The Pursuit by Johanna Lindsey

hoped so. And with Melissa’s chaperon apparently on his side, he was able to relax somewhat, was even amused when Justin bowed before his cousin and asked, “May I have the next dance, Miss Burnett?”
    Poor Edith nearly fainted.

Twelve
    I T was impossible to wait until teatime that next afternoon. Lincoln would have arrived at the St. Jameses’ at the crack of dawn if he hadn’t been positive he’d be turned away at that hour. He managed to wait until the household would be finished with luncheon, but he was knocking on their door shortly thereafter.
    This time he had only to say his name to be invited in and shown to the parlor. And he barely had time to be impressed by the elegance there before Melissa arrived, a bit breathless, as if she’d run all the way, and treated him to her dimples with a brilliant smile.
    She gave him pause once again. To him she was so incredibly lovely, not dazzling like last night in her ball finery, but not the waif again either. She actually looked quite English today, in a fancy day dress of cream organza, though her coiffure wasn’t as tight, with a few loose tendrils reminding him of the waif.
    He was staring, so hard he didn’t realize immediately that no one had followed her into the room. When he did notice it, he even turned around once full circle to make sure her presence hadn’t distracted him to the point of seeing nothing else, before he said, “I don’t believe I really have you alone.”
    “My uncle will be coming along any moment. He always gets summoned down afore I do when I have a caller—made some extreme threats tae the poor butler tae make sure o’ it,” she said in only a half-teasing tone. “Takes his chaperoning o’ me most seriously.”
    “Then I would be ten times the fool to not take advantage of the moment.”
    Her eyes flared slightly in surprise as he took her hand in his, pulled her off to the side of the open doorway so they wouldn’t be readily seen by anyone passing by, and proceeded to kiss her. She didn’t try to stop him. In fact, she melted into his arms. And it was better than he could have imagined. Intoxicating, tasting her for the first time, gathering her close, wrapped in their own cocoon that excluded everything around them.
    He was very tentative at first, not wanting to frighten her, but that lasted only a moment. She did seem somewhat surprised when his tongue prodded her lips open and initially swirled with hers. But she adapted quickly, was open to learning, and seemed as eager to deepen that first kiss as he was.
    He had no idea how much coughing had gone on before it got progressively louder and was finallyloud enough to penetrate the magical realm they had created for themselves. When he did hear it, he released Melissa abruptly, made sure she had her balance, then stepped several feet away from her before turning to face the tall young man standing there glowering at him from the doorway.
    “Should I be tossing you oout the door, or was it the lass doing the kissing and in need of a thrashing?” The question was asked in a very unfriendly tone.
    Melissa’s chuckle, quite genuine rather than nervous, was decidedly misplaced considering what had just been said, until she told Lincoln, “Dinna look so appalled. He’s no’ serious. This is m’Uncle Ian. And, Uncle”—she turned to the fellow as well before reminding him pointedly—“you’ll recall I’ve mentioned Lord Cambury tae you, aye?”
    “Och, sae he’s the one, eh?” Ian replied. “A wee bit tardy in coming ’round, I’m thinking, but that explains the kissing. Just dinna be practicing any more o’ that until ye’ve yer da’s permission.”
    The expected blush finally arrived for Melissa. Lincoln was too disappointed to have the kiss ended to feel any real embarrassment over it. And being the oldest of the three, he took control of the situation and stepped forward to shake her uncle’s hand.
    “A pleasure, Ian.”
    The young Scot finally