Promo- Eulogy's Secret - (U excerpt) Jack finds he has a weakness.....
- Join Jack As He Discovers He Has An Unexpected Weakness .
"Anyhow, calling twice in twenty-four hours? Tongues will wag." Flouncing ahead, Mrs Parker glanced over her shoulder and winked. "Come along now. What are you waiting for? Your ward is in the kitchen."
"She's not my ward." Huntley bristled.
"Well, who or whatever Miss Foster is or isn't, the girl is a veritable angel."
"Really?" A prickle of discomfort played over his skin.
"Judge for yourself." Her thumb rested on the kitchen latch. "Ready?"
"Of course." He scowled, "Why would I not be?"
"No reason." Mrs. Parker smiled mischievously. "No reason at all."
The door swung open on a cozy kitchen. Jack knew the scene well; the dresser laden with crockery and painted jugs, coppers glinting on the mantle shelf and a vase of hyacinths on the table. Assured as he was, Jack Huntley was woefully unprepared as a shaft of spring sunlight fell across Miss Foster's flawless complexion. Her hair, which the previous night had been concealed beneath an ugly bonnet, lay plaited over her shoulder in a glossy chestnut rope. But most staggering of all was her eyes, wide eyes of deep velvet brown that were at that precise moment regarding him warily. It was as if he'd been punched in the chest. Merciful heavens, what was wrong with him?
Jack's default façade of nonchalance served him well, as he managed a cool bow.
"Miss Foster, I trust you slept well." A muscle in his jaw twitched. He longed to stare, every fiber of his body riveted on this beautiful woman in a dowdy dress. His hand itched, subconsciously stroking the peachy ripeness of her pink cheek. Her remarkable eyes opened wider as she blushed, delightfully.
"I slept tolerably sir, thank you."
Huntley couldn't recall the last time he'd seen such a vision. The reason for his visit flew out of his head and an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Miss Foster weakened first, lowering her eyes to pluck at that brown sack of a dress, but nonetheless, there was a dignity in her bearing that caused sympathy to soften Huntley's mood.
He recalled his wits and scowled.
"Sir?" Her voice was soft, with a faint country accent. "I thank you sincerely for your actions yesterday evening. Without your intervention, goodness only knows what would have become of me. Thank you."
It took more strength that a boxing round at Gentleman Jackson's to fashion a reply.
"I was glad to be of assistance." He was almost completely drunk on the sweep of her dark lashes. "No doubt you wish to be reunited with your acquaintance, as soon as possible," he said gruffly.
Miss Foster grew pale and that puzzled him .