Bewitched by His Kiss (May Day Mischief) Read Online Free PDF Page A

admitting that he might sometimes be in error.
    Impossible.
    “An open mind is always preferable to a closed one,” Elderwood said.
    Much as she wished to disagree with everything he said, Lucasta couldn’t deny that. Closed minds refused to believe she could do the same scholarly work as a man.
    “Just because one doesn’t believe in or understand all the forces about us, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
    From a strictly logical viewpoint, she couldn’t argue with that, either, but...
    “Perhaps not, but one can’t read a magical meaning into every circumstance,” Alexis said, and she smiled her relief. How kind of him to come to her rescue.
    Elderwood’s features hardened into dangerous implacability. “No, but life has taught me that if one cannot avoid the unusual—and I have never been able to do so—one must learn to live with it and work within its parameters. Otherwise, the consequences are disastrous.”
    The only “unusual” Lucasta had been unable to avoid was Lord Elderwood, but surely for a week or so she could put up with him. As far as possible, avoid him. And absolutely, positively blot out all lustful thoughts of him.
    She addressed herself to her dinner and did her best. She didn’t get much help from Alexis. Ever the gentleman, he did his duty with Peony, who seemed even shyer than usual—except, of course, when the topic moved to a discussion of magical creatures. Suddenly voluble, Peony babbled to Elderwood about a boggart which had supposedly resided at Whistleby. Lucasta kept her mouth shut, irritated beyond measure at the way the two of them encouraged one another. Alexis seemed annoyed, too. When Elderwood asked—so very condescendingly—if Lucasta had included the Whistleby boggart in her research, she snapped at him.
    He grinned at her. “A foolish question, I know. Your thoroughness is remarkable.”
    That smile sent a flush straight to her privates. His gaze made it clear he knew it. She wrenched her eyes away from his, forcing herself to take control. That couldn’t possibly be a compliment, so it must be a not-so-thinly-veiled insult. With difficulty, she recovered her composure and set out to bore him with every boggart story she knew.
    But...he didn’t seem bored. On the contrary, he proved as knowledgeable about boggarts as about buttery spirits. He asked pertinent questions and supplied the occasional tidbit that was new to her. If only he didn’t actually believe in these beings, they might get on very well.
    Visions of how well poured into her mind. Horrified, she slammed the floodgate shut, but it was too late; desire, powerful and insistent, heated her blood once again.
    Desperately, her hands shaking, she cut her stuffed sirloin into tiny pieces and stared at her plate as she chewed each one. It didn’t do the least bit of good. How could it, when he was sitting next to her, radiating lust and plotting who knew what? She must keep her distance at all costs.
    When the ladies finally left the gentlemen to their port, she excused herself to go to the necessary, but instead flew up the stairs to Lord Elderwood’s bedchamber, determined to find her muff pistol, the only thing that might force her into private conversation with him. Where would he hide it? Thank God he hadn’t brought a valet with him; that should give her a little leisure to search.
    The room smelled of him. How could that possibly be? He’d done nothing in there but change his clothing, but his masculine scent lingered, stirring her barely banked desires into flame. She stifled a moan. The atmosphere crackled with her awareness of him...his valise, his boots, his...bed.
    On the middle of the counterpane lay her little gun.
    She snatched it up, clutching it to her breast. He must have known she would come for it. Her heart thudded. Why hadn’t he hidden it? Oh, she had no idea how his mind worked; it was probably as convoluted as magic.
    What if he came after her, trapped her in here, threw