Page 28 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
…
“Agnes!” Her mother burst into her room. “Get up and let me look at you.”
Agnes looked up from her drawing and quickly shut her book. “What?”
“You have a gentleman caller,” her mother said. “And I must say it’s about damned time. Honestly, Agnes, there is no reason you shouldn’t have a line of suitors out the door every day.”
Agnes sighed and wished, as she’d done so many times before, that she had a normal mother who doted and encouraged her. “We’ve discussed this. So many times, Mother, and I’m truly not in the mood.” What she should have said was that it was far more likely that she’d have a line of suitors if her mother wasn’t hell-bent on stealing them out from under her. But it wasn’t worth the fight. Agnes didn’t want anything to do with her mother’s leftover lovers. She made for the door and her mother grabbed her arm, stilling her.
“Wait.” She whirled Agnes to face her, then pinched her cheeks. “You need some color in your face. Bite down on your lips, add some blood there, too.” Then she let her gaze follow the lines of Agnes’s dress. Her mother’s features squished. “Do you not have anything a little more flattering? This one does nothing to highlight your finer features.”
“Revealing, you mean, and no. I’m certainly not putting a ball gown on at only two in the afternoon.” At this point, she didn’t even care who the man was waiting downstairs. She only wanted space from her mother and her incessant, horrible advice on flirting and using her womanly wiles. It was all nonsense.
“You’re not getting any younger, Agnes. There’s no sense in wasting all of this time.” Her mother shook her head. “None of it makes any sense to me. By the time I was your age, I had three proposals and three times as many suitors. What are you doing to keep all the men away?”
“I’m not going to discuss that with you, mother.”
“Is it your brother? Because I will speak to him when he returns to London.” When Agnes made no attempt to answer, her mother rolled her eyes. “Well then get yourself downstairs before you scare this one away. Or he loses patience waiting on you.”
Agnes shook her head, then made her way downstairs. She fully expected to find Sullivan when she reached the parlor. Instead, she found Fletcher leaning with one arm braced on the fireplace. He turned upon her entrance and flashed a cocky smile at her. Her breath caught. She silently cursed him and this effect he had on her. Her skin felt aflame and her neck and palms itched.
“Agnes, you said I could call upon you.” He shoved off the mantel and ambled toward her. The simple movement showcased his long, muscular legs, and the breadth of his shoulders.
She swallowed hard in hopes of hiding her reaction. He was distractingly attractive in a way that she’d never found any other man to be.
“I hope I’m not catching you at an inconvenient time.”
She shook her head, then quickly said, “No, I was working on a project, but it’s not a bad time.” Motioning to the chairs adjacent to the settee, she took a seat on the gold fabric chair. “Please, sit.”
He lowered himself onto the chair next to hers. His long legs stretched out in front of him, crossing at the ankle. So long with thighs as thick as some tree trunks. Good heavens.
“I see my mother has already called for refreshments.”
He chuckled. “Yes, your mother greeted me when I arrived.”
Oh dear. Agnes’s stomach soured at the thought of her mother’s hands on Fletcher. Would he be tempted to say yes if the older woman propositioned him? “I feel as if I should apologize for her.”
“Nonsense. She’s a perfectly”—he paused as if searching for the correct adjective—“delightful woman.”
“That she is. My mother is many things, delightful being one of her finer qualities.” Agnes bit down on her lip. “Fletcher, might I ask you question?”
“Of course.”
“What are you doing here?” She smiled, then exhaled slowly. “I don’t mean that rudely.”
“Can a man not pay a visit to a charming lady?”
“Yes, but you never have before.” Agnes’s heart thundered in her chest. She ignored the thrill that shot through her. She should not relish the notion of his seducing her. Because certainly once that was done, he would leave her. He’d never be faithful to one woman.
Still, Justine had mentioned noticing an increase in Fletcher’s attention since Christopher had been out of town. Agnes narrowed her gaze at him for several moments without saying anything.
She knew this was not courting. Fletcher had had years to court her. Had years to express an interest, yet aside from the night they first met and the one dance he allowed them, he’d never shown any interest in being more than friends.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Fletcher’s brows rose slowly. “Of course not. Why would you think such a thing?”
“I know you’re not courting me.”
