Free Carnal Pleasures by Blaise Kilgallen Page A

matter? It was still nice to hear it. And she was attracted to him.
    Dulcie knew how unappetizing she looked in her dowdy gown, with its unfashionable color and style. She was naive, perhaps, but it was exciting to fantasize, hearing his flattering compliments.
    “Umm, yes, I believe there is a painting of my mother hanging in the gallery. It was ordered when she and my father were first married. I never saw it before today, because I was never in this house before.” She paused. “My mother was handsome in her own way, but as you can see, I’m not a bit like her.”
    “Of course, you are, my lady. I find brown eyes like yours are quite friendly, even intriguing. I noticed that much behind your lenses. Dare I hope that you will take my word for it, Lady Dulcina?” he asked.
    Take my word for it. A different innuendo played through Dulcie’s brain. She recalled her stepmother wrote those same words in her summoning letter.
    “I usually don’t stoop to flattery,” Griff said, mentally crossing his fingers. “I speak only the truth, milady, and I declare that you are pretty.”
    What if the girl was almost as plain as a mushroom, he thought. Her face was piquant, with a childish innocence about her. A sprinkle of freckles that he missed last evening spread over her golden cheeks. Her hair was a run-of-the-mill brown shade. Someone should fix it for her, because right now it was twisted into an unflattering bun, every strand tucked behind her ears. It certainly didn’t flatter or soften her profile.
    What if he were lying through his teeth? The girl looked dowdy in that mustard-colored dress. It hung on her like a sack and certainly couldn’t do her figure justice. The clumpy footwear he spotted beneath her hemline would suit a soldier slogging through the mud in Spain. If he really tried hard, he might recount additional female enticements, but he needed to sound sincere if he were to cozen her. It wasn’t wise to simply depend upon flowery, physical flattery alone.
    The countess had described the girl as countrified, and Griff believed she told the truth. So much so, that Lady Dulcina’s candor was absolutely new and refreshing. He waited to hear what next would come out of her lips. It was no wonder she never heard a compliment from a man in her life, true or false. It struck him suddenly that she knew he was telling tales. She wasn’t dim-witted. Her intelligence told him she chewed on what was said, added a pinch of salt to what she swallowed, and was wise enough not to be taken in by spurious falsehoods.
    Griff sucked in a measure of truthfulness. He would bolster her ego, and she would fall into his seductive clutches within the countess’s expressed timetable.
    “Please, Lady Dulcina, I hope you don’t think me a wordsmith who speaks only to hear himself talk,” Griff coaxed, keeping his own thoughts under wraps.
    “Thank you, Mr. Spencer, you’re very kind.” She smiled. “And perhaps, short-sighted, like myself.” Then she giggled, unconsciously nudging her gold-rimmed spectacles up on her pert nose.
    He warmed to the musical sound of her giggles, so he chuckled with her. “No, not at all. I see what is in front of me quite clearly.”
    Quite abruptly, he asked, raising a finger, “Do you need those spectacles?”
    Dulcie quickly removed them. “Oh my! I expect I forgot they were perched on my nose. But they do help a bit.” She folded the earpieces and shoved the spectacles into a pocket of her gown. “I confess I am a bit short-sighted.”
    Her honesty made him chuckle. Glancing behind her, Griff changed the topic. “Where is your dog, Lady Dulcina? I heard you say he never left your side.”
    “Simon? He finished his morning outing and is snoozing in my chamber. Later, I will turn him loose in the house when the countess leaves. He will soon be comfortable in these surroundings.”
    “Ah, yes, well, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I believe I spied two felines strolling down the