Page 85 of Why Do Rogues Fall in Love?

“God,” he murmured, his voice rough and unsteady. “It would be best if you eased away, Cori. I vowed to conduct myself as a proper gentleman during your stay here, but this…” His arms tightened around her for one fleeting moment, and she felt the warmth of his breath against her temple before he reluctantly lowered his hands. “I want you far too much, and I fear my restraint will desert me entirely if you remain this close.”

Awe swept through Cordelia at the realization that she could affect a man like George so profoundly. This handsome, experienced rogue, who had surely known the attentions of countless beautiful women, was struggling to master his desire because of her. The knowledge sent a delicious warmth unfurling through her, and she eased away just enough to meet his gaze, where the hunger she discovered made her pulse quicken.

“If I choose to seduce you,” she asked softly, a daring little smile curving her lips, “will you also resist that?”

“Woman,” he began with a low growl, dangerous heat flashing in his silver-gray eyes.

“Do not worry,” she whispered, allowing her fingers to linger against his waist before reluctantly withdrawing them. “I shall be very gentle with you if you decide to surrender.”

He made a low, incredulous sound, and the wicked expression that crossed his face sent another delicious flutter through her. Smiling, she turned and walked toward the manor, acutely conscious of his gaze following her every step and of the exhilarating knowledge that she had left him as thoroughly unsettled as he so often left her.

More astonishing still was the realization that her heart had opened itself to him a little further, and despite all she knew of his wicked reputation and the dangers of loving such a man, she was no longer quite so afraid.

CHAPTER 20

George had endured more than his share of uncomfortable dinners, but he could not recall another occasion upon which he had been subjected to such relentless scrutiny by a lady who had scarcely uttered a dozen words throughout the meal. Lady Katherine had been watching him with the suspicion ordinarily reserved for a gentleman discovered climbing out of a married woman’s bedchamber.

He supposed he could hardly blame her. He suspected she knew rather more about his acquaintance with Cordelia than he might have wished, and an excellent dinner was unlikely to improve her opinion of him.

Fortunately, Cordelia appeared determined to compensate for her sister’s silence.

She had been delightful throughout the meal, regaling him with tales of the animals she had encountered since returning to the house. After pressing that innocent, devastating kiss to the corner of his mouth, she had left him with an aching cock and the desperate urge to toss her over his shoulder, carry her to his bedchamber, and make love to her until they were both thoroughly exhausted. Meanwhile, she had gone about the house seeking out its occupants as though she had not left him in a state of considerable torment. He had even discovered her questioning Hector about who had taught him to call George pretty.

For the sake of his sanity, he had retreated to his study and attempted to occupy himself with estate matters. Yet he was profoundly glad he had brought her here. Most ladies of his acquaintance would have offered polite admiration before turning the conversation toward more fashionable concerns. Cordelia, however, had been genuinely fascinated by everything she had seen. She spoke animatedly of the animals, cheerfully disregarded Katherine’s admonishment that she ought to have waited for a chaperone, and then engaged him in a political discussion that appeared to horrify her sister.

To his surprise, Katherine gradually began listening with keen interest, although she occasionally cast him puzzled glances. George suspected he understood her confusion. She evidently believed he was indulging Cori, but nothing could have been further from the truth. From their first meeting, he had found her a woman with whom he could speak freely, without worrying about the delicate sensibilities society insisted her sex must possess.

Cordelia drew him back to their discussion with a fierce little scowl.

“But surely,” Cordelia said, setting down her fork, “if Parliament acknowledges that mistreating horses and cattle is wrong, why should other creatures be denied the same protection?”

George smiled slightly. “Some gentlemen consider such laws an interference with their rights over their property. Others argue that prohibiting certain amusements would unfairly deprive poorer men of their pleasures while leaving those of wealthy gentlemen untouched.”

“One law being insufficient is hardly a reason to oppose it altogether.”

George regarded her with admiration. She had arrived at much the same objection raised by supporters of the proposed reforms, without ever hearing the debates. “You would make a formidable opponent in the House of Commons, Cori.”

She grinned cheekily. “Then perhaps gentlemen ought to invite ladies to participate. We might help them reach more sensible conclusions.”

He laughed, before telling her of the Westminster Pit, where spectators wagered upon animals forced into combat, including Jacco Macacco, a monkey whose reputed victories over fighting dogs had made him a sensation.

“A monkey?” Cordelia exclaimed, aghast. “They forced a monkey to fight dogs?”

“They did. This creature’s suffering was cited before Parliament, yet even such accounts have failed to convince every gentleman that these entertainments should be prohibited.”

Katherine, who had been listening quietly, lowered her fork. “Does the proposed legislation also concern cockfighting? My husband considers it a gentleman’s sport, though I cannot understand the pleasure of watching birds injure one another. He once mentioned throwing at cocks, which sounded even worse.”

“Unfortunately, cockfighting enjoys the patronage of many gentlemen of rank. As for throwing at cocks, a rooster is tethered while men hurl weighted sticks at it, often until it dies.”

“Good heavens!” Katherine recoiled. “And gentlemen call that sport? The poor creature cannot even defend itself.”

“No, and I have rescued several birds from such cruelties. Some arrived terribly injured, though a number have recovered.”

“I am very glad to hear it, my lord,” she replied with such genuine feeling that George began to hope she might yet grant him a fair hearing.

“Then the difficulty,” Cordelia observed, “is persuading gentlemen to condemn amusements enjoyed by their own friends and acquaintances.”

“Precisely. Men are often willing to condemn the pleasures of another class while refusing to examine their own.”