The moment of seduction on the stairs with Millicent couldn’t have gone any better. Well, that was unless he could’ve already sampled those lush lips.
He tamped down the urge to stride toward her and guide her to a secluded corner of the house to answer the question of how she’d taste. Perhaps then he could think. Another sip of his drink helped, the whiskey burning a path to his stomach. Yet a moment later, he found himself watching Millicent again.
Her smile as she spoke with the other guests caused an odd sensation in his chest. Her crimson-colored gown brought out the chestnut highlights in her hair. It was swept up in a loose swirl with a single strand left to frame one cheek. She gestured with her free hand, those long fingers fluttering through the air, making him wonder how they’d feel along his skin. He blinked at the thought, shrugging his shoulders to dismiss the tension suddenly gripping him.
With a scowl, he turned his back to Millicent, reminding himself to take care. He couldn’t show too much interest, or she might think he had more than a kiss in mind. That would never do. He didn’t want to hurt her.
In fact, he would make it clear he had no desire to marry her or anyone for at least the next five or ten years, and he would do so before they shared a kiss. That way, there would be no misunderstanding later. He could easily imagine his sister’s wrath, not to mention Trentworth’s, if he were to hurt Millicent.
He gave a single nod at the wisdom of his plan. He would advise her of the parameters of the kiss at the first opportunity. Then she could decide if she wanted to proceed.
Or not. That possibility had him scowling again.
“Linford, is the drink not to your liking?” Viscount Garland asked then held up his own. “I thought it a very good whiskey.”
“It is, indeed.” Winston forced a smile. “Thinking of something else.”
“I see. Such is the life of a bachelor, eh? One’s thoughts are often in a tangle.”
Winston frowned. “I don’t know that I would agree.” He would defend his single life to the end.
“Oh?” Garland looked surprised and doubtful but clinked his glass against Winston’s. “Good for you. I can’t say I miss those days.” His expression softened as his gaze sought his wife. “Marrying Harriet was the best thing I’ve ever done. It tooksome time to convince her, but I suppose I enjoyed that journey as well.”
Winston smothered a sigh. Far too many of his friends had married in the past year or two. He wished them happiness, but he missed seeing them at the club. Most of his acquaintances who remained unmarried consisted of jaded rogues who tended to drink, gamble, and chase light-skirts. An evening with them left him with little more than a headache and empty pockets, feeling disgusted with himself.
There were times he knew there had to be more to life than the way he currently spent his days. But he need only remember his parents’ many arguments to decide against making any changes until necessary. With luck, that would be years from now.
Of course, not all married couples disagreed about everything, and certainly not with the passion his parents had, but he knew his faults and expected the worst.
“Good to hear that married life agrees with you,” Winston said, taking another sip before he said something contrary.
“It does.” Garland leaned close. “Can’t wait to see the day when you fall under a lady’s spell, Linford. I will do my best to restrain from saying ‘I told you so.’” The viscount laughed at his own jest.
Winstead did not.
Oddly enough, an ache settled in his chest, though he couldn’t say why. It couldn’t be envy or longing. That was ridiculous even to think. There might be a few advantages for married men but for him, those did not outweigh the disadvantages.
He moved around the room to speak with the other guests, surprised when the ache didn’t go away. Millicent’s presence was impossible to ignore, but he was proud of himself for keeping his distance. The last thing he wanted was for his sister to see something brewing between him and Millicent.
Soon dinner was announced. To both his delight and dismay—though he would’ve insisted those were two very different feelings—he was partnered with Millicent.
He offered his arm to escort her into the dining room, doing his best to keep his usual friendly banter with both her and those near them.
Millicent watched him so closely that he wondered if he was trying too hard to act normal. It was just that her nearness set him off balance. Women rarely had that effect on him. Clearly he needed to get the kiss over and done so he could put these strange feelings aside.
After he explained the rules to her, he reminded himself.
“How delicious this is,” Millicent said after they’d all enjoyed the first few spoonfuls of the creamy asparagus soup.
Several of the other guests quickly agreed.
“A new recipe the cook suggested we should try,” Eliza advised.
Restlessness at the inane topic came over Winston and he shifted in his chair, only to realize doing so allowed him to press his leg against Millicent’s.
He kept the connection for a long moment then glanced over to see her staring at her soup, spoon frozen in mid-air, and a lovely blush rising in her cheeks. More than satisfaction filled him at the sight—desire heated him as well.
In truth, he was taken aback that such a small touch could stir him so. Perhaps it had been longer since he’d been with a woman than he realized.