For a moment, it seemed she might snatch it back, but after a brief hesitation she settled her gloved fingers on his forearm. Yet her annoyance broke over him in waves. He swam in dangerous waters. He’d behaved despicably last night, and she had every right to be angry with him. Geoffrey glanced over at Miss Claremont—Liliana. He’d kissed the woman. He might as well make free with her name. She looked straight ahead, tension creasing the corners of her pursed lips. If she pressed them much harder, they would quickly turn as blue as the muslin caressing her bosom. In his experience, a piqued woman was a volatile one. He had no wish to face his mother should Liliana work herself up to accusing him of ungentlemanly conduct, witness or no. He was half surprised she hadn’t already. Now he intended to find out if she meant to. Geoffrey placed his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm. “We both know ill health is not what kept you from breakfast this morning. You look far too becoming to be indisposed,”
