Surrender by Amanda Quick Page A

carpet. She was carrying a flat box in her hands and her eyes were alight with mischief. “How could you possibly think I would forget your visit to us this morning, my lord?”
    “One can never be completely certain of a lady’s memory.” Lucas inclined his head over the hand she gracefully extended. Her fingers felt cold and he knew then that she was not as composed as she appeared. This pleased him.
    “I assure you my memory is excellent.”
    “Unfortunately for a man, it is not always a lady’s memory that fails. Sometimes she simply changes her mind,” Lucas said.
    Victoria tilted her head and studied him. “Not without good cause. Please sit down, as my aunt suggested. Are you at all interested in beetles?”
    “Beetles?” For the first time Lucas glanced into the box and found himself viewing an array of dead insects pinned inside. They were carefully arranged in rows according to size, with the largest, a true monster, at one end. “To be perfectly truthful, Miss Huntington, I have never paid much heed to beetles.”
    “Oh, but these are very excellent beetles, are they not, Aunt Cleo?”
    “A fine collection,” Lady Nettleship agreed enthusiastically. “Lady Woodbury, a member of our little society, collected them.”
    “Fascinating.” Lucas sat down slowly, his eyes on Victoria as she took a place on the sofa next to her aunt. “One wonders how Lady Woodbury managed to kill so many large insects.”
    “In the usual manner, I presume,” Cleo said. “Pinched them under the wings or used camphor or a length of wire.”
    “Do you collect insects, Miss Huntington?” Lucas asked.
    “No, I fear I have not the stomach for it.” She glanced down into the box. “The poor things do not always die quickly, you know.”
    He watched her profile. “The will to survive can be amazingly strong.”
    “Yes.” She put the lid on the box of beetles.
    “I fear my niece is a bit too softhearted for certain areas of intellectual inquiry,” Cleo said with smile.
    “I will admit I prefer botany and horticulture to the study of insects.”
    “Your interests appear to be quite varied, Miss Huntington,” Lucas observed.
    “Did you think them limited?” She glanced at him through her lashes, her eyes gleaming with a mocking innocence.
    Lucas recognized a trap when he saw one. “Not at all. In the course of our brief association it has become quite clear to me that you are a woman with a most unusual mind.”
    Cleo glanced at him with interest. “Are you a student of horticulture and botany, sir?”
    “As you may have heard, I have only recently acceded to my title. I find that coming into my inheritance has greatly expanded my range of interests. It seems to me that I shall need to learn something about horticulture and similar subjects if I am to implement improvements on my estate,” Lucas said.
    Cleo looked pleased. “Excellent. Then you will no doubt be interested in Victoria’s watercolors and her drawings of plants.”
    Victoria turned a bright shade of pink, which amazed Lucas. “Aunt Cleo, I’m sure his lordship would not be in the least interested in my dabbles.”
    “I assure you, I would be most interested,” Lucas said quickly. Anything that could make Victoria blush was bound to be fascinating.
    “She has a wonderful ability.” Lady Nettleship said as she jumped to her feet and went to a nearby table to fetch a sketchbook. “Take a look at these.”
    “Aunt Cleo, really …”
    “Now, no false modesty, Vicky. Your work is lovely and so wonderfully true to life. I have been telling you for ages that you should get some of it published. Here you are, my lord. What do you think of these?” Cleo thrust the book into Lucas’s hands with an air of expectant triumph.
    Aware that Victoria was watching him in a resigned silence, Lucas took his time examining the sketchbook. He opened it expecting to find the usual assortment of amateurish artwork a man associated with females. It was