woman is created for the enjoyment of men. How do you answer the charge of short-changing half the population?â
â I am not on this earth to pander to the whims of men, my lord.â Head back, eyes flashing, Lenore felt her temper take hold. âIndeed, Iâve discovered that by avoiding the complications engendered by the male of the species, it is tolerably easy to live a calm and well-ordered life.â
Eversleighâs eyes narrowed.
Abruptly realising that she had said too much, Lenore temporised, âThat isâ¦â
âNo.â The single syllable stopped her, drying her stumbling words at source. âI think I see the light.â
To her consternation, Eversleigh leaned closer, his narrowed eyes casting a silver net she could not escape. He loomed over her, around her; never in her life had she felt so helpless.
His eyes searched hers. âYou donât wish to marry.â The words were enunciated slowly, quietly, but were all the more definite for that. âYou hide your delights beneath heavy cambric and hope no one will see enough to be interested.â
Lenore wished she could shake her head but Eversleighâs compelling gaze prevented prevarication. She summoned a glare. âI see no reason why any man should be interested in me, Your Grace.â
The reaction to that was not what she had hoped. A slow smile twisted Eversleighâs lips. He shifted, bringing one large hand up to take a large pinch of her clothing, just above the yoke of her gown. Deliberately, he gave the material a brisk twitch, back and forth.
Lenoreâs shocked gasp filled the room. Her eyes flew wide at the excruciating sensation of her gown shifting over her tightened nipples. Horrified, she batted his hand away.
âPermit me to inform you, Miss Lester, that you have a severely proscribed understanding of the basis of male interest. I suggest you extend your studies before you come to any conclusions.â
âAs I have no intention of marrying, I have absolutely no interest in such topics, Your Grace!â
Her declaration focused Eversleighâs attention dramatically. His penetrating gaze bored into her eyes, his expression hardened. Flushed, Lenore held her own, but she could see nothing in the steel of his eyes to give her any clue to his thoughts.
Then, to her considerable relief, he straightened, his hands dropping to his side.
âMiss Lester, has it occurred to you that you have been much indulged?â
Lenore drew breath, determined to keep her chin up. âIndeed, Your Grace. My father and brothers are most supportive.â
âThey have been slack, Miss Lester.â Without warning, he caught her chin on the edge of one large hand, keeping her face turned up to his. The grey eyes once more roamed her features. Lenore could not breathe. His expression was stern, almost forbidding. âYour father and brothers have not done their duty by you. A woman of your intelligence and beauty is wasted outside marriage.â
âThat is not my opinion, Your Grace.â
âI am aware of that, my dear. We shall have to see what can be done to change it.â
Paralysed, Lenore stared up at him. Startled conjecture vied with a strange, breathless, senseless yearning, a panoply of thoughts and sensations buffeting her brain. She could think of nothing to say.
The door opened.
âOh! Excuse me, Miss Lenore, but Iâve come to do the menus.â
Twisting her chin from Eversleighâs grasp, Lenore peeked around him and saw her housekeeper, Mrs. Hobbs, standing uncertainly in the doorway. âErâ¦yes. Lord Eversleigh and I were just examining the lock of this cupboard. It was stuck.â With a warning glance at Eversleigh, Lenore turned towards her desk.
âAh, well,â said Mrs. Hobbs, ambling forward, a large bundle of old menus and receipts clutched to her ample bosom. âIâd better get John to take a look at it,
Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson