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eyes flashed with nervous challenge, her firm chin tilted defiantly, and her rebellious curls twisted in whatever direction they liked.
    She might be an impoverished Latin tutor, but her attitude was that of a duchess.
    Or a countess?
    Good God, where had that thought come from?
    Her eyes met his, and she flushed a bright red before looking away.
    Lust exploded in his gut.
    Bloody hell. Perhaps it was time he put away his Latin texts to study the needs of his body.

Chapter 4
    Jo wanted to hit something, preferably this beautiful raven-haired woman who, like a fox sensing an easy kill, had almost run to her, her equally unpleasant companion close behind, the moment Jo had entered the blue parlor. They’d introduced themselves as Lady Noughton and Lady Chutley.
    â€œWhat an interesting frock, Miss Atworthy,” Lady Noughton said now, derision clear in her voice. “Wherever did you get it?”
    Was she hoping Jo would say she’d made it herself? “From Mrs. Wiggins, our local dressmaker.”
    â€œYou know, I think I once had a gown that was just that shade,” Lady Chutley said. “It was a very popular color four or five years ago, wasn’t it?”
    More than likely, since that was when Jo’d had the dress made. She forced a smile. “Was it? I’m afraid I don’t follow the fashion magazines.”
    Lady Noughton tittered. “That’s rather obvious, isn’t it?”
    Both women tried—not very hard—to choke back laughter.
    â€œWhat’s so amusing, Maria?”
    Jo glanced over to see who had spoken. An attractive man with shaggy, sun-streaked hair was approaching—with Lord Kenderly at his side.
    Damn. She felt her cheeks flush again. She looked back at Lady Noughton. Perhaps Lord Kenderly would assume her heightened color was due to anger.
    â€œOh, Stephen, Blanche and I were just making Miss Atworthy’s acquaintance. She is so refreshing—but then, provincials often are, aren’t they?” Lady Noughton laughed. “I venture to guess she’s never been to London.” She glanced at Jo. “Am I right, Miss Atworthy?”
    â€œYes, I’ve not had that pleasure.” Jo tried to relax her jaw so it wouldn’t sound like she was speaking through clenched teeth.
    â€œThen you will have to visit someday, Miss Atworthy,” Lord Kenderly said smoothly as if he couldn’t tell she wished to kick Lady Noughton in the shins. “If you can put up with the dirt and the noise, London has much to recommend it.” The corners of his eyes crinkled in a very appealing fashion. “But I’m afraid my manners have gone begging. Let me make known to you my good friend Mr. Stephen Parker-Roth. I believe he would agree with you that the country is preferable to Town.”
    Mr. Parker-Roth had been frowning at Lady Noughton, which had put the old cat in a pout, Jo was happy to see. Now he smiled at Jo.
    â€œMost definitely. You show excellent sense, Miss Atworthy, in favoring the country.”
    â€œOh, Mr. Parker-Roth,” Lady Chutley said—Lady Noughton was apparently so disgruntled she could only glare—“you must admit society is so much more stimulating in London.”
    â€œOn the contrary, I find London society too often ‘full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.’”
    â€œOh, but Stephen—”
    They were saved from hearing what Lady Noughton had to say by Lord Greyham’s booming voice.
    â€œWelcome, everyone! Lady Greyham and I are delighted you could be here to celebrate our favorite holidays of love—”
    â€œAnd lust!” one of the men standing by the fireplace shouted. Licentiousness suddenly permeated the air. Everyone except Jo—and Lord Kenderly and Mr. Parker-Roth, thank God—cheered and clapped.
    â€œYou’ve heard about our little celebrations, have you, Felton?” Lord Greyham said.
    â€œFrom my brothers and their