by Amelia Grey
When their gazes met again, he said, “Now it’s your turn to tell me what you’re thinking.”
There was no command in his voice. There didn’t have to be. His intent showed in the way his eyes took in every detail of her face. He knew she enjoyed the kiss but he wanted to hear her say it. It seemed his breathing was a little unsteady, too, and she wondered if he had felt all the amazing things that had swirled inside her.
“That it was inevitable I would eventually have my first kiss.”
He nodded. “Was it pleasurable?”
Oh, yes!
The intensity of his gaze continued to do confounding things to her heart rate. She thought about evading the truth, possibly even prevaricating, but knowing she’d never been any good at hiding her true emotions in the end she simply said, “Yes, and for you?”
His brow rose as if her question surprised him. “Very much.”
“Tell me, my lord, did you come here today just to kiss me?”
“No.”
“Then why did you kiss me?”’
“You asked me to.”
“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” she said firmly. “You know I did no such thing.”
“I beg to differ, Miss Rule. When I looked at you, your eyes were asking me to kiss you. They were saying, Kiss me, Harrison.”
The glowing light of humor shone in his eyes and she realized he was teasing her. That helped her relax. It was best to make light of the kiss since it never should have happened. And maybe that would make it seem less powerful than it actually was.
She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “That’s the oddest thing I’ve heard you say,” she replied pleasantly. “Besides the fact that it’s not true.”
“How do you know? You can’t see your eyes.”
“But they are my eyes, and I know because they wouldn’t have called you Harrison. They would have said my lord.”
The corner of one side of his mouth lifted attractively. “Your eyes know me better than your mind. They call me Harrison.”
She appreciated that he was still trying to put her at ease about the very intimate kiss. Even so, she said, “I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”
“I can. We also had one about a horse a few nights ago. I believe I won that round as well.”
That made her smile. “We will not revisit the discussion of me and the horse.”
“I agree, and just in case you want to know, I’m reading your eyes again right now, Miss Rule, and right now they are saying, Kiss me again, Harrison.”
His confidence, his audacity amazed her. The low husky way he said the words made her abdomen tighten, and she wanted to step back into the circle of his arms.
“No,” she said, putting more distance between them for fear her resolve not to kiss him again might weaken. “No, they are saying it’s time for you to go. I understand that you haven’t decided whether you will help me save my father from prison. That’s fine. The kiss is the only other thing you have accomplished since arriving and my education in that area is now completed. I need no further instruction.”
A hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth again. “Then perhaps I should put your mind at ease, Miss Rule. As far as your father is concerned, I will pretend that we will be wed at the end of the Season, and your father can lead his creditors to believe the same. You will have the time you asked for to come up with another way to keep your father out of prison.”
On a rush of excited breath, she whispered, “Thank you, Lord Thornwick. Though I’m sure you don’t want my gratitude, I give it. This indeed puts my mind to rest.”
He reached down, picked up her shawl, and held it out for her. This time instead of turning so he could place it on her shoulders, she pulled it from his grasp.
He gave her a roguish grin and asked, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I want from you for doing this noble deed?”
Oh, my. She should have known there would be something.
“Yes, of course.” She looked at the tall, broad-shouldered man poised commandingly in front of her and asked, “Do you want more kisses from me?”
He laughed and folded his arms across his chest in a casual manner. “As tempting an offer as that is, kisses are not something I have ever had to bargain for.”
Angelina cringed inside over that mistake. “Of course you haven’t. I don’t know what I was thinking. Surely a man like you doesn’t actually need anything and that includes kisses.”
“But I do occasionally want things. I’m sure I will come up with something, and I’ll let you know when I do.”
“Something reasonable,” she added.
He lifted a brow. “That I can’t promise. Tell me, did you and the officer you mentioned have an understanding that you would wait for him and marry him when he returned?”
“No. We never spoke of marriage. It was, it was—”
“What?”
She felt her eyes and face soften. Her shoulders relaxed. “More in the way we looked at each other.”
“Ah,” he said.
“Ah? What does that mean?” she asked.
“It means I understand it was a feeling that happened between the two of you rather than a promise given.”
“Yes, that’s right,” she agreed. “I told you, we only spoke briefly for a few times. It wouldn’t have been proper for us to spend any time together. The last time I saw him, he asked me to save him a dance and I told him I would.”
Lord Thornwick seemed to study on that for a moment and then nodded. “Will you be attending the parties tonight?”
“Yes. We’ll end the night at the Great Hall.”
“Then I’ll see you there and we’ll dance.”
“But you don’t like to dance.”
“There are times we all must do things we would rather not do. Dancing, rides in the park, and afternoon walks in your garden should satisfy your father—” He paused. “—and other interested people that I’m actively pursuing you in the hope of making a match by Season’s end.”
The earl looked around, whistled and called, “Sam,” then whistled again.
The dog came running out from under a bush near the back gate. He stopped at Lord Thornwick’s feet, looked up at him, and barked once.
“Good job taking care of your mistress,” he said, reaching down to pat the dog’s shoulder. “I’ll see myself out the back gate. Until tonight, Miss Rule.”
Angelina watched the earl leave.
He’d kissed her. She’d kissed him and enjoyed it tremendously.
Her first kiss? An unexpected glorious experience. How could that be when she loved Captain Maxwell?
Lord Thornwick had arrived at her home with no advance notice, for no particular reason, and suddenly he was kissing her. Kissing her ever so gently with such slow tenderness it was heavenly, and then with such deliberate, intimate passion it stole her breath. She had always thought a devilish rogue’s kiss would be harsh, horrible, and demanding. How could she have been so wrong about that? Lord Thornwick had taken his time and gently coaxed and then encouraged her to respond to him, and she had.
With eagerness!
And merciful heavens, she hadn’t wanted it to end!
She knew he was known far and wide for being a scoundrel of the highest order. And now she knew why. What kind of gentleman kissed a young lady with so much feeling she thought she would melt? What kind of lady allowed him to do it! Especially after she’d already told him her heart belonged to another.
“Heaven help me,” she groaned out loud. “Evidently I am that kind of lady.”
As much as she wished she could deny the earl’s effect on her, she had to admit she had enjoyed his embrace from beginning to end. He had an easy charm about him that was infectious and irresistible. Everything he’d made her feel was inappropriate. She should have felt defenseless, coerced, or maybe even used, but all she felt was wondrous pleasure. She had loved the feel of being in his arms, his lips on hers. The soft silky soun
ds of pleasure they made had wafted past her ears. The clean smell of shaving soap that clung to his face was inviting. He had touched her deeply and awakened her senses even more than Captain Maxwell had when she’d first seen him look up at her with his dreamy eyes and smile.
Angelina shook her head and returned to the chair in front of her paints. She had to put the earl out of her mind and get back to the scene. She removed the dome and picked up her paintbrush but before she’d remembered where she’d left off, Lord Thornwick had invaded her thoughts once again. He was a handsome rake, but that was the only compliment Angelina was willing to give him right now. Except, maybe, she did find his roguish smile attractive at times, and she did like it that he hadn’t seemed in the least daunted by Sam, but that was as far as it went. Well, except, he certainly knew how to get the most out of a kiss. She would give him that as well. But surely Captain Maxwell’s kisses would be even better.
Merciful heavens! She would melt into a puddle if Captain Maxwell’s kisses were any better than the earl’s.
Lord Thornwick’s kiss had shocked her, stimulated her, and vexed her. What a devil he was to walk into her garden and deliberately take control of her senses, take her in his arms and kiss her as if she belonged to him. Yes, that was how it felt to be wrapped in his arms. It was as if she were his. He made her forget her sensible self; more than that, he made her forget all about Captain Maxwell.
And what would Captain Maxwell say if he knew she had been so thoroughly kissed?
She’d often dreamed of being held in a gentleman’s strong arms, her breasts flattened against his wide chest, but she’d always thought the man would be the Army captain.
When he returned, would he want to kiss her? If he did, would he know that she had already been kissed? If not, would he ask her?
And if he did, would she tell him the truth?
Chapter 10
As many arrows, loosed several ways, come to one mark … so may a thousand actions, once afoot, end in one purpose.
Henry V, Act I, sc. 2
Angelina shivered.
The wind had kicked up and the bright sun and blue sky had faded to gray, reducing her light. It was time to put her painting away and go inside. She’d done all she could for one day.
She looked at the fan she’d just finished and smiled with pride as she carefully placed it in a small wooden box so it wouldn’t get bumped and smudge the paint before it completely dried. Without knowing it, the Dowager Duchess of Drakestone had given Angelina the idea of painting a portion of the ballroom at the Great Hall. The white columns and sparkling chandeliers looked beautiful against the dark-blue silk of the fan.
Angelina knew it wouldn’t matter how many times she walked into that room; she would always be staggered by its opulence. The gilt fretwork and carved moldings were extraordinary. She’d never seen anything to rival the ceiling. It was painted sky blue and littered with heavenly creatures shooting arrows and playing harps. She hadn’t bothered to count them but there had to be more than a dozen of the huge Corinthian columns gracing the floor.
It had been difficult but by using the gold and silver dust, she’d captured the look of the sparkling chandeliers throwing golden streams of light across the elegant room. At the bottom of the fan, she’d painted swirls of bright colors to represent the gowns, headpieces, and waistcoats of the attendees. The dowager would love it.
It had probably taken Angelina close to half an hour after Lord Thornwick had left to get her hands steady enough to return to painting. She didn’t know how she’d done it but she’d managed to finish the fan and think about Lord Thornwick, too. Think about his kisses and strong, warm embrace.
Angelina didn’t want to be infatuated by him. But how could she not be? His kisses had been delicious, inviting, and—strangest of all____possessive. Surely when Captain Maxwell returned and kissed her she would have the same marvelous feelings. No, the captain’s kisses would be even better because he was the man of her dreams. She was in love with him. Yes, his kisses would make her forget all about Lord Thornwick’s.
Oh, she hoped Captain Maxwell returned soon so she could get the earl off her mind.
She heard the back door open and spun around. Her grandmother stepped out onto the stoop. Angelina smiled to herself. She was being silly. For an instant she thought the earl had returned.
“I’ve found him,” Granna called with a smile as she waved a piece of foolscap in her hand. “The gentleman I was looking for. Do you want to go with me to see him?”
Angelina’s breath leaped. “Yes, that’s wonderful news. You know I want to go,” she answered, covering her paints. “But I need a minute to put these away.”
“No, I’ll send your maid out to bring your things inside and put them in your painting room. You hurry inside and wash up, change, and get some of your best paintings together. Meet me by the front door as soon as you can.”
“I’ll hurry and then get my coat and bonnet and be right there.”
Angelina didn’t think she had ever changed and put her hair in a chignon so quickly. In less than twenty minutes, she and her grandmother were settled in the carriage rumbling down the bumpy road.
“Now can you tell me where we’re going and who we will see?” Angelina asked, clutching in her lap a satchel that held two fans, two mourning boxes, a snuffbox, and a painting of a ship being tossed at sea on a piece of ivory.
“We’re going to see an old friend of your grandfather’s. I know it’s not proper to arrive at anyone’s door unannounced but what we’ll be asking him to do for us is an even worse offense. So we’re already beyond the pale. If he’s unavailable, I’ll leave my card and ask him to pay me a visit tomorrow. We’re already almost a week into the Season and if we are going to help your father there is no time to waste.”
Angelina felt an overwhelming love for her grandmother. She didn’t approve of what Angelina was doing, yet she was willing to put aside her own beliefs of what was right and proper to help Angelina. She patted her grandmother’s gloved hand. “My appreciation runs deep, Granna. I know participating in this unsavory arrangement is not something you would choose to do.”
“No, my dear, it is not,” Granna said with a smile. “However, when duty calls I will answer. I do this only because I know my daughter would want me to help you.” She sighed. “And loving heart that she had, she’d want me to help your father, too, so I must.”
Angelina’s throat tightened and she was quiet for a time. She often missed her mother, and at times wondered if her life would have been any different if her mother had lived.
“Since we’ll soon meet this man, Granna, can you tell me his name now and something about him?”
“I’m sorry I sounded so cautious and didn’t tell you anything before I went about finding him. I didn’t want to get your hopes up if the man I was thinking about was no longer living in London. I really didn’t know if he was still alive. I had to go to the church to find out.”
“The church?”
“Yes,” she replied. “An odd place to be sure. I knew the vicar would know how to get in touch with him. I’d heard they had remained friends. The vicar said he’d find Bishop Worsley’s address and send it to me. It was waiting for me when I returned today.”
That bit of information took Angelina aback. “A bishop in the church is going to help us?”
“Well…” She hesitated and averted her eyes. “Not exactly. That is, he was a bishop in the church a few years ago, and a very fine one from what your grandfather told me. They’d been friends since they were boys.”
“I heard a but about him in there, Granna.”
Her grandmother sighed. “Unfortunately, there usually is. Some things happened, and, well, he’s no longer a part of the clergy, but he refused to give up his title.”
“That’s curious. Do you know what things happened?”
“Yes, of course, your grandfather was still living at the time and he confided in me all the things that didn’
t make the newsprint.”
Now Angelina was even more interested in this man they were to meet. “Can you tell me?”
“I suppose it will be all right to share it with you. It was so long ago, I’m sure no one talks about his downfall anymore, and it’s really no secret. Apparently, the vicar at the time found out Bishop Worsley liked to gamble.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me,” Angelina said with a smile. “From what I’ve heard, most men enjoy their games and wagers. But now that I think about it, I suppose the church wouldn’t want men on their staff to be regulars in such behavior.”
“Especially if the man was using the church’s money to gamble with and then pay his debts.”
“Oh, my,” Angelina said. “Granna, if that’s the case, are you sure he will be trustworthy for what we want him to do?”
“Yes,” her grandmother said emphatically. “According to the vicar, he’s completely reformed now and has mended his ways. The vicar told me the two of them stay in touch from time to time and that Bishop Worsley has stayed on the straight road regarding his gambling inclinations.”
“And because of his past experience with gaming you think he’ll know how to help us.”
“Well, he’ll certainly know more than we do.”
Angelina liked her grandmother’s attitude about this entire situation. “That’s for certain.”
“No one will think twice about a man going into the shops to see if they will buy your paintings. And I know we can trust him not to ever divulge to anyone that you are the artist.”
Angelina believed her grandmother but asked, “How can you be sure he’ll keep our secret about this?”
She gave Angelina a pointed look. “All I can say is he’d better. Your grandfather always liked him and helped him a time or two when he was in need. Including replacing the all the money he took from the church so they wouldn’t press charges against him. I’m sure Bishop Worsley still feels quite indebted to your grandfather and will be only too glad to help his only granddaughter if possible.”
