Page 19 of Once a Scoundrel

Good.Because she’d thoroughly rattledhim.

He hadn’t meant to confess his attraction for her, and he certainly hadn’t meant to kiss her like that or touch her likethat—although he found it difficult to regret holding her in his arms. Sweet Lucifer, how much he’d missed her! But now, there was more to her than just the innocent sweetness he remembered, because he’d tasted her desire for him.

If there had been any lingering doubts inside him that Faith wasn’t meant for him, her kisses had destroyed them all.

His long strides easily caught up with her shorter ones, made even more stunted because the mongrel at her heels kept getting under her feet in his determination to remain as close to her as possible. When he darted in front of her, she nearly tripped over him.

Stephen grabbed her arm to steady her, saying nothing when she yanked her arm away and kept right on stomping toward home, which now came into sight around a bend in the lane.

He tugged at his gloves to keep his hands busy so he wouldn’t make one last attempt to pull her into his arms again before they walked into view from the house. “You should also know that I’ve made plans for Mary and Jeremy to resettle by next month. Their stay at Elmhurst is only temporary.”

She gave a peeved sniff. “That is none of my concern.”

Oh yes, it was. Very much. The obstinate woman just didn’t know it yet. “Then the rumors about her will die down and—”

“And the others?”

He blinked, puzzled. “Pardon?”

“All the other rumors that have been circulating about you since your return, the ones which have nothing to do with Mary and her son,” she clipped out, nearly as quickly as her strides in her hurry to be away from him. “Will those die down, too?”

His chest tightened. “Those aren’t true.”

“So I’m to believe that you’ve given up drinking yourself into foxed fits of debauchery?” Accusation dripped from her voice, although he certainly deserved every bit of her displeasure. “That used to be your favorite pastime.”

His lips twisted ruefully. That was a very apt description of the shiftless man she’d once known him to be. “Yes, I’ve given it up.”

“Fraternizing with actresses and singers in smoky backrooms of Covent Garden hells?”

“I haven’t been to London since my return.” He slid her a suspicious glance. How didsheknow what went on in those rooms?

“And when you do travel there eventually?” she pressed. Now that they’d reached the small meadow behind the Hartsfield stables, her pace quickened, as if she couldn’t be away from him soon enough. And the uncertain furrow in her brow that he’d put there seemed to deepen with each step. “Am I to believe that you won’t spend all your time wagering at the clubs and gaming tables?”

“Believe it,” he answered calmly. “Because I plan on spending all my time with you, Faith.”

She halted and stared at him as if he’d just sprouted a second head. Her green eyes widened, and her pink lips formed a surprised O.

He took a single step closer to her, coming as close as he’d dared with the stables only a few yards away. “I’ll ask you again,” he said quietly, his voice low. “Will you give me a second chance?”

She swallowed, hard. So hard that the urge to place his lips right there against her throat and feel the soft movement for himself hit him so intensely that he shuddered.

“And the gossip about the other women, Stephen?” she whispered. Her words were barely more than a breath, but their indictment was piercing. “All the wives and widows you’re...intimate with?”

“There are no other women.” He stared into her eyes, trying to make her understand how much she meant to him. “I’m not the same man who left England, no matter what the gossips say.”

Doubt glistened in her eyes. “Am I truly to believe that?”

“Yes.” That single word was spoken with all the resolve he could muster, and every bit of his tarnished soul.

A peculiar look darkened her face, one he couldn’t quite decipher, as she stared at him silently, as if she couldn’t find the words to put voice to the emotions swirling inside her. “Stephen...”

But they were unable to say anything more because a groom hurried from the stable to take his horse, ending all further conversation. As he gave instructions for the gelding’s care, she backed away to put several feet between them, the rescued hound still at her heels.

“I have to see to the dog,” she explained, her fingers twisting nervously in her bonnet’s ribbons. “Thank you for the walk.”

She turned before he could stop her and practically ran toward the stables to flee from him.

“Faith?” he called out.