Betraying Season Read Online Free PDF Page B

have set the feminine hearts of London ablaze just by strolling through a ballroom and smiling that lazy white smile.
    “Miss Leland is here to further her studies, Niall,” Lady Keating interjected. “She is staying with her former governess, who has married Dr. Carrighar’s son.”
    Niall’s eyebrows rose. “You’re a scholar? How interesting. But London’s loss is our gain. Dr. Carrighar has a fearsome reputation as St. Kilda’s most carnivorous tutor. I hope he doesn’t chew you up as well.”
    “He hasn’t yet, though I have noticed the occasional smear of blood in his study after a tutorial. But only one or two of his scholars have required medical assistance while I’ve been there,” Pen said, and felt faintly dizzy when Niall flashed a grin at her.
    “Perhaps he draws his teeth for bouts with you, Miss Leland, lest the battle be too unequal,” Doireann said with a sugary smile.
    Pen pretended to consider this. “No, I don’t think so. Though petticoats might provide some protection, I like to think that it is my own bite that has kept me unscathed so far.”
    “I might venture to guess that you can give as good as you get, Miss Leland,” Niall added, a note of laughter in his voice.
    “Within the bounds of maidenly propriety, of course,” she replied. Oh, this was fun! She hadn’t been able to dance verbally with anyone like this since she’d left Persy behind at home. And the admiration she saw in Niall’s eyes made it even sweeter.
    But she was suddenly aware of a shift around the table, as if the air had somehow changed. She looked up and saw Doireann glance at her mother with a sardonic lift to her eyebrows. Lady Keating frowned at her daughter, then bent forward and placed her hand on the teapot.
    “Please ring for the maid, Doireann,” she commanded. “The tea has gone cold.”
    Niall leaned a little closer to Pen. “That’s not all that has,” he murmured out the corner of his mouth as he reached past her for a cake.
    “Shh,” she whispered back, but it was hard not to laugh at his conspiratorial wink.
    “What was that?” Doireann asked sharply, half risen from her chair.
    “I was just commenting to Miss Leland that we seem to have gone back to winter with this cold wind,” he said blandly, straightening and biting into a pastry.
    “It did seem to go right through my cloak today,” Pen agreed, matching his tone. She tried not to meet his eyes, lest she giggle.
    “It’s an oceanic wind here, Miss Leland,” Lady Keating explained.“London modistes don’t know how to defeat it. I must bring you to mine so that you can order an Irish cloak. We can’t have you freeze.”
    Doireann returned to her seat. “Miss Leland would look quite handsome in one,” she observed. Pen remembered the lions, amiable one minute and snarling the next.
    Then the maid came in, bringing a fresh pot of hot tea, and conversation returned once more to conventional lines. Except now Pen was even more aware of Niall Keating next to her, as if he had bound her to him with that quick wink and their shared humor. She felt his eyes on her through the rest of that visit, his regard almost as tangible as the Irish cloaks Lady Keating had spoken of; she was warmed, rather than alarmed, by his attention. When she stole glances at him, he was sitting back in his chair, stroking his curling side-whiskers absentmindedly as he watched her, the way one would pet a cat. It was an endearing gesture.
    Perhaps too endearing. This was
not
why she had come to Ireland. She needed to keep her mind off handsome Irish men and on Irish magic.
    But it wasn’t just his looks. It was the expression in his eyes that made her feel as if they already knew each other very well. She got the feeling that if they were to sit there without speaking, even their silence would be companionable.
    A friend. She missed Persy and her chuckleheaded brother, and she was looking for friends. She had rather hoped Doireann could become a