Free Larken by S.G. Rogers Page B

she was pleased with the way the tight basque bodice accentuated her tiny waist and the color flattered her skin. Nell tucked a jeweled comb into her smooth twist for an elegant look. Although Larken was pleased with her toilette, she thought it was a shame her gown would be wasted on Brandon.
    Myles was clad in a sailor suit, and Larken smiled with pleasure at his smart appearance. In turn, his expression of delight at her dress made her heart sing.
    “You’re so pretty!”
    “Thank you, young sir. And you look like a young gentleman! Are you ready to go downstairs?”
    He bowed and offered her his arm with all the solemnity of a man four times his age. When they entered the drawing room together, Brandon had not yet arrived. While they waited, Myles tested the seat cushions on the sofa.
    “Remember your manners,” Larken said.
    He stopped bouncing. Larken poured two small glasses of sherry at the sideboard and took a tentative sip. The sweet wine didn’t taste nearly as bad as she remembered, and gave her a pleasant, relaxing glow. She was pouring herself a second glass when an impeccably-clad Brandon arrived. The wine did little to blunt her sudden breathlessness.
    “You look just like Lord Apollo!” Myles exclaimed.
    “Nothing quite so lofty, I’m sure,” Brandon said. “I’m sorry if I’m late.”
    “Not at all.” Larken curtsied. “May I offer you some sherry?”
    She plucked the waiting glass off the tray and delivered it into his hands.
    “Why…thank you,” he said. “Very considerate of you.”
    “May I have some?” Myles asked.
    “No.” Brandon and Larken spoke at the same time.
    “You wouldn’t like it,” she added.
    “How was your dancing lesson?” Brandon asked.
    “Lord Rowe says I’m making great progress.”
    “He’s funny,” Myles said. “He tells jokes.”
    Larken laughed. “Yes, he and his sister are charming. They never fail to send their regards to you.”
    “When are they to be here next?”
    “Tomorrow afternoon.”
    “Perhaps I’ll stop by. I’ve always enjoyed their company.”
    His attention turned to Myles, and Larken managed to take a deep breath. Would she always feel so tightly wound up when her husband was near?

Chapter Seven
    Throwing Down the Gauntlet
    B RANDON W AS R ELIEVED that Myles’ presence gave him somewhere to focus other than Larken’s bodice. Unfortunately, his blood had already been stirred and it was all he could do to behave normally. She’d been rendered even more stunning by the color of her gown, which was absolutely bewitching. It was his own fault, of course, for urging her to obtain a new wardrobe. Although in his mind’s eye he’d imagined her clad in something more matronly, she was young and to expect her to dress like his grandmother was unfair. Why on Earth had he invited her to dine when it was becoming increasingly clear she’d awakened a raging beast within him? Yes, he owed her the truth, but her proximity was lighting him on fire.
    Conversation at dinner centered mainly on Myles and how well he’d settled in at Graceling Hall. Larken offered her comments every so often, but she seemed content to have Brandon’s attention focused on the lad. Brandon tried not to stare at her, but his eyes had their own agenda. Fortunately, the meal was a good one and served to distract him admirably. By the time he’d eaten a piece of pound cake with custard sauce, he almost felt relaxed. Apparently so did the boy, since his eyelids could not stay open.
    “It’s grown quite late and I should take Myles upstairs.” Larken tucked her napkin beside her plate. “We’ll say good night then.”
    “No, I’d like you to stay awhile longer. I’ll ring for a servant to escort the lad to bed.”
    Myles waved good night sleepily on his way from the room. After the dishes were cleared, Brandon poured himself a snifter of brandy.
    “Myles is enjoying his riding lessons, but I’d like to develop a schedule for a few school lessons,”