Page 83 of Aurelia

“I’m afraid there is a…er, well a problem.”

“What?” Lord Crewe demanded when his old retainer hesitated.

“Miss Hatchet discovered a crab in her bed, my lord.”

The earl froze for a moment and then flung his cards onto the table. “Damnation!”

“Crewe,” Arthur chided.

“Er, I beg your pardon, Miss Burton,” Lord Crewe said to Aurelia and then strode toward the door.

Once it had closed behind him, Arthur stood. “I suppose I should go along and see if I can help calm the situation.” He clucked his tongue. “Poor Miss Hatchet.”

“I was thinking poor crab, myself,” Guustin muttered, earning a look of raw dislike from Arthur.

“You may find this amusing but I assure you that Celsa will suffer greatly,” Arthur snapped.

“If she is the one who placed the crustacean in Miss Hatchet’s bed then perhaps she should suffer,” Guustin said.

Arthur glared at him with deep loathing and then turned to Aurelia. “Excuse me, please.”

Aurelia nodded. “Of course.”

Guustin gathered up the cards and commenced to shuffle once the other man had gone. “Shall we play a game of two-handed?”

Aurelia nodded absently, her thoughts on Celsa. “Why would she do it?”

Guustin snorted. “You have met Miss Hatchet, haven’t you? If anyone could drive a person to do such a stupid thing it would be that woman. I don’t know why my father allows Arthur to choose Celsa’s governesses. All of them have been like this Hatchet creature: humorless, vindictive, and prudish.”

“Miss Hatchet can be abrasive, but Celsa should know that she cannot go through life taking such actions against people she dislikes. Not to mention that the punishment will far outstrip whatever pleasure she gets.”

“Sometimes a few moments of revenge are worth the cost,” Guustin said, dealing out the cards.

Aurelia narrowed her eyes at him. “Is it my imagination, or does Arthur dislike you?”

He laughed. “That was rather to the point, Aurelia.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

He dealt out the last card and laid a hand over hers. “No. Do not apologize. I like you the way you are.”

He did not remove his hand immediately, but instead leaned closer. “Do you know what I am thinking?” he asked, his voice low and a little rough, his pupils swelling as she watched.

“I probably should not try guessing.”

He clucked his tongue. “Ah, evasion from you, Aurelia?” He leaned toward her slowly enough that she could have backed away if she wanted to. But she didn’t. It wasn’t that she wanted Guustin, but she did want to know what it felt to be kissed by somebody who was not the earl.

His lips, warm and soft, brushed against hers and Aurelia closed her eyes and waited for the spiral of joy—the quickening of her pulse—to overwhelm her senses.

Guustin gave a soft moan of pleasure and cupped her cheek, deepening the kiss.

Aurelia waited and waited while his lips caressed her with undeniable skill.

Nothing.

As if she had spoken aloud, he pulled back, his expression one of amused resignation. “I’m sorry. I should not have done that.”

Aurelia felt strange—as if she should apologize for not responding. His kiss had not generated so much as a spark of desire. The entire experience had felt like a scientific experiment: cool, detached, and interesting, but not absorbing.