Free Emily Greenwood by A Little Night Mischief Page B

anything but temporary insanity!”
    He leaned his hips back against the railing and gave her a lazy look that made her blood boil in more than one way. “Take it from someone who has seen quite a bit more of the world than you, Felicity Wilcox. That was attraction. Deny it all you want. It won’t just disappear.”
    From below them came the sound of the library door opening.
    “Felicity? Collington?” Mr. Wilcox’s voice drifted up to them.
    Giving Mr. Collington a furious glare, she turned away from him and called out, “Here, Father,” in an uneven voice. She cleared her throat and, without a backward glance, rushed along the walkway calling, “Just finishing our tour of the balcony.”

Seven
    Felicity silently berated herself as the three of them walked toward the dining room. That had been a disaster. She needed to keep James Collington at arm’s length, not melt for him. She’d surrendered the minute he’d touched her—and loved every second of it, before she’d come to her senses. Insanity, she’d called it, and she knew it had been some kind of madness. She’d tasted desire once, three years ago, and had dismissed it as a pale substance easily avoided. But then, it hadn’t felt like that intense, impossible-to-resist urge that had overwhelmed her in the balcony.
    Obviously she’d lied when she’d said she wasn’t attracted to him. He drew her. Some deep part of her had consented to be captivated by him on the walkway. And why should she be surprised? He’d ridden into her life on a white horse and been her gallant, playful rescuer, the sort of thing of which every young woman dreams while knowing it won’t ever happen. But he had come along, handsome as the devil, and done something to her—it was as if he had lit a candle inside her that she could not blow out.
    But she’d find a way to extinguish this flame. She’d managed these last three years to simply forget about men, about attraction and companionship. And marriage. And babies.
    A sob started low in her chest and she pushed it down, hard. What on earth was wrong with her lately? She’d been fine all these years, not thinking about any of what she’d given up. The choice for a family of her own was not for her anymore. Tethering had been her choice—and her reward. And she wasn’t going to let this man take it away from her.
    Thank heaven she had a plan. While it was perhaps a little daft, it just might be the way to make Tethering a place James Collington wouldn’t be able to stand.
    They took their seats at the table. She and her father sat next to each other, across from Collington. Felicity hated like anything to admit it, but the dining room looked handsome. Their old table had been thoroughly polished and was now gleaming richly in the glow of a generous number of beeswax candles, and a handsome centerpiece of fruits and flowers gave the table an air of plenty it hadn’t had for years.
    But Mr. Collington obviously hadn’t gotten to everything yet, she thought as she sat down and experienced the familiar wobble in her chair. She felt his eyes on her and looked up, steeling herself against any look that might claim intimacy. But his face was unreadable. She looked away.
    His servants began bringing around the food, some kind of steaming meat pie that practically made her eyes roll back in her head with its wonderful, rich scent.
    “A simple repast bought in town, I’m afraid. The household is in the process of acquiring a cook. But I trust that the Longwillow shops will not have let us down.”
    They had not, and every bite was heaven.
    She waited until about halfway through dinner, when there was a lull in the conversation, before setting her plan in motion.
    “Mr. Collington,” she began after taking a fortifying sip of wine, “surely you will want to know some of the fascinating history that goes along with Tethering Hall.” She smiled in what she hoped was a believably sincere manner.
    Her father looked at her