The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)

He meant for the words to sting, just enough to put her off him, but they didn’t seem to. They seemed to glide right past her. Indeed, she smiled. “I don’t believe I asked to be seduced, Mr. Calhoun.”

He was a bull, and she was a stunning red flag. He couldn’t have stopped himself from approaching her for all the world. “Of course you have,” he said. “You ask every time you look at me.”

“You mistake flirting for desire, sir.”

“I don’t mistake your bold flirt for anything but what it is, Sesily Talbot.”

She lifted her chin, exposing a millimeter more skin. Tempting him with it. “And what is that? Diversion?”

He let a beat go by as he watched this girl who had never in her life faced a proper man. “Disguise.”

He’d shocked her. She uncrossed her arms and came off the coach, unsettled by him. By his ability to see the truth. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean you’re a flirt, Sesily, and a good one, too. Most people don’t see what you are when you’re not full of swagger.”

“And you do?”

“I do,” he said. “I recognize it.”

She blinked. Laughed, bold enough for a lesser man not to hear the nervousness in it. “What do you recognize, Caleb Calhoun? An unwillingness to compromise?”

“An unwillingness to risk.”

She narrowed her gaze. “You don’t know much about me, if you think I do not risk. I’ve done nothing but risk since I had my first season. I’m a scandal for the ages.”

“Nah, you’re only a scandal because they don’t see that you’re the least scandalous of the lot.”

Her brows rose high. “Never tell a Talbot sister she’s not scandalous, sir. You risk us taking offense.”

He smiled. “I’ve spent three years with Seraphina, love. I know the truth. You wear your pretty clothes and talk your clever talk, but when it comes down to it, you want one thing. And it’s not what you want me to think it is.”

Her lips pressed into a straight line. “I do so like it when a man tells me about myself. It’s positively aphrodisiacal.”

“I’m an American, my lady. Don’t flummox me with all your big words.”

Her eyes flashed with humor then. “Shall I tell you what I think about you, then, Calhoun? Never fear. I shall use small words so you understand.”

No.

He didn’t want her telling him anything. They’d already taken this too far. Sera would have his balls if he even touched her. She’d burn the Sparrow to the ground just to keep him from getting his cut. And then she’d hire herself a ship to take her to Boston and do the same to every property he owned there.

The thing was, it might be worth it.

He was so distracted by how well it might be worth losing everything for one moment with Sesily Talbot that he forgot to tell her to stop talking.

“I think you’re here with my sister—in the country, I might add, which is positively dull as dirt, which you know, because you flee to London every night to breathe in the glorious stench of adventure—because being with Sera keeps you safe.”

His heart began to pound. “Being with your sister keeps me in constant threat of being pummeled by your brother-in-law.”

“That may be true,” Sesily said. “But better feel any number of fists upon your face than feel something truly dangerous.”

He’d had enough of her. “And you’re an expert on the subject?”

“On avoiding emotion? I am, rather.” He didn’t know what to say to that. “And on the day one awakens to discover that their future is set.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You are a child.”

“I am twenty-seven years old. Unmarriageable for many reasons, the least of which is scandal and the worst of which is my tragic descent into old age.”

If that wasn’t some British nonsense, he did not know what was. Sesily Talbot couldn’t take a step down a Boston street without half a dozen men making eyes at her. Even the thought sent Caleb into a fury.

He was done with this. “Well. This has been entertaining, Sesily, but—”

“You and Sera make an excellent pair. Both terrified of what might come if you actually worked for something.”

He scowled. “You know nothing about me.”

She raised a brow. “I know you’re a coward, American.”

She was baiting him. He knew it, and still he wanted to prove himself to her. He wanted to do more than that. He wanted to throw her into the carriage and show her precisely how lacking in cowardice he was.

Instead, he opened the coach door to throw his bag into the carriage.

Only to be attacked by a violent white projectile.

“What in—” He leapt backward, the furred beast apparently not realizing that he’d ceded the carriage, as it clung to his coat with a mighty yowl.

Which was when he realized that Sesily was laughing. And that it sounded like fucking sin. Until that precise moment, Caleb would not have imagined that it was possible to simultaneously be attacked by a cat and go hard as a rock.

But Sesily Talbot was the kind of woman who taught a man things, that much was clear. Including how infuriated he could get.

He grabbed for the animal as it began to scale him like a tree trunk, and Sesily instantly gasped, “No! Don’t hurt him!”

And then she was close enough to touch him. And then she was touching him. If one could claim claw removal as touching. Which Caleb was finding he had to do, considering how the gentle movements and the soothing tuts she offered the little beast made him want to claw something himself.

He had to get away from her.

Which was difficult, as he had a cat attached to him.

Finally, she cradled the animal in her arms, and, from beyond the edge of his jealousy of the damn creature, Caleb heard the smile in her voice. “He likes you.”

He met her gaze. I like you.

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to say that. So he settled on, “Mmm. And why is he in my carriage?”

She lifted one shoulder and dropped it, her lips twisting in amusement. “In my advancing years, sometimes I forget where I leave things.”

This woman was trouble. The kind for which he did not have time or inclination. “So this was your plan? Set your cat upon me and hope for the best?”

She blinked, wide blue eyes making him want to kiss her without consequence. That was the problem, however. There would definitely be consequence. “Is it working?”

“No.” Too much consequence. He put his bag in the carriage and closed the door. “Old maid or not, Lady Sesily, you want love. And I know better than to get anywhere near that. With or without your attack cat.”