Curiosity would indeed kill the cat.
The man frowned, deep lines setting in his face. “Who are you? Besides a man who gets drunk enough to pass out in a snowdrift?”
Well, decision time had come. Did Dash tell him the truth or did he lie? Could he meet his little nymph without revealing to her that he was a duke? “I’m the Baron of Blitzencreek among other things.”
The butler took a half step back, his eyes widening. Dash had a moment’s satisfaction as the man tried and failed to utter a coherent sentence. He was Blitzencreek to be fair. It was one of his lesser titles. Hopefully the low rank and his drunkenness ensured the family did not seek a match but allowed him to meet his snow angel properly, then thank her, and see one more time if she was as lovely as he remembered.
“Once you are dressed, you may join Lady Noelle in the front parlor.” Mr. Clark spun on heel and left the room.
Dash gulped down the rest of his tea and stuffed several crackers into his mouth. Then he rose to dress. His body ached and his head still swam, but he wouldn’t miss this meeting for all the world. Would she be as enchanting as his fuzzy memory had painted her to be?
Noelle steadied her rapid breath and smoothed her skirts around her as she waited in Aunt Winifred’s favorite parlor. When Mr. Clark informed her that their guest, the Baron of Blitzencreek, wished to meet with her, she’d nodded regally and pretended that she was not turning cartwheels inside.
And then she’d fled upstairs to her room to check her hair. And then she’d changed.
In and out of three different gowns.
He was a Baron. Her pulse jumped. How absolutely magnificent. It was almost as though everything that had happened last night may have been an answer to her prayers.
She burst to her feet when a knock sounded, effectively cutting off her train of thought.
“Lord Blitzencreek, Miss Noelle.” Mr. Clark allowed the baron to enter and then removed himself from the room. Noelle frowned when she saw that he’d left the door partially ajar.
But when she turned back to greet the Baron, all thoughts of Mr. Clark fled.
Lord Blitzencreek was much taller than she’d remembered. Of course, she’d known he was big—so big that she’d barely managed to get his person to the front door of her aunt’s house, but she’d not realized that he was also so very…
Imposing.
Yes. That word described him quite accurately. She tilted her head back and studied his hair. Last night she’d run her fingers through the thick, ebony strands. Her gaze trailed down to his face. He must have borrowed one of Mr. Clark’s razors as his chin was now clean and stark, revealing a definitively strong jawline.
And then she was staring at his lips. Those lips that she’d––
“Lady Noelle?” His voice halted her inspection of him.
His eyes were blue, such a dark-colored blue that they almost appeared black. She hadn’t noticed that before. She blinked, needing to escape from the intensity of his scrutiny.
“Please sit down, my lord.” And why would she have noticed his eyes? It had been dark outside and he’d been passed out most of the time. She gestured for him to sit in one of the larger chairs and lowered herself onto the settee across from it.
“I hope you are feeling much improved from last night,” she offered, pinning her gaze to the top button of his jacket. Gold, with an elegant “D” in the center. What did the D stand for? Surely not Blitzencreek.
“Quite.” He answered in an even tone that revealed little.
“I’m glad to hear it. You were out cold.” Noelle added, finally garnering enough courage to meet his eyes. “I rather took you for dead at first.”
In answer, he blinked twice, drawing her attention again to his lovely lashes. “Going outside in the storm like that was the height of stupidity. I beg your forgiveness. If I hadn’t dipped into my cups so egregiously, you would not have had to risk yourself by leaving your home to help me.”
“It was—”
“Although, you ought to have sent out a servant, rather than risk the storm yourself. You put yourself in a good deal of danger, Lady Noelle. You’re fortunate I wasn’t a dodgy sort of fellow.”
“You’re lucky I suffer from insomnia,” she inserted when he finally took a breath. “Are you always this condescending to people who save your life?”
He grinned and shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.” His eyes seemed a shade lighter when he smiled. He was teasing her now. She had expected his abject gratitude and he was giving her…
This.
She pinched her lips to keep from grinning back.
“You do value your life, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” He sat up straight.
“So you weren’t attempting to snuff it out?”
“Of course not.”
“In that case,” Noelle turned her head to seemingly contemplate the snow-covered lawn and shrubbery and trees. “I would have thought you’d show a tad more gratitude.”
For ten whole seconds, all she heard after that was the ticking of the clock.
She would have preferred to smile at him, and flirt with him for a few minutes first, but she might only have one opportunity to accomplish that which she’d set out to do. This was no time to give into an inconvenient attraction. And although she felt rather sorry for him, neither could she afford to go easy on him.
She turned to meet his gaze, cocking one eyebrow as she awaited his answer. She’d practiced doing that for hours. Her father used to do it to her mother and she’d seen it accomplish wonders.
“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?” He cocked one of his own eyebrows back in return.
Noelle grimaced. “Are you?”
He nodded, unsmiling, although she might have seen one corner of his mouth jump. “I shall be eternally grateful to you, Lady Noelle, for saving my sorry person from a most ignoble death. If there is anything, anything at all that I can do to repay you, you must bring it to my attention at once.”
And there it was.
Noelle tapped a finger against her chin. “Actually…”
He sighed. “Except for that.”
“But you just said—!”
“Yes, well. I lied. Name anything but that. I absolutely refuse to marry.”
At his outright refusal before she’d even been able to suggest it, Noelle pouted. “Don’t you think your life is equal in value to an offer of matrimony?”
He shrugged. “Not to me.” He held her gaze and she refused to look away in defeat.
“Are you not a man of honor?”
At these words, a slight inkling of discomfort entered the back of his midnight blue eyes.
“Surely, you are in want of something else, something just as valuable. I promise you, I’d make a sorry excuse for a husband.” He even looked a little apologetic by now. Noelle deepened her pout. “I shouldn’t have asked you to kiss me. It was unforgivable, really.”
“It really was.” She agreed. But she had liked it. Her eyes flicked to his lips and he grinned at her again. “Quite,” she added for good measure. Because this meeting and the boon she wished to collect wasn’t about her. She’d have to find some other kissable lips on some other gentleman.