Tempting a Gentleman Smith, Ann (best novels to read in english .TXT) 📖

referring to him by his Christian name. Emma, what are you not telling me?”

“I’m not the one keeping secrets from their best friend.”

“I should never have taught you the art of counter-arguments. You are far too good at them.” Bronwyn poured the tea and handed Emma her cup.

Accepting the warm drink, Emma pondered Christopher’s reasons for continuing the dance lessons. Likely he was afraid of informing Lord Hadfield he’d failed as a dance master. Emma snorted at the thought he simply wished to see her again. To kiss her once more.

“Emma Lennox, whatever it is you are thinking, I caution you to act with care.”

Bronwyn was right. She’d have to keep her fanciful thoughts in line and keep her head out of the clouds. Christopher Neale’s lessons were for one purpose only—to ensure Emma wouldn’t make a fool of herself at Bronwyn’s debut ball.

Chapter Six

Christopher’s hands rose from the ivory keys as the last notes of the haunting and somber piece reverberated through his body. He’d specifically chosen the monstrosity of a townhouse as his bachelor lodging for its proximity to Neale & Sons offices and the music room that accommodated his grand piano. The musical instrument was his first purchase that had no other purpose but his own pleasure.

In Landon’s first year as earl, Christopher had dutifully overseen the renovations to the dilapidated townhome his brother had inherited and had remained until Bronwyn’s arrival. After living at Hadfield townhouse, surrounded by dwellings owned by other hereditary lords for two long years, he finally had extracted himself from the prying eyes of the ton. The move to his own lodging hadn’t come soon enough for his taste. Raised in a modest residence befitting their papa’s station as a well-respected barrister, Christopher chose the lower west end of London, closer to their childhood neighborhood.

Playing and composing always eased his mind and assisted him in sorting out his often tumultuous emotions. His dealings with Emma were unsettling. Her self-assured demeanor both captivated and confounded him. He speculated that she too questioned her place in life. As the natural daughter of the current Lord Hereford’s grandfather, she was half-aunt to Lady Arabelle. As presumptive heir to Landon’s title, Christopher was left questioning his position in the world. Not a peer. A gentleman stuck in between two worlds—that of the working gentry and the ton. Required to attend countless mind-numbing social events amid lords and ladies, Christopher had begun seeking out the kind, sweet Lady Arabelle. Forging a bond of friendship with the lady had been relatively easy. And while he had considered proposing marriage, he never once experienced the skin tingling, heart-thumping sensations Emma had evoked during their two brief meetings. Emma emitted an undercurrent of energy that sparked emotions he had previously only believed existed in poetry. It was these rampaging feelings that had led him to devise an elaborate plan for this eve’s dance lesson. Plans that required his mama’s assistance.

The chime of the longcase clock from the adjacent drawing room marked the time for him to prepare for his mama and Emma’s arrival. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he stretched out his back with hands clasped above his head. But the excitement of seeing Emma again awakened every nerve in his body. The patter of his mama’s quick, decisive steps approaching had him closing his eyes and sending a prayer up to his maker that by the end of the evening, Emma would be a willing participant in the lessons and as eager to see him as he was to see her again. He opened his eyes as the music room doors opened.

Christopher stood and crossed the room to greet his guests.

His mama placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled his face down to meet hers. “Dear boy, you work too hard. You’re looking rather weary.” She patted his cheek with her right hand and then turned to Emma. “Never fear, we shall practice the waltz tonight. Perhaps the less vigorous French version.”

Emma nodded. Her pale yellow gown complemented her eyes, making them appear more green than blue this evening. As his mama made her way to the pianoforte, he bowed and asked, “May I have this dance?”

Emma placed her hand in his. “Since I won’t have been formally introduced to the gentlemen at the ball, I suppose I’ll only have to agree to dance with you.”

Straightening to his full height, he smiled. Oddly, her statement evoked feelings of both sympathy and possessiveness simultaneously. “I am certain there will be a great number of men seeking an introduction, and I wager your dance card will be filled within an hour of your arrival.”

“Why?”

His mama tapped upon a few keys. “Wonderful.” She smiled and captured his full attention. “I was worried you spent too much time in the office and had neglected this beauty. Shall we begin?” Without waiting for a reply, she began playing a Mozart-inspired melody.

Emma was the first to act. Under the layers of clothing, his skin tingled as her free hand moved up his chest, along the top of his shoulder, behind his neck. Her movements halted.

“Ye are too tall. Me arm…” Emma withdrew and pulled back, waving her freed hands in the air. “Yer drawings showed the woman’s arm…”

Christopher chuckled. “I apologize; my illustrations did not account for the variance in our heights. We shall have to make modifications.”

The music stopped, and his mama asked, “What are the two of you chattering about?” She rose and strode to stand before him and Emma. “I’ll not be sitting over there playing my heart out while you two squabble. Now, what is the matter?”

“Yer son’s instructions were all wrong,” Emma answered before he could. She was fast to act and straight to the point. It was a refreshing quality in a woman.

His mama turned to face him. “Pray explain?”

“I merely provided Emma with a few drawings of the various positions we will assume while...”

His mama’s raised eyebrows made him pause. “Is that so?” His mama was the