Page 43 of Saving a Scoundrel
Ellie shook her head.
He plucked one. “You know, I’ve never had the opportunity to read any of these love letters.”
“Not that one!” Ellie reached out to grab the letter in his hand.
But he pulled it back and stood up. “Why not? I promise not to make fun of it. I’m just curious.”
Ellie closed her eyes briefly. “I just don’t think that one is the one to start with. Perhaps this one instead.” She held out another.
He took the one she offered but did not relinquish the one he had already. He read the letter.
My dearest love,
In two weeks, we will be together again. This will be the longest fortnight of my life. I long for the touch of your sweet lips, the graze of your fingertips across my skin, the melodious note of your voice. Lady T is happy with the progress of her memoir, and I have told her I must have the peace and quiet of the seaside to write the next chapters from the copious notes I took in our last interview. Her husband is in town, and she will be busy the next month, so I am free to visit my aunt. I wait with fervent anticipation for you and your mother to come stay.
Your letters keep my spirits from flagging. Our friendship means so much to me. But they do not compare to being in your presence and being able to drink in your beauty. My heart is in mourning until I see you again.
Love, J
What tripe. The man certainly was skilled with the romantic nonsense. Not that he would give this opinion to Ellie and risk her ire. Was this the type of wooing women wanted? In his experience, some honest flattery and showing an interest in what the lady was saying was the surest way to win her affection. Women, especially married ladies, did not get enough attention paid to them, which is what they truly craved. He flipped to the second letter. As he read it through, even he became sucked into the desperate passion-filled words. He glanced up at Ellie. She moved off the chaise and stared at him with a strange glint in her eye.
“Lucius.”
“Yes, Ellie.”
“I think that I’d like to tackle number eight on my list.” She moved toward him with purpose.
He stepped back. “Ellie, I don’t think us kissing is a good idea. I have been meaning to talk to you about setting some boundaries about the list.”
“But you promised to help me with the items on it.” She continued to come closer.
He backed up farther until the back of his legs made contact with his desk. “What about Mr. Evans?”
Ellie stood right in front of him. Her chin jutted out. “I don’t care about Mr. Evans.”
“What about Miss Macdougal?”
Ellie frowned. “I don’t care for Miss Macdougal either. She is just using you to gain entry into society.”
“I know.”
“You do? Then why let her?” She took a step back. “Do you care for her?”
Lucius sighed. “Not in the way you mean. Eleanor, life cannot always be like these letters, full of romantic promises and flowery innuendo. Her father wants to bring me into his brewing business, and I think that is something I would enjoy. I have to think about my future. I no longer have the luxury of doing whatever I want.”
She tilted her head to one side as she looked up at him. She was turning over something in that clever mind of hers. “Couldn’t you open your own brewery? Then you would be the boss and not beholden to anyone.”
His own brewery? He hadn’t considered it. It would take an enormous amount of work to start an endeavor like that. “With what money? Ellie, I have none to speak of. I’m barely keeping up appearances.”
“I’m not sure. Investors? You have friends who would help you if you asked.”
“No.” He shook his head. He had sponged off his friends enough. He needed to make his own way. “Let’s change the subject, please.”
Ellie opened her mouth as though she planned to say more but then closed it and nodded. “Let’s talk about the letters. I have questions about that one.” She pointed to one he’d just read.
Lucius cleared his throat. “This one?”
Ellie stepped closer. She placed a hand on his chest. “I wondered what he meant by…” she rose on tiptoe, her mouth right next to his ear to whisper the last words, “lapping up your desire.”
