The Trouble With Honor (The Cabot Sisters #1)

“Spoken like a true innocent,” Easton said with a patient smile as he searched the crowd, presumably for Lady Seifert. But then his blue eyes flicked to her; he studied her a moment and suddenly smiled so charmingly that Honor felt a little unsteady. “Oh, my,” he said as they woodenly maneuvered the corner of the dance floor. “I sense you would like to convince me you are not an innocent, but couldn’t possibly say so for the sake of propriety.”


That was precisely the thing that had flitted through her mind, and Honor could feel her cheeks heating. She was very practiced in the art of courting, but she was an innocent in the purest sense of the word. In spite of all outward appearances, Honor guarded her virtue very carefully. In fact, Easton was the first man who had ever kissed her so thoroughly, and the memory of that kiss, of his mouth and hands on her skin, made her feel too warm all of a sudden. She should have guarded herself with him—he was a potent and very virile man. “That is not at all what I was thinking. You needn’t tease me—I merely wondered after your association with Lady Seifert.”

“That,” he said, clearly still amused, “is not for an innocent such as yourself to wonder. I fear it would bruise your maidenly sensibilities.”

“How foolish I’ve been. I thought you merely a rooster, but it would seem you’re an imperious rooster. Just as I should not wonder about you, neither should you wonder about me, Mr. Easton.”

His charming smile broadened with delight. “What is it that raises your hackles, love? One moment I am George, and the next Mr. Easton, depending upon just how cross you are with me, eh? Allow me to enlighten you, Miss Cabot. The difference between us is that it is not necessary for me to wonder about you. I know an innocent when I see one.”

Honor gasped indignantly, but before she could argue, he whirled her about and her back brushed against another dancer. “Will you have a care!” she whispered hotly.

“I should have a care? That’s rich—surely even you see the irony in that statement.”

“At least I’m discreet when I’m careless and don’t bump into this person or that.”

Easton laughed. “Do you hear yourself, madam? You are quite possibly the most indiscreet woman I have ever met!”

“Me?”

“Absolutely you, love,” he said, smiling. “You are a careless, indiscreet, absurdly brazen young woman, who wishes she were not as innocent as she is, and honestly, I have never been more goddamned intrigued.”

Honor had already opened her mouth to argue, but warmth ballooned through her, puffing her up. She wanted to cover her entire body with it. With him. She really wished George wouldn’t smile at her so charmingly, so warmly, so deeply. It shone inside him, glittered in his eyes. She tried to keep from smiling in return, to show him that she was quite offended, but try as she might, she could not keep the smile from her lips. “Well, you needn’t shout it.”

He laughed, pulled Honor into his body and twirled again and again to the edge of the dance floor, where he caught her hand and pulled her off.

“Wait, what are you doing?” she exclaimed, glancing nervously about them. Two gentlemen smiled knowingly. At least she worried that was so.

“I am giving my poor feet a much needed rest,” he said, and glanced back. “Come, then,” he said, and put his hand to her back, ushering her forward more quickly, to the buffet and footman. “A glass of champagne will quench your thirst, Miss Cabot,” he said, rather loudly.

“I don’t want—”

He squeezed her hand so tightly that Honor squealed a bit. But Easton ignored her and deftly steered her past the buffet, slipping into the corridor, then practically pushing her up the servants’ stairs.

“Wait! I should go back.”

He reached around her and pushed the door open onto a darkened balcony.

Honor stepped cautiously onto the balcony that overlooked the entrance below. She glanced around; it was dark, but there were couples walking about. Across the space she could see a pair of lovers, their arms entwined around each other. “Oh, no,” she said, but Easton had already grabbed her hand and tugged her to stand behind a big display of chain mail. He slipped in behind her.

She twisted about in that crowded space and frantically swiped at a cobweb that touched her hair. Easton was standing so close that she could feel the heat of his body. “What in blazes are you doing?” she demanded.

“Removing some of the innocence from you,” he said, and grabbed her waist with both hands as he kissed her.

Honor was so taken aback, she slammed her fists against him. He lifted his head. “Bloody hell, I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

Oh, God, so had she. “Are you mad?” she whispered hotly. “What if we are discovered?”