Mary realized she could not tell her friend of her plans. She did not want Victoria to know until it was too late to stop her. Once she had found a position and the arrangements had been made, it would be too late for discussion.
She was saved from having to hide her churning thoughts by the arrival of the two men. Mary’s gaze went directly to Ian Sinclair as if drawn there by some inescapable force. She saw that the tall, dark man was also looking at her. She blushed and glanced away. Goodness, but he was every bit as handsome as she remembered, and more. The midnight blue of his perfectly tailored jacket and trousers fully accentuated his height, the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. The crisp white of his shirt collar made his hair look even darker by contrast.
Her gaze flicked briefly to him again and she saw that he was still studying her, with those onyx dark eyes narrowed. As their gazes clashed for that brief moment he lifted one black brow high.
Heat suffused her. Was he remembering the fact that she had so abruptly asked him to leave her home and was now staring at him like some besotted fool?
Quickly Mary turned her attention to Jedidiah McBride as he said, “Good evening, Mary.”
She nodded. “Good evening.” Mary was genuinely fond of the American and felt he had been good for her friend.
He then came forward and kissed his wife on the cheek. Victoria was smiling at her tall, golden-haired husband with love. “How is the mare?”
Jedidiah laughed, the corners of his sea green eyes crinkling. “Settling in, but frisky. I think you’ll get plenty of excitement out of her when you can ride again. Ian has produced a mare worth every pound of her exorbitant price.”
Mary was infinitely aware of Ian Sinclair as he bowed and nodded modestly. Beneath his reticence she could tell he was proud of the horse they were discussing, as a parent might be of a praised child. His obvious fraternal affection for the animal surprised her and Mary realized there were many things about Ian Sinclair that she did not know.
What kind of father would he be, she wondered?
As soon as the thought entered her mind, Mary dismissed it. How Ian Sinclair might parent was not her concern.
Ian felt Mary Fulton’s gaze rake him again, but this time he did not look at her. She’d made her feelings quite well known when she’d asked him to leave her house. And in all honesty, Ian could not truly blame her for resenting his interference in her affairs. He had as yet been incapable of coming up with any reasonable explanation for why he was so very interested in what she did with her life. He’d tried to convince himself it was because he knew how much Victoria cared for the other woman, but somehow it did not ring true.
Before Ian could stop it an image of Victoria’s horrified face as she had listened to him talk about her friend flooded his mind. He clearly heard the discouraging words she’d said to him about his father’s sure disapproval of his wedding a vicar’s daughter.
Ian’s lips thinned. To even contemplate the notion of marrying a woman simply because his father would be displeased was despicable. It was true that part of his desire to marry Victoria had been brought on by knowing she would greatly irritate the earl. But she had been one of his social class, the daughter of a duke. Mary was not. Not only his father but all of society would frown on such a union.
Unconsciously he found himself studying her again. She was looking quite delectable in a gown of rose satin. The dress was of the latest fashion and showed off her tiny waist above her wide hooped skirt, not to mention a bewitching hint of cleavage. She was without a doubt the most delectable morsel of womanhood he had seen in some time. There was no denying the attraction he felt toward her.
Yet what he had learned of Mary over the past days had taught him that she deserved better than he could offer. From what he’d seen of her, she had a quick mind and a strong spirit that prevented her from bowing to anyone. Ian could not but admire that, for it answered a like place within himself. He had spent most of the years of his adulthood flouting convention. It was what had earned him the appellation of “Lord Sin.” But that was all behind him now, and fortunate that, for he might not have been able to resist the temptation to seduce the lovely Miss Fulton despite his assurances to Victoria.
His resistance to his desire was made doubly hard by her own reactions to him. For in spite of her anger toward him, he was not blind to the fact that Mary was not immune to him. Ian had experienced the charms of enough women to know mutual passion when he experienced it. Her response to his kiss, though brief and untutored, had been apparent Her desire needed only a gentle and sensitive hand to call it to the fore.
Ian drew himself up and forced himself to concentrate on the conversation Jedidiah was having with his wife. He would not allow himself to think of Mary Fulton in any but the most appropriate of terms.
It was all he, with any honor, could do.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the servant who announced that dinner was ready to be served. Ian watched as Jedidiah offered Victoria his arm.
Mary stood and came forward with them. Ian told himself that his recent feelings for this young woman precluded his doing the polite thing and offering his own arm. But as she moved toward him, Mary glanced up from beneath the fringe of those thick dark lashes, her golden eyes uncertain. When she saw that he, too, was looking at her, she raised her head high.
He could not help thinking of the way he had found her that afternoon, quaking with terror on the bell tower steps. She was such a strange mixture of strength and softness, this Mary Fulton.
Without even realizing he was going to do so, Ian held out his arm. “May I?”
She hesitated, and Ian had to make an effort to hold back his annoyance. Why was he so drawn to this woman when she seemed to resent him despite the attraction she had not been able to hide? Could it be because she was the exact opposite of his cousin Barbara, who would never openly disagree with anything he said or did, as Mary was quite willing to do?
Finally she nodded, then reached out to place her hand on his arm. As she did so he was struck by a jolt of piercingly sweet awareness that moved from her to him. A delicately floral scent rose from her hair and Ian found himself wanting to take it down from the loose bun she wore, to see the glorious golden mass draped across her shoulders and naked…
He stopped in his tracks. What in God’s name was he thinking here?
Mary looked up at him in question. “My lord.”
He could see that Victoria had already reached the doorway that led to the dining room across the foyer. He had indeed been lost in thought. Knowing that Mary would be completely shocked to know what he had been thinking, Ian did not meet her puzzled gaze. “I beg your pardon. I fear I was not attending.”
He made no comment on her suddenly closed expression. Releasing his arm and stepping away from him, she said, “I will leave you to your thoughts, then.”
Ian nearly reached out to stop her, but he drew his hand back. He told himself that it was much better for both of them if she was annoyed with him. Hadn’t he promised Victoria that he would not seduce her? Hadn’t he promised himself?
As he had told himself before, Mary deserved better than that.
Victoria was watching him closely as he entered the elegantly furnished chamber behind the others. She raised her dark brows high as she glanced pointedly from Ian to Mary, who was already seated.
He quirked a brow in return, wondering how she would react to the turn of his thoughts.
Jedidiah interrupted this silent exchange. “Please be seated, Ian.” He indicated the empty chair directly across from the vicar’s daughter.
As he took his designated place, she flicked a glance toward him and Ian saw again that Mary was