Lady Lorena Cullip is the definition in Mr. Samuel Johnson's English Dictionary for the word: curious.
One might also find her name under
1- scandalous
2- disastrous,
3- slightly mad.
But the latest rumors about the lady have all of London holdin...
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The Third Day of the Valdeston Country Party
"I think he rides just to avoid her," Calvin said as he came to stand by Lorena's chair.
She turned her face away from the sunrise and over to look at Calvin's profile. Then she turned back toward the field and watched as Francis raced his horse, Prince, toward another jump. Rider and beast flew in unison over every obstacle and Lorena had always thought it a magical thing to watch. Riding Prince was the first thing Francis did every morning. Though Lorena knew how much he enjoyed those moments, she did think he enjoyed them that much more because Genie avoided them.
At the moment, Lorena was certain Genie had her face pressed to the glass upstairs as she watched Francis ride, but she would never get too close to him when he was on Prince's back. Genie was afraid of horses. She could barely get into a carriage without being reduced to hysterics. Often, Lorena had to hold her hand through moments of their journeys.
"You may be right," Lorena decided, just before she picked up her tea and began to drink. Then she asked Calvin, "How's your morning? Is there anything you need?"
"Ever the perfect hostess," he murmured before dropping into a chair, his eyes steady on her.
Her stomach warmed at just the glance, and she looked away and concentrated on a tree in the distance. "Would you like some tea?" she asked him.
"I don't like tea," he told her, still watching her.
She knew he didn't like tea. Still, she was out of things to say. She could ask him the question again in either Latin or French but thought that a bad idea.
"Maybe, I haven't been doing it right," he told her.
"What?" she asked as she dared to turn back in his direction.
His eyes were clear of his usual playfulness, but only for a second. Then he grinned, but not even that was usual. This one held a rare warmth, as if he actually cared. "I think I've been doing it wrong."
Lorena had to force the words out of her straining lungs. "What are you doing wrong?"
He did a seductively slow blink and his grin went playful again. "Tea. I think I should give it another go. How do you take yours?"
Lorena blinked rapidly. "One sugar, no cream."
He moaned, a sound that seemed to vibrate the very air, and said, "Maybe I should try it."
She nodded and thought he'd move to one of the empty cups on the table. Instead, he started to reach for her cup. Lorena gasped and pulled it away. "No."
He chuckled and said, "Come on, Ren. Just a sip."
Lorena jumped, flung her cup back, and heard a curse. Then she turned around and gasped. She'd flung her tea right at Ashwick's middle and she knew, even through his shirt, it had to burn. His expression was dark.
