Seducing the Viscount Read Online Free PDF Page A

at ignoring her would pique her interest. Foolish when her interest was already dangerously captivated. “I believe Lord Norrington had them shipped from China.”
    He slowly straightened, his dark gaze running an intimate survey over her blue muslin gown that was modestly cut to reveal the barest hint of her small bosom. Only when Mercy was certain he had managed to memorize every line of her body did he lift his gaze to offer her that wicked, potent smile.
    â€œI prefer the wild daisies that grow in the south meadow. They have a charming habit of luring wood sprites into their midst.”
    She gave a rueful shake of her head. “Good heavens, do you never halt?”
    â€œNot until I am in my grave.” He waved a slender hand toward the heavy sideboard. “Can I offer you a sherry?”
    With an effort, she kept her own gaze from straying toward his hard, elegant body that was encased in a smooth champagne jacket and ivory satin waistcoat.
    â€œThank you, no.”
    â€œI assure you that I did not slip down here early so that I could poison my father’s spirits.” His smile twisted. “And even if I did, it would not be the sherry.”
    He did not need to say that it would have been his father’s brandy. It was written in his mocking expression.
    â€œI do not partake of any spirits.”
    â€œOf course.” Folding his arms over his chest, Ian leaned against the satin-paneled wall. “I forgot you were the dutiful daughter of a vicar.”
    â€œI do not drink spirits because I do not care for the taste,” she corrected.
    The humor in his eyes deepened at the reprimand in her voice. “Ah. And do you also dislike the taste of tea?”
    â€œI like tea very well.”
    â€œThen why, I wonder, did you so assiduously avoid sharing a pot with my aunt this afternoon?”
    She smoothed her hands down her skirts, not about to reveal she had needed time to gather her thoughts. The man was smug enough without realizing he had managed to captivate yet another poor maiden with nothing more than a smile.
    â€œI realized that Ella would be anxious to speak with you in private,” she said calmly. “She adores you.”
    â€œI am fairly fond of her myself.”
    â€œAre you?” Mercy gave a lift of her brows. “You disguise it well.”
    There was a sharp pause before Ian tilted back his head to give a short laugh.
    â€œThe devil take you.”
    â€œWhat?”
    He reached out to grasp her chin between his thumb and forefinger, gazing deep into her suddenly wide eyes.
    â€œYou have an uncanny ability to insult a poor bloke with the voice of an angel. I do not know whether to be annoyed or bewitched.”
    Her breath threatened to lodge in her throat as the heat of his touch speared directly to the pit of her stomach. He was so close. Close enough she could catch the scent of sandlewood warming on his skin. It wrapped about her with seductive force.
    With a deliberate motion she took a step back. No woman could possibly think clearly when her heart was fluttering like a caged bird.
    â€œI have come to care a great deal for Ella,” she managed to retort, her voice surprisingly steady.
    â€œAnd that gives you the right to chastise her beloved nephew?”
    She shrugged. “Of course not. I am merely a guest in your home.”
    â€œBut I notice that does not halt you.”
    Absently she reached out to stroke her finger over one of the vibrant rose blooms.
    â€œI believe someone should inform you how your aunt longs to be a part of your life.”
    â€œShe has just assured me that she has an entire legion of spies to keep her apprised of my every movement.”
    â€œThat is not the same as having your company.”
    He muttered a low curse as his brows drew together in an annoyed frown. “Not that I need explain myself to you, Miss Simpson, but I do not like Rosehill.”
    She smiled wryly. “Yes, I had