Free The Naked Prince by Sally Mackenzie Page A

just. “Lady Noughton and the baths. Meeting Mr. Parker-Roth?” He was looking over her shoulder again. “Oh, I’ll go with you. I’ll come by your room tonight at eleven-thirty.”
    â€œMy room?” He had an odd light in his eyes for a moment before he blinked and shook his head. “Right. So we can keep Maria from trapping Stephen.”
    â€œYes.” She would not feel disappointed that he didn’t wish to seduce her. She was a respectable spinster. “Of course.” She would not even peek in his bedchamber; she would merely knock on his door. “Er, which room is yours?”
    He was studying the activities in the morning room again. It took him a moment to reply. “Oh, yes, my room. Turn left when you come up the main stairs; mine is the last door on the right.”
    â€œVery well. I’ll come by promptly. We don’t wish to be late.” She looked down and noticed she still held the valentine she’d made. “Here.” She thrust the poor thing at him, distracting him once more from what was happening inside. She might as well give it to him, even though he’d likely throw it into the fire the first chance he got. “I’m afraid I’m not very talented with paper and paste.”
    He took it from her and smiled. “I’m not either, as you’ll see when I give you yours.” He reached for his pocket, and then realized she was wearing his coat. “Pardon me.”
    He slipped his hand inside his jacket, brushing against her breast by accident. She sucked in her breath. Damn! She hoped he hadn’t heard her.
    She saw the corner of his smile deepen. He’d heard.
    He slid a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her. “As you can see, a drunken monkey could make a better valentine than I.”
    â€œOh, surely not—” Jo looked down at the paper. The heart was rather lopsided, and the few bits of lace decorating it might indeed have been pasted on by an inebriated animal. “I imagine most men aren’t terribly skilled with such things. It’s the thought that counts.” She opened the card. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” it read, “K.”
    She felt disappointment—and then she laughed. It wasn’t as if they were lovers; they were barely acquaintances. “You might want to work on your technique, should you find a sweetheart,” she said, glancing up at him.
    He didn’t seem to hear her; he was staring down at her card, a very odd expression on his face. He looked shocked. Why? She certainly hadn’t written anything shocking.
    Perhaps it was the primitive nature of the card itself that disturbed him. Well, that was rather a case of the pot calling the kettle black, wasn’t it? Yes, women might be expected to have some artistic skills, but she didn’t have many of the skills most females had. And, really, the card wasn’t that bad. It looked rather good when compared to his effort.
    His face had gone from pale to red. Uh-oh. “I told you I wasn’t good with paper and paste.”
    He finally looked up. His eyes narrowed and then swept over her.
    She took a step back. “What’s the matter? I only wished you a happy Valentine’s Day—exactly what you wished me.”
    His jaw flexed as if he was clenching his teeth. He held her card out to her, jabbing his finger at her signature. He bit off each word. “ You are J.A.”
    â€œAh.” Oh dear. She’d been in such a hurry when she’d signed the card, she hadn’t thought. “Y-yes. My name is Josephine Atworthy.”
    A muscle in his cheek jumped. His lips pulled down; his nostrils flared as he drew in a deep, hopefully calming, breath. “You had my letter in the corridor upstairs because I was writing to you, not your father.”
    â€œEr, yes.” Jo tried to smile. “I hope that’s all right?”

Chapter