Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Stop!” I begged.
“There were older marks on the tree, and I realized then that you had a cursing tree, and you used it often.”
“I know nothing about that,” I said with a smile. “A lady never uses foul language.”
“Unless the lady’s name is Aphrodite. Then she uses it all the time, just unbeknownst to her victims.”
“I am no longer speaking to you,” I said, like a child. As we reached the dressmaker, I walked inside, knowing he would not follow. But when I recognized one of the patrons inside, I turned right back around and stood beside him.
“What is the matter?” He tried to look.
“Do not!” I muttered.
“What is it, Aphrodite?”
“It’s her,” I whispered.
“Who?”
“Her!” Our faces were far too close, so I jumped back. He seemed not to be affected by proximity like I was. “Her…from the shrubbery…in the garden of the ball.”
“Truly.” He gaped. “Which one?”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for her.”
“Why? I saw…I saw…you know what I saw.”
“Exactly. She should be more afeared of seeing you than the other way around. Though I doubt she knows you exist.”
I frowned. “You do not think she saw me?”
“Despite how long and intensely you were observing?” he teased. My eyes narrowed to a point on his face. “No. I do not believe she saw you. I believe she was far too taken away to notice any of the world around her.”
“Really?” I glanced back as the young lady was looking around the shop with her mama. She looked to be even younger than I in the light of day.
“Are you sure it is her?”
“I have seen her face too many times in my dreams to be mistaken.”
“Is that so?”
The gaze of his brown eyes shifted. And it felt as if he were pulling me in, and I could not look away.
“Yes,” I finally managed to answer.
He inhaled through his nose and glanced away from my face, looking to the sky. “I swear. Aphrodite…”
“You swear what?”
He swallowed hard but said nothing.
“Do not become reticent. Speak your thoughts.”
“I cannot.”
“Why not?”
“Because my thoughts are beastly,” he replied, finally looking at me. “And I fear you are not afraid of beasts.”
“Is that not a good thing?” I whispered. “To not be afraid.”
“No, for it makes the beasts even more hungry,” he whispered back. “It takes them to the point of starvation until they can no longer remain gentlemanly and find themselves in the shrubbery.”
A warmth spread over me…as it had at night while I remembered what I saw in the gardens. My breathing felt heavier. “Does it hurt…being taken to the shrubbery?”
He glanced down, flexing his fist. “Aphrodite, I beg of you, let us speak of something else…”
“Does it hurt?” I repeated my question.
He said nothing, again inhaling through his nose before looking at me. “The first time for a lady, it may, depending on her partner. Truthfully, it always depends on her partner whether it is a painful or pleasurable experience.”
My heart quickened, and my chest tightened. “The one in there had a pleasurable experience?”
“I did not see well enough, but I would assume so.”
Finally. Answers.
“Aroused?” I stepped closer to ask.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” I asked, not understanding.
“You asked me if I was aroused, did you not?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he looked into my eyes. “Or do you still think it merely means to arise from slumber?”
“How can I know any other meaning when no one tells me?” I questioned. “So tell me.”
“It is hard to explain…for it is a feeling.”
“What is this feeling?”
“Like heat.” He stepped closer. “Like fire spreading throughout your body, desire pulsating upon the skin, and an ache in the pit of your stomach.”
“To what end?”
“The shrubbery.” He inhaled and looked as though he would eat me like a beast, and I felt my breathing become much slower. “Or if you are skilled enough to release on your own.”
“My…my…own?”
“Lady Aphrodite?”
I spun around to see Mrs. Frinton-Smith, an older woman, whose great-great-grandfather was once a famed peer, I believe, and her father the third son of a viscount, but her husband was a rich merchant who owned several shops down the lane.
“Mrs. Frinton-Smith, good morning. How are you?” I asked, watching as her blue eyes skimmed over Evander. Oh no, here began the start of a new rumor.
“I’m lovely, my dear. What brings you in today?” she asked as if she were the shopkeeper.
“Lord Everely’s sister is seeking a modification to a dress for my family’s ball tonight. My sister-in-law, who is just there, watching by the window, and I came to help when I found myself a bit heated and remained outside. My maid is just there as well,” I said to give myself as much cover as possible.
“How kind of you to wait with her, Your Grace,” Mrs. Frinton-Smith said to Evander.
He nodded to her. “It is more for my sister’s sake. I would rather be at the club with the other gentlemen.”