Master of Love
“Bizarre though it was—she wasn’t at all Dom’s usual type—she’d intruded into his thoughts all afternoon. He’d endured squiring Anna and Lady Vaughnley on an interminable round of social calls through which he’d valiantly flirted and engaged in the expected risqué double entendres. As he now paced down the corridor to his library, an irritating twinge of conscience marred his anticipation. To his surprise, the delectably prim Miss Higginbotham had defended him at luncheon; to his disgrace, he’d ...returned the favor by exposing her to ridicule. He knew he’d behaved badly when he’d done nothing to deflect Anna’s snide comments and instead added his own, but the earnestness of the woman’s defense had prodded his old shame to lash out. On seeing her whitened cheeks, he’d regretted right away setting her up for sport. Too late—the damage had been done.
He sighed. He should have been inured to feeling left out, and jealousy over the scholar’s life was only ridiculous self-indulgence at this point.MoreLess
He sighed. He should have been inured to feeling left out, and jealousy over the scholar’s life was only ridiculous self-indulgence at this point.MoreLess
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