A Beastly Kind of Earl (Longhope Abbey, #1)

by Mia Vincy

Merchant: Oi! Miss! My daughter. Don’t I say something to help her? Narrator: No. You don’t say anything. You hide in the crowd. Crowd: What? Actors: What? Merchant: [looking around, bewildered] But she’s just standing there, with these toffs telling filthy lies. Where’s her family? These people are saying shameful things, and she’s all alone. Narrator: Yes, she is, isn’t she?

🥺

His chest and shoulders were vast and his arms looked strong. Perfect for hugging, really. How selfish of him not to invite closeness. Surely it was his civic duty as an earl to offer a hug to any citizen who required one. Starting with her.

“Because it hurts, sometimes, and it’s nice to take away the pain,” he murmured. “Do you ever hurt, Countess?” “Sometimes,” she whispered, mesmerized. “Poor Countess.” He released her face and she missed his touch immediately, but before she could react, he slid his arms around her and enfolded her against him, exactly as she had longed for him to do. He might be mad or dangerous or drunk or anything, but she didn’t care. He was holding her, and she wanted nothing else.

Inside the greenhouse, Thea looked at the plants, and Rafe looked at Thea. “Yes, yes.” She nodded knowledgeably, in that way she had when she didn’t know a thing. “Yes, I see.” “What do you see, precisely?” he asked. She frowned, as though he had posed a complex and important scientific problem. “I see…plants. Definitely plants. And if I might offer my expert opinion?” “Please do.” “They are…green.” “They are very green,” he agreed solemnly. “It seems I have nothing left to teach you.”

😂

“Swim with me. Right now.” “My gown…” “Leave it on. Take it off. I don’t care.” She caught a droplet hanging from his hair. “Swimming fully clothed… That seems rather impulsive.” “It won’t be impulsive if you keep bloody talking about it.” “You are so grumpy.” “I am not.” But he was smiling. Properly smiling, dimple and all. Thea slid an arm around his neck and gave him her weight. He lifted her down into the water, blessedly cool against her hot, tormented skin.

“No!” She pushed away from him and lost her balance. He caught her and steadied her, before the water and hurt could carry her away. “You know my name. Use my name.” “Then it will truly end.” Again, he was right. Her name would be like the magic word that ended an enchantment. No more pretending. They would have to retreat behind the barriers of propriety and outrage and opposition. She had thought they were enemies, and then they were not, and now they would be adversaries again. “Say it,” she whispered. “Thea.”

It was open at the entry on jaguars. That, too, made his heart ache: the thought of Thea, sitting alone, reading about giant cats because she wanted to know more and he would not tell her.

The heroine would seek to free the man in the lake from his curse and overthrow the evil sorcerer. And when the man was freed, he would take the brave, beautiful heroine in his arms and promise her— Nothing. Rafe wanted her, but not enough. Because no one ever wanted her enough.

Helplessly, Rafe’s eyes sought Thea. Their gazes wove together, and it was all he could do not to cross the room and lay his head in her lap.

“I must leave tomorrow, if I am to distribute my pamphlets before the Prince Regent’s costume party. So never fear, I shall no longer be such a trial for you, my lord.” “You are no trial.” “No, since you never see me. I suppose, in your mind, I am already gone.” “You are never gone from my mind.”

“Oh so help me,” he groaned into the wood. “I miss her so bloody much.” A gentle hand squeezed his shoulder. Rafe sat back up and stared at the bishop. “I’ve done this all wrong, haven’t I?” “You did the best you knew how at the time.” “But what if I’ve lost her? What if she needs my help and I’m not there? Anything could be happening in London and I’m not bloody well there.”

Duhhhhh