Free Love in Disguise by Nina Coombs Pykare

keep you from your work,” said he in a tone that evidenced no sorrow whatsoever, “but I believe we have some unfinished business to discuss.”
    Fancy felt herself coloring up. “I have already told you -” she began.
    But the Earl interrupted her. “I do not mean that business. Though I do not yet consider the matter closed. I mean the business of that creature you dignify with the name of dog.”
    “Oh!” Fancy fought to regain her composure. What an insufferable creature he was. Always so haughty and disdainful. And so often right!
    “I have already said that I will pay for any damages that Hercules has caused.”
    The Earl chuckled. “An admirable recovery. You have great stage presence. It would serve you well with an audience.”
    Fancy chose to ignore this. “Did my dog do any damage to your door?” she asked.
    The Earl shook his head. “To the best of my knowledge,” said he, “my door is intact. The damage to my nerves, however -”
    Fancy suddenly found herself breaking into laughter.
    Morgane eyed her quizzically.
    “I am sorry, milord, but you do not play the part at all well. Your nerves, if you have any, are undoubtedly made of iron. That anything should distress you seems to me quite unimaginable. You simply cannot play the nervous beau .”
    Since the Earl did not seem to take any of this amiss, Fancy continued. “You might make a rather good hero,” she mused, “but I believe that it is in the part of the villain that you would undoubtedly excel.” She rose, hoping that the Earl would do likewise.
    Fancy shifted nervously backward as the Earl rose suddenly to his feet and moved swiftly toward her. His eyes, when they met hers, were still cool and gray, but the scar had taken on that peculiar hue that marked his anger. “If I were you,” he said evenly, stopping less than a foot from her and holding her eyes with his, “I should be more careful what I said to a man of such vicious temper and villainous character as you believe me to have.”
    Fancy, her eyes locked in the grip of those gray ones, found herself trembling. He was so close and so powerful. And the drawing room door was closed. If he reached out for her, if he swept her into his arms, would she have time to cry out before his savage brutal kiss claimed her lips?
    She tried to tear her eyes away from his, but she was unable to do so. For long moments he kept her captive with that overpowering gaze. And then a cynical smile curved his thin lips. “No need to play the startled maiden,” he remarked sarcastically. “This evening I am not in the mood to play the villain. So you are safe - for the moment.”
    Fancy dropped her eyes in confusion. She had been foolish to antagonize the man. But she would not apologize.
    As she raised her eyes, he spoke again. “I must thank you for a very pleasant visit. Perhaps at some future date I shall be invited to return for a tour of the whole house. In the meantime I trust you will keep that door-wrecker under lock and key.”
    With that the Earl turned away and, bowing ironically, let himself out of the drawing room. Fancy could hear him in the hall, urbanely bidding Henry farewell. For long minutes after she heard the heavy door close behind him she stood unseeing, staring at one of the chiaroscuro paintings. Then she shook her head and spoke sharply to herself. The Earl of Morgane was no concern others. No concern at all. She would just keep Hercules at home and she would not see the Earl again.
    The thought sounded good, but as she picked up her script and began to review her lines, Fancy was aware of a feeling strangely like disappointment. It could not be disappointment, she told herself sternly. For she would not be at all unhappy should the Earl of Morgane never again bring his handsome self into her presence. And with that she again resumed her practice, determined to keep all further thoughts of his darkly handsome features from her mind.
     

Chapter Six
     
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