Chapter Two

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Lady Noelle Parrish could not stop thinking about the handsome man she had met earlier in the day; it had been quite an accident really. It was an unusually sunny spring day, and after having been cooped up in the house for the better part of the week, Noelle had been anxious to get out and partake of some fresh air and feel the sunshine on her face. She had convinced her lady's maid, Hope, to accompany her on a brisk walk, grabbing a bonnet as she eagerly exited the townhouse in Mayfair she inhabited during the season with her father, Lord Brattondale .

She had been clumsily attempting to tie her bonnet in place as she vigorously walked down the road, Hope trailing in her wake, when she felt herself colliding into a solid mass. Noelle gasped, taking a sudden step back away from the object, when she felt two strong hands encircle her upper arms. Even through the thick spencer she was wearing, she felt the warmth of those strong hands and an odd tingling sensation accompanying the warmth. She focused her eyes on an expertly tied cravat, white as freshly fallen snow. She vaguely remembered hearing a low chuckle before looking up into the most striking green eyes she had ever seen, causing her to inhale sharply.

"Pardon me miss," the man said, his rich voice soothing and distracting at the same time. She could tell by his accent that he was an American.

Noelle reached up to straighten her bonnet before speaking. "My apologies sir, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"I can't say that I mind." The stranger smiled a radiant smile that caused flutters in the pit of her stomach. Reaching for her hand, he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist. "I'm Soren Johanssen from Boston. Pleased to meet you."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Noelle Parrish."

From somewhere behind her she heard Hope clear her throat. "That would be Lady Noelle."

Noelle rolled her eyes, not sure she cared to have her maid inform this untitled American of proprieties. There was something exciting about not having to bend to the rules of society and being able to be just plain Noelle for once. She looked back into Soren's handsome face. "How long are you in London, Mr. Johanssen?"

He looked into her eyes before slowly perusing the rest of her body. When his eyes finally rested back on her face, his own face held a look of satisfaction. "Not nearly long enough it would seem, My Lady."

Noelle felt her cheeks heat at his words but couldn't help her own forwardness, "Well then, Soren," it felt deliciously naughty to call a man by his Christian name, especially one she had only just met. "I sincerely hope that I see you again." She looked down coyly before rewarding him with a stunning grin of her own.

"As do I, Noelle," he replied, purposely leaving off the Lady. She knew it was wishful thinking to assume she'd ever have the opportunity to see him again. With him being an American, she knew the chances of seeing him at any society event was extremely limited, but still it had been fun to flirt with the handsome man with chestnut hair and startling green eyes the color of a spring leaf.

As if sensing her thoughts he leaned in close, his voice just louder than a whisper, "I hear the ices at Gunter's are refreshing on a sunny day. I may just have to find out for myself tomorrow afternoon, if the weather holds."

Was he implying what she thought he was implying? She held her breath, not daring to hope that he had been suggesting she meet him at Gunter's, for fear of those hopes being dashed. The thought of seeing him again made her heart beat with anticipation. She must have taken too long to reply because he straightened and said, "You do like ices don't you, Noelle?"

"But of course. In fact, I think tomorrow afternoon might be the perfect time to enjoy one." She couldn't believe she had just slyly agreed to meet him. Before she had the chance to back out, he winked at her discreetly, then bowed slightly.

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