Theresa Romain: Season for Temptation

Why was it that his thoughts flew to the bedchamber? To the heat of the physical? He swallowed.

Suddenly, the door swept open again. James was grateful for the distraction.

Louisa’s slim form appeared, attired for the outdoors in sensible walking boots and spencer. She looked proper and lovely, and as demure as a woman should be.

Her eyes at once found James’s, and she strode to greet him. “Oh, Lord Matheson — I mean, James — I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to meet you when you arrived. You must have made good time on the road; I’m glad of it. I have only just got back from a walk. I do apologize.”

She looked worried, as if she expected him to be displeased. He gave her his sunniest smile of reassurance, but the pucker remained between her delicate brows.

Something must be amiss with his face. Did he look odd? Was Louisa bothered that he had been speaking with Julia? Surely not; they were to be family, after all.

The thought made something twist deep inside him.

But he had made his choice, logically and irrevocably, and he knew how to act. He reached reflexively for Louisa’s hands, hoping to soothe the troubled expression from her face.

“My dear Louisa, please don’t give it another thought. It was a remarkably fine day for travel, and indeed I did make excellent time. I know I’ve arrived before I was expected. Since I’ve gotten here, I’ve been enjoying fine refreshments and some very, um, stimulating company.”

Good Lord, had he just said the word “stimulating”? That came a bit too close to the truth. He could have bitten his tongue for that.

But Louisa seemed not to notice any unwitting double meaning in his words. Her gaze was instead drawn to the four small children swinging their heels in the air as they sat in a line on the long sofa at the back of the room, munching on biscuits and chattering among themselves.

Her dark eyes widened at the sight, but her voice, when she spoke, was calm. “How lovely that the children have introduced themselves already,” she replied. “I suppose we are all to be family, and I hope you’ll forgive us for being somewhat unconventional in greeting you.”

We are all to be family . Yes, just as he’d reminded himself.

“Of course,” he replied. He hoped Louisa wouldn’t notice the catch in his voice.

He escorted her to a seat in a cushion-piled wing chair near the tea tray. As she sat, her brows again furrowed, and she shifted on the chair seat. “What on earth. .?”

Leaning to one side, she felt behind an embroidered cushion and pulled out a much-creased sheaf of sheet music. She held it, bemused, for a moment, then looked up at Julia.

“The music!” Julia exclaimed. “Emilia’s pianoforte music. I’d forgotten all about it.”

A vague memory stirred in James’s mind. “Music? Is that what you were shouting about when you ran in here?”

“Shouting?” Louisa echoed, glancing from James to Julia and back again. The corners of her mouth began to curve upward. “I’m terribly sorry I missed that.”

“Nonsense. No one was shouting,” Julia said, eyeing James with a gimlet stare. “Honestly, the very suggestion is ridiculous. As our illustrious companion and I have already discussed in some detail.”

Louisa nodded. “I’m sure his lordship is teasing you.”

“I would never do such a thing,” James demurred, wiping a poker-straight expression across his face.

Julia’s hand rose to cover her grin, but not soon enough to suppress a snort of laughter.

“Watercress sandwich?” she finally choked out, extending a plate to Louisa.

“No, thank you,” Louisa replied. “I know how much you enjoy them, Julia. You go right ahead and finish them all up.”

Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief, and James was sure Louisa knew exactly how much her sister enjoyed watercress.

“I. . I don’t care for any more,” Julia faltered. “I’m rather too full, and you know we’ll be dining fairly soon.”

“Full?” Louisa raised her eyebrows. “Have you already had several watercress sandwiches, then? I didn’t realize they were such favorites of yours. Perhaps we should arrange to have them served to you more often.”

James raised his teacup to his lips so the sisters wouldn’t see him struggling not to laugh.

Over the rim of the teacup, he saw Louisa look back to the sheaf of music she still held. The impishness vanished from her eyes, and again that pucker of worry knit her brows.

James wondered what she was so worried about. Surely it wasn’t anything to do with him?

“Don’t eat the fish, James,” Julia told him in a low, urgent voice across the table as soon as they were seated at dinner.

Warily, he eyed the lemon-garnished trout arranged on a platter near his elbow. He wasn’t fond of the headleft-on style of cooking a fish, but apart from that, they looked perfectly innocent.

“Er,” was all he could manage before Lady Oliver shushed her daughter.

“Good heavens, Julia.” The baroness laughed. “Lord Matheson will think we are trying to poison him.” A cheerful woman with Julia’s light hair and eyes, Lady Oliver had welcomed her guest with immediate warmth — and, it seemed, no murderous intentions.

“He shouldn’t think that,” Julia replied, “since if the fish were poisoned, and I wanted him to be poisoned, I would hardly have told him not to eat them. I would have told him to eat them. No, James, no one wants to poison you.”

He blinked, unraveling this string of arguments. “I must say, I’m relieved to hear it.”

“Well, we’ve only just met you,” Julia answered. “Give us time; maybe we’ll change our minds.”

Louisa coughed. “Perhaps the viscount would prefer not to have his life threatened during his first family dinner with us.”

“Why wait?” Julia asked breezily. “Good heavens, someone is always threatening someone else around here. It’s all in good fun, though. It means you’re part of the family now.”

She turned that bright smile on him again, and James’s insides clutched. Somewhere right between his heart and his groin — and truth be told, he wasn’t sure which was more affected.

He would never have expected a family dinner with his fiancée to include forbidden foods and veiled death threats.

He was finding he liked the unexpected.

“Now, now,” Lord Oliver broke in mildly. “It’s hardly polite to tell our guest that we’ve denied him certain dishes, is it? My lord, that’s an awfully fine trout there. I think you’ll enjoy it very much, if you care to partake of it. I caught it myself in a lake not far from here.”

James glanced around for guidance. Both Louisa and Julia shook their heads at him, Julia mouthing “no” as broadly as she could.

Mystified, James nevertheless took the unmistakable hint. “I thank you for the offer, but the rest of the course you’ve offered me looks so delicious that I believe I’ve already served myself more than enough.”

Lord Oliver accepted this, and turned his attention to his wife. While James couldn’t exactly follow the thread of their conversation, he very much feared it had to do with which type of excrement made the best fertilizer.

The baron shared Louisa’s dark coloring, and he would have been a tall, gentlemanly-looking man had not his careless dress and distracted manner given him a shambling air. James could tell that his prospective father-in-law was as little aware of fashion as he was of subjects that ought to be avoided during dinner.

“Psst.” Julia drew his attention away from his thoughts while her parents were still distracted by their talk of unpalatable organic matter. “The fish.”