An Affair in Winter (Seasons Book 1)
Page 22
She laughed but swatted his chest. “Don’t tease.”
“But I like the sounds you make when I tease,” he whispered.
Her cheeks flamed and the hand swatting his chest curled instead to stroke there. “So do I, but you are changing the subject.”
He grunted in displeasure. “I was trying to, but you are too smart. If you are asking if Stenfax has seen Elise, it seems he has not.”
Rosalinde nodded. “It isn’t surprising. Lady Kirkford will be in mourning until the fall probably. By then, Stenfax may retreat back to Caraway Court, or maybe he’ll even be courting a new love.”
Gray’s lips remained thin, and she knew that he didn’t believe her. She didn’t really believe that either. But she couldn’t change what Stenfax would do, nor could her husband.
So she slid into his arms, smiling up at him in comfort.
“Are you worried?” she whispered.
He stared at her a long moment and the tension bled away from his face. He smiled down at her, his eyes glowing with love and passion and all the things that made him the only home she’d ever need.
“Worried?” he asked. “I have you. I couldn’t worry.”
Then he bent his head and kissed her, and all was right with her world.
Coming next from USA Today Bestselling Author Jess Michaels:
A wedding that cannot happen…
A man who is not what he seems…
A woman who betrayed for love…
And a couple who can never be.
It will all happen during one year of passionate Seasons. Turn the page to read an exclusive excerpt of Seasons book two - A Spring Deception, coming September 6, 2016.
Excerpt of
A Spring Deception
Seasons Book 2
Celia smiled as she looked out over the dance floor and watched Gray and Rosalinde swirl by in the crowd. Gray’s hand was firmly pressed into Rosalinde’s hip and their gazes were locked on each other, proof once again of their loving bond.
“She does look happy.”
Celia started and looked at the two young women who had stepped up beside her. She’d known Miss Tabitha Thornton and Lady Honora for as long as she could remember. They were old friends and ones who had stood staunchly beside her before, during and after her ill-fated engagement. She appreciated that beyond measure.
“She does,” Celia said, addressing Honora, for it was she who had made the statement. “She is. Lucky her.”
“Indeed, for Mr. Danford cuts a fine figure,” Tabitha sighed. “And I’ve heard he’s worth a fortune, even if father does turn up his nose that he made it by work and not inheritance.”
Celia shrugged. “I don’t care what he does to earn his keep, as long as he takes care of my sister. Which he does in spades.”
“So you don’t regret breaking your engagement to Stenfax at all?” Tabitha asked, curling a loose blonde lock around her finger.
Celia pursed her lips. Her friends had kindly danced around that subject since her return to London a week before, but here it was. She found herself searching through the ballroom and found the tall, stern figure of the Earl of Stenfax. He was talking to a few other men in a corner. He was very handsome, of course, but he had never moved her, nor had she moved him.
“I do not regret it,” she said and meant it. “Things have worked out exactly right.” She cleared her throat and looked around. The women who were not dancing were all gathered in clumps it seemed, and there was a crackling electricity in the air that made no sense to Celia. “Why is everyone so odd tonight?” she asked, hoping for a change in subject.
Honora grasped her arm in both hands, her face lighting up in excited pleasure. “You mean you haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?” Celia asked, shaking her head. “What is there to hear that would inspire that expression?”
Honora leaned in, as did Tabitha. “The Duke of Clairemont is making a return to Society tonight.”
Celia wrinkled her brow. “The Duke of Clairemont. I vaguely recognize the title, but why does that matter? We’ve a room full of stuffy old men as it is. One more duke is hardly any matter.”
“Oh my lord, she doesn’t know!” Tabitha squealed and now Celia was being held by both her arms, one for each friend. She rather hoped they didn’t try for a tug of war.
Honora all but bounced. “His Grace is not an old man,” she said, trying for a whisper but not really accomplishing it in her excitement. “He is barely above thirty and rich as Midas, himself!”
Tabitha tugged on Celia’s arm none too gently. “His father died a decade ago and he took the title, but since then he has been a recluse, hiding away in his country estate, Kinghill Castle. No one has seen him in years and years.”
“There are so many rumors about why he hid so long, Celia,” Honora continued, pulling her back to her side. “Some say he was scarred in an accident-”
“A fire!” Tabitha said. “I heard it was a fire.”
“Whatever it was.” Honora shrugged. “Or that he was driven mad over his father’s death.”
“Oh there are a dozen stories or more,” Tabitha said. “Whatever the truth is, everyone is agog over his return. He is quite the catch.”
“Despite being horribly disfigured or mad? Or both?” Celia asked mildly.
Honora let out a huff of breath. “He’s titled and rich, did you not hear that part?”
Celia held back a sigh. She hated to be mercenary, especially after all she’d gone through breaking her engagement to Stenfax, but the idea of this duke’s title did appeal to her. Since Gray had had little luck in finding out her father’s identity, she couldn’t help but wonder if her grandfather might consider honoring his original bargain with her.
Marry a title to satisfy him and receive the information that was so well-hidden. Oh, Rosalinde would hate that. She wouldn’t want Celia anywhere near the old man.
But Rosalinde didn’t need the truth as much as Celia felt she did. It didn’t eat at her at night, it didn’t haunt her every time she looked in the mirror and wondered if she had her father’s nose or chin.
“Are you well, my dear?” Tabitha asked, tilting her head to get a closer look at Celia. “You have gotten very pale.”
Celia shook her head. These were not thoughts she should entertain. Likely when this mysterious duke arrived he would not be interested in her at all. He would probably be a boring, fat aristocrat who already knew exactly what family he would merge with his own. There was no use getting one’s hopes up over a mirage.
“I’m fine, I was wool gathering,” she said with a smile to reassure her friends.
Tabitha didn’t look certain, but before she could follow up with more questions or concerns, the crowd in the room began to titter and shift. It seemed everyone in the room turned toward the door at once as the servant there made some muffled announcement.
Celia turned with them, lifting on her tiptoes to see who had caused the commotion.
“It must be him,” Honora breathed, her hand coming up to fluff her hair. “It must be!”
Celia supposed her friend must be correct, for this mysterious duke was the only new addition to Society that would cause such a stir. The crowd began to part, splitting apart like a torn seam and then the few people before her stepped aside and she caught her breath.
An impeccably dressed man now stood not three feet from her. And he was utterly beautiful with dark blond hair and steely gray eyes that swept over the room. He had an angled face with a strong jaw and a slightly imperfect nose, like he had broken it at some point during his life. But the imperfection only made the rest of his face that much more striking.
He shifted slightly, revealing some discomfort on his handsome face. And something else, too. Sadness. There was a sadness in his eyes that spoke to Celia in a visceral and immediate way.
“That’s him?” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off of him. Tabitha and Honora nodded
mutely. “He certainly isn’t scarred.”
“Or fat,” Honora added. “Or hideous.”
“No,” Celia whispered as he turned away and smiled as their host and hostess, the Marquis and Marchioness Harrington rushed to greet their coup of a guest. He was led off into the crowd and suddenly it felt like the air had been let back into the room. Celia sucked in a gulp of it with a shiver.
She had never had such a strong reaction to a stranger before. A man. It was like her whole body was tingling and her heart pounded so loudly in her ears that the rest of the sounds in the room were muffled by the rush of blood.
“I think he’ll be even more of a catch now that we’ve all seen him,” Tabitha said with a sigh. “Some lucky girl will land him before the summer, I can almost guarantee it!”
Celia blinked as those words sank in. Of course that was true. The mamas would swarm on their newcomer before he could settle in for five minutes and he would be the focus of their manipulations until someone had landed him.
Someone who would almost certainly not be Celia Fitzgilbert. She turned away from where the duke had stood and took a few more deep breaths. It was foolish to be swept away by the appearance of a handsome face. And if she were smart, she’d just forget about the man.
Only she didn’t think that would be so easy to do.
Other Books by
Jess Michaels
The Wicked Woodleys
Forbidden (Book 1)
Deceived (Book 2)
Tempted (Book 3)
Ruined (Book 4)
Seduced (Book 5)
The Notorious Flynns
The Other Duke (Book 1)
The Scoundrel’s Lover (Book 2)
The Widow Wager (Book 3)
No Gentleman for Georgina (Book 4)
A Marquis for Mary (Book 5)
The Ladies Book of Pleasures
A Matter of Sin
A Moment of Passion
A Measure of Deceit
The Pleasure Wars Series
Taken By the Duke
Pleasuring The Lady
Beauty and the Earl
Beautiful Distraction
Mistress Matchmaker Series
An Introduction to Pleasure
For Desire Alone
Her Perfect Match
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About the Author
Jess Michaels writes erotic historical romance from her home in Tucson, AZ with her husband and one adorable kitty cat. She has written over 60 books, enjoys long walks in the desert and once wrestled a bear over a piece of pie. One of these things is a lie.
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