Nearly a Lady by Alissa Johnson

knew it even before he’d reached out with his hand. But he’d been unable to stop himself. Just as he was unable to stop himself now from brushing his thumb along the edge of her jaw and imagining what it would be like to taste her right there, where the skin was soft and tight. The light kiss, the brief flick of tongue, the gentle scrape of his teeth along . . .
    It took an enormous act of will to let his hand fall naturally to his side. The urge to snatch it away was almost as strong as the urge to wrap his fingers around the nape of her neck and pull her close.
    “My pleasure.” His voice sounded muted over the roaring of blood in his ears. “If there’s anything else you need, you’ve only to ask.”
    He told himself the offer was little more than a formality. It was simply the sort of thing a gentleman said to a lady directly before taking his leave. The suspicion that he would agree to any request she cared to make in that moment was studiously ignored.
    Winnefred said nothing, as if she hadn’t even heard him. Her eyes, he realized with ever-growing discomfort, were still fixed on his mouth.
    He took a full step back. “Well, if there’s nothing . . .” His imminent departure seemed to pull her from her thoughts. Her gaze snapped to his.
    “What?” She frowned briefly and, to his immense relief, appeared to regain her composure. “Oh, yes, wait, there is something I should like, if it’s not too much bother. Are you going into town tomorrow?”
    “I could manage it.” An errand several miles away. He could most certainly manage it. “Is there something you need?”
    “Chocolate. I’d not tried it before you came, but now that I have, I can’t seem to stop drinking it. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life. I’m down to my last cup’s worth.”
    “I’m afraid the little I brought was all Mr. McDaniel had in stock. His next shipment isn’t due for another . . . fortnight, I believe he said.”
    “A fortnight? We’ll be gone to London by then.”
    The disappointment in her voice tugged at him. She shouldn’t have to wait until London. Not after waiting twelve years to start. “I’ll make the trip to Langholm.”
    “For chocolate?” She laughed and waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t be silly. I thank you for the offer, but I’ve not become that spoiled. I’ll wait and save the final cup for a special occasion.”
    “Such as?”
    “Well, I don’t know yet, do I? Something monumental. My first gracefully executed curtsy perhaps.” She watched him as he chuckled. When she spoke next, it was with enough hesitancy to make him nervous. “There is something else I should like to ask of you.”
    He hoped it was another errand. “I’m at your service.”
    “Would it . . . Would it be a great deal of trouble for you to attend meals now and again? I know you prefer eating in your chambers,” she hurried on as if she could guess the direction of his thoughts, “but if Lilly were to have a distraction from time to time, it would help ease her burden, I think, as well as mine. With nothing else to do or think on, she’s become a bit fanatical about our trip. I don’t think it’s healthy.”
    “She’s devoted.”
    “She’s nearing deranged. Lord Gideon . . .” She swallowed and looked at him with a hope he knew he wouldn’t be able to deny. “Gideon, please .”
    It was just a meal or two, he told himself. Just an hour here and there, chaperoned and across the barrier of a sturdy oak table. He could do that.
    “Certainly,” he heard himself say. “I’ll make a point of it.”
    She beamed at him. “Thank you.”
    “The pleasure will be mine, I’m sure.” So would the torture. “If there’s nothing else—”
    “There is actually.”
    Oh, bloody hell.
    He leaned on his cane, hard. “And what might that be?”
    She shifted her weight and placed her hands behind her back as if to keep from fidgeting. “I realize this isn’t the best time for me to