription, trying to sound preoccupied while she gathered her courage. ‘ Secundum …that seems obvious, but…’
    Lord Warbury had made no attempt to speak to her again in the little over a year since Timothy’s death, so the invitation to the Christmas house party had come as a surprise. Only one explanation made sense—that Lord Warbury was romantically interested in Almeria Dane, the young, motherless cousin whom Frances now chaperoned.
    ‘The porter can’t keep the door open forever!’
    ‘Coming, Almeria.’ In her opinion, Almeria was too young and innocent for the rakish marquis, but she was a beautiful heiress, and society considered him an excellent catch. Whether she liked it or not, it was Frances’s duty to promote the match. She took a deep breath and—
    ‘Welcome, Mrs. Burdett, Miss Dane.’ The Marquis of Warbury’s voice made her shiver, and not from the cold. He had always had that strange effect on her, as if the warmth of his voice vibrated through her. He appeared in the doorway and came down the steps toward Frances. ‘It’s the family motto, or at least half of it.’ He turned and stood beside her, gazing up at the weathered stone. ‘ Secundum, Non Nocere . Translated, it says, Secondly, Do No Harm.’
    She pulled herself together. ‘That sounds typically motto-like—stern and idealistic. What is the first half?’
    His eyes lit suddenly, touched with mischief. It made something swell within her chest, something she didn’t understand. Relief? She’d been rather afraid he would bear a grudge because of her rudeness.
    ‘No one knows,’ he said. ‘My cousins and I used to make up the first part ourselves. Firstly, Eat Beans, and Secondly, Do No Harm.’
    A bubble of laughter escaped Frances, and Lord Warbury grinned down at her.
    Instinctively, she stiffened. Since her short, disastrous marriage, she avoided men with that sort of grin. Other women might enjoy succumbing to such rakish charm, but for Frances that would only lead to misery.
    Consternation erased the smile. ‘I beg your pardon—that’s not the sort of jest one repeats to a lady.’
    ‘I didn’t mind,’ she protested, instantly contrite. ‘It’s just the kind of thing my brothers would have delighted in.’ She didn’t wish to do away with his smile—merely its effect on her.
    Once she’d gotten over the shock of Timothy’s death, all she’d felt was relief. But she couldn’t say so, nor could she tell people that she’d hated marital relations. That she’d cried herself to sleep when Timothy had turned from her in scorn, saying she was a bore in bed, and had gone to some doxy instead.
    Judging by gossip, other women enjoyed carnal relations very much. That made Frances feel even more of a