Free Major Wyclyff's Campaign (A Lady's Lessons, Book 2) by Jade Lee Page A

movement. "You were an angel of mercy—"
    "And a paragon of virtue," she added dryly. "So build me a shrine and throw flowers on it. There is no need to twist yourself into a knot cleaning my aunt's silver."
    He did not move; his body gave no reaction. Yet deep inside, he felt a quickening, a stirring of emotion that only she seemed to inspire. No one else could lighten his soul as she did. Laughter rarely seemed to touch him, but around her—playing with her, arguing—he felt it inside, and that made him all the more determined to have its source in his life.
    "Come out of the butler's room, Major," she coaxed. "Perhaps we could sit in the parlor." He felt her hand, warm and life-giving on his arm, tugging at him. More than anything, he wanted to follow her. But he knew it was her first step in removing him from her life. She would take him from the closet to the parlor, and before he knew it, she would have him out the door riding back to London. Alone.
    He stood firm. "I am your butler," he said stiffly. "It is not my place to sit with you."
    "Oh, stow it, Major," she snapped. "You cannot seriously believe I developed a tendre for you in the hospital. You were one of hundreds with whom I spoke. What you are feeling is simple gratitude," she said firmly. "I accept your thanks. I tell you I enjoyed our conversations immensely, but that is hardly a reason to marry."
    He felt her every word like a knife cutting at him. It tore at his confidence and weighed him down. But he was a major of the Hussars, and so he lifted his gaze to hers, studying her expression more intimately than any battle plan. He knew every nuance of her face, every shift of her eyes and what each would mean.
    If she lied, he would know.
    "I was merely another patient to you?" he challenged, forcing her to say it to his face. "Another wounded soldier?"
    Her eyes flickered but did not slide away. "Yes."
    "You never gave me another moment's thought after you left my bedside?"
    Her jaw firmed, but, most telling of all, her breath nearly stopped. "Yes," she agreed.
    She was definitely lying. He sighed in relief, his expression finally relaxing into a near smile.
    She stood there dumbfounded. "Major?"
    "I waited for your visits," he said calmly. "Every day, I counted the seconds until you returned. And while I waited, I remembered. I recalled your every word, your every motion."
    She shook her head, clearly disturbed by the casualness with which he spoke of his obsession.
    "You were the one thing that kept me sane when there was nought else for me."
    "But—"
    "And do you know what all that taught me about you?" He tilted his head back, admiring the way the sunlight tinted her curls with flashes of red. His angel had fire in her, he thought, and he smiled in appreciation even as she stared at him as if he were mad.
    "You are a woman in motion. When you laugh or speak or smile, your body moves about. Your hands, your hair, even your eyes sparkle. It is as if you are dancing wherever you are."
    Her eyes grew wider with shock, flashing her irritation and dismay. "On the contrary, Major," she finally sputtered, "I am the Ice Queen, or so I was dubbed. I am the cold woman who froze her way through five Seasons in London."
    "Aye." He nodded. She had spoken of that many times. Even now, he could see pain in her expression whenever she mentioned that cruel label.
    "But—"
    "There is only one time when you freeze, Sophia. One thing that makes you inflexible, cold, and lifeless." He leaned forward as though confiding a secret. "Do you want to know what that is?"
    She stared at him, mesmerized, her breathing short and quick as he moved close enough to whisper into her curls.
    "When you are lying."
    She stiffened in outrage. "I never lie!"
    He grinned, suddenly pleased with himself and with her. Finally, an honest argument with the woman. He was determined not to let the opportunity pass.
    "On the contrary, Lady Sophia, your entire five Seasons in London were a lie. The