Free An Unexpected Encounter ( Half Moon House, Novella 1) by Deb Marlowe Page B

I was a pugilist looking to challenge someone to a prize
fight. I swear, she examined my hands, searching for bloodied
knuckles.” He lifted a shoulder, a move eloquent in its dismissal.
“Sparsebrow,” he murmured. “I’d forgotten that.” He flicked his
fingers. “But that’s the ton for you. They have no more use
for me than I have for them.”
    “But you might have made a joke of it. You
could have set her at ease. She might have warmed to you.” She blew
out a breath. “Your cook is a bigger tyrant than Napoleon, yet I’ve
seen you charm her. You might have used some of that on the young
lady.”
    “Why?” His brows lowered, as if he genuinely
could not see her point.
    “So that she might look favorably on you? At
that garden party you could engage her again, take her for a walk
or for a row on the river.”
    “To what end?”
    Giving up on distance, she stepped closer.
Perhaps that would do the trick, allow her to drive her point home.
“To give someone the chance to get to know you!” She softened her
tone. “You’ve so much to give. You need only to let someone close
enough to see it.”
    His smile shone gently down over her. “You
are very kind to be concerned.” A breeze swept by, unsettling the
leaves in the little grove and brushing the dark lock of hair that
had once again fallen over his brow. At her side, her fingers
twitched. “But I forget that you are so young.”
    She raised her chin. “Age is irrelevant to
the conversation.”
    “Not really. All of this,” he waved toward
the departing Ashburns, “feels vitally important when you are
young, I know.”
    “I don’t think it’s important because I’m
young, sir. I think it’s important because it is. It isn’t a good
thing to withdraw from the world. Not for Aurelia, and not for
you.”
    “Something else you’ll learn with age, Miss
Moreton, is that it does no good to rail against what cannot be
changed. I’ve been out in Society, it did not go well.”
    “Perhaps you need to try again.”
    “Do you find me so pudding-hearted? I never
did give up easily and didn’t on this. When things did not go my
way in Town, I retired to our estate. I thought I might do better
with country society. At one of the local assemblies, I overheard
two young ladies discussing me. One wished to pursue me so she
could marry without having to endure a London Season. The other
scoffed and stated she would categorically avoid me—His Dullness, I
believe she called me—because she was afraid her father would
stumble upon the same idea and she would miss her
Season.”
    He hardened his gaze. “You’ll have to trust
my greater experience in this matter, Miss Moreton, and believe me
when I tell you that there is no point in trying to make up to Miss
Ashburn, or any other girl like her. My eyebrows have grown back,
but nothing else has changed. My clothes are still in constant
disarray. My hands are still stained and scorched. My head is
filled with equations of force and mass instead of the latest on
dit . My interests revolve around mechanics, lifts and clockwork
rather than racing, wenching and gaming.” He shook his head. “The ton and I have already been acquainted. We parted ways to
our mutual satisfaction.”
    He’d drawn nearer. She shifted nervously.
Perhaps he had a point to drive home too. She felt suddenly,
vibrantly aware of the dappled shade cooling the hot flush of her
skin and the sun burnishing his broad form with light. It made him
appear even larger and more intimidating. But she was listening
again, hearing all the things he didn’t say. She summoned strength
and spoke the truth. “You use all of that to push them away.”
    “It’s easier that way.”
    Her heart skipped.
    “And while we’re discussing contrasts, let me
share with you the very large one that I noted during that
exchange.”
    She had the sudden, certain feeling that this
was not a topic to which she’d wish to listen.
    Edmund stared.
    Her dress was fawn