A Summer Seduction Read Online Free PDF Page B

him. It was not an expression he was accustomed to, as it seemed that women were more given to viewinghim either nervously or greedily or, often, a combination of the two.
    Genevieve’s presence in the conversation had not helped, of course, for he had been well aware that his sister was observing him keenly. It was useless to think he could get anything past Genevieve, who knew him better than anyone. Not, of course, that there was anything he really wished to hide from her… yet he could not help but think, every time he thought about Mrs. Howard, that he really did not want the rest of the world to know how he felt. Indeed, he had the suspicion that he would prefer that even he didn’t know how he felt.
    And that was a perfectly idiotic notion. Of course, it was no more idiotic than the vague, eager, twitchy sensations that rose up in him whenever he was around Damaris—as if he were a schoolboy again! He had never been the most socially adept man—and he counted it his good fortune that his reticence was invariably put down to arrogance rather than awkwardness—but it had been years since he had felt as uncomfortable as he did when talking to Mrs. Howard. Yet as soon as he saw her, he had been plotting to run into her between acts.
    There was no question of speaking with her again after the second act, something that would be sure to cause talk. But he was not inclined to let his grandmother quiz him more about Damaris, either, so as soon as the curtain dropped again, he was on his feet, offering to bring the ladies back refreshments. By the time he returned, their box was obligingly full of visitors, two of whom were thrilled when he invited them to stayfor the third act as well. By no twitch of her expression did his grandmother indicate the slightest surprise at his saddling them with her dead sister’s friend and that woman’s emptyheaded daughter, but Alec saw the sharp glance Genevieve threw him, and he knew that he had only put off the inevitable.
    He was prepared, then, for the countess’s fixing him with her ruthless gaze the moment they left the theater and were safely settled in their carriage, away from prying eyes and ears.
    “You did not answer my question, Alec. Who is this Mrs. Howard? Why have I never heard of her?”
    “I could not say, Grandmother. She is a widow, and I believe she lives a rather retired life.”
    Lady Rawdon made a noncommittal noise. “Rather young and attractive, I would say, to have retired from life.”
    “Perhaps grief overcame her.”
    “She does not appear to be in mourning.”
    “Grandmother.” He looked at her evenly. “I do not know the woman well enough to answer your questions.”
    “Yet you know her well enough to invite her to our party.” She smiled faintly. “She is quite lovely, of course. But then, no one can accuse you of bad taste.”
    “I fail to see what my taste has to do with it.” Rawdon’s cool gaze would have intimidated a lesser creature than the countess. “I merely invited Lady Morecombe’s friend to your ball. She is here for a short visit; I doubt she knows many people in London.”
    Lady Rawdon narrowed her gaze. “You expect me to believe that you extended an invitation—the first time youhave asked anyone to one of our parties, by the way—simply to be nice to one of Lord Morecombe’s wife’s rustic friends?”
    Amusement lit Alec’s eyes. “‘Rustic friends’? I assure you, Mrs. Howard does not have bits of hay clinging to her hair, Grandmother. Most of the people I met in Chesley were quite civilized.”
    “Chesley.” The countess dismissed the village with a scornful flick of her hand. “Do not attempt to throw sand in my eyes, Alec. The point is: What do you know about this woman? Where does she come from—and do not say the Cotswolds; I am well aware of where Chesley is. What I want to know is, who are her people?”
    “I am sorry, but I did not think to interrogate Lady Morecombe about her friend’s