by Burke, Darcy
It was certainly memorable. After Kiss if You Can, they’d played a few more games. Nothing had eclipsed her kiss with Nick, however. In fact, she could scarcely recall anything else that had happened.
“It was quite diverting,” she said.
Hannah made a face at her. “What a mundane description. Is there nothing exciting to share? At least tell me what you played.”
“Just silly games.”
Hannah regarded her skeptically. “This is suspicious. It seems as though you’re hiding something. Don’t make me ask Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law to ferret out the details.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”
“No, but you’re being so odd!” She sidled closer and lowered her voice. “Did something scandalous happen?”
“Of course not. As I said, they were silly games.” Violet didn’t know why she was being so secretive—Nick had kissed her in full view of everyone, and it was really only a matter of time before the news was shared. She was actually a bit surprised it hadn’t been already. But then this postdinner drawing room time with the ladies might yet see it out.
“Kiss the Nun, Kiss if You Can, that sort of thing,” Violet said.
Hannah’s eyes flickered with understanding—and interest. “I see. Who kissed whom? I can tell from your demeanor that something happened.”
“Several kisses were exchanged.” Violet hoped the heat she felt rising up her cheeks wasn’t noticeable, but knew that was a fantasy. “I was paired with Nick—the Duke of Kilve—in Kiss if You Can.”
“And he was successful.” Hannah’s mouth spread into a wide grin. “How wonderful.” She sobered, her eyes taking on a darker glint. “It was wonderful, wasn’t it?”
Beyond wonderful. “It was on the lips.”
Hannah’s eyes rounded, and she lifted her hand to her open mouth. “Well, now I understand your hesitation. However did you manage it?”
Did she think Violet had initiated it? “I jumped up to evade him, and he pulled me down. We lost our balance, and I…landed on top of him. He kissed me.” She gave Hannah a wry look. “That is how the game is played, if you recall.”
“How splendid.” She lowered her tone to just above a whisper. “Shall I arrange for you to have an assignation? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done that at one of my parties.”
Violet tried not to laugh and failed. “Of course they have.”
Hannah blinked. “I guess they were quite skilled, since I was unaware.” She shrugged and smiled briefly before glancing at the drawing room. “I suppose I should go in.” She sounded resigned. “But if you do need assistance with a liaison, you need only ask.”
“I won’t, but thank you.”
Hannah gave her a saucy look. “You never know.”
No, she didn’t. But she wasn’t sure she could imagine it. She’d spent so many years pining over what could have been. To consider that it might be within her grasp was too much.
Violet went into the drawing room and was instantly drawn to join the young women in their little corner seating area.
“Lady Pendleton, we worried you weren’t coming,” Lady Lavinia said.
Violet sat down in the open chair between Miss Colton and Lady Lavinia. “I think it’s past time you all call me Violet.”
“Then you must call us Lavinia, Sarah, and Diana.” She glanced toward Miss Colton and Miss Kingman in succession. They both nodded in agreement.
“It would be my privilege,” Violet said.
Lavinia glanced behind her toward where the older matrons were holding court. The buzz of conversation coming from that direction was as constant as ever, like a beehive on a hot summer day.
“We had such a grand time today,” Lavinia said effusively, her eyes alight.
“Oh yes,” Sarah agreed, her cheeks a fetching shade of pale pink. “I must admit I didn’t try very hard to get away from Mr. Woodward in Kiss if You Can,” she said softly but with a heady excitement.
Lavinia giggled at this. “I knew it! I thought for certain the Duke of Romsey was going to catch me, but he didn’t. Perhaps he was still cross with me for tweaking his ear.”
“He was cheating,” Diana said with a gentle snort.
“It wasn’t as bad as Mr. Seaver saying there was a spider in my hair,” Sarah said, blinking at them. “I was terrified. I hate spiders.”
After a beat of silence, they all laughed, including Sarah.
“Oh damn,” Violet murmured. She glanced apologetically at the others. “I beg your pardon. But steel yourselves. Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law are coming.”
Sarah’s eyes widened slightly with fear while Lavinia boldly lifted her chin. Meanwhile, Diana looked as serene as ever, her features reflecting nothing but an air of calm indifference. She really was formidable when it came to putting on appearances.
“You ladies are certainly enjoying yourselves over here,” Lady Nixon said. “Do share what is so amusing.” Her smile was wide, but her eyes were dark with malicious intent. Or so Violet thought. The woman was unconscionable.
“Nothing really,” Violet said. “Just idle chatter.” She bared her teeth in a smile, knowing some found that vulgar but hoping Lady Nixon would understand she would not be cowed.
Mrs. Law forced the sort of laugh that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with trying to manage a situation. “Oh come, you simply must share.” She looked directly at Sarah, who shrank in her chair. “Are you discussing this afternoon’s activities? It sounds as if it was most agreeable.”
Violet wanted to leap up and wave Mrs. Law away from Sarah. Perhaps with a sword since it felt as if the woman was targeting Sarah for strategic purposes as if they were in a battle.
“It was,” Sarah said uncertainly.
Lady Nixon sat down on the small settee next to Sarah. “What did you do?”
“We, ah, played games.”
Mrs. Law perched on the other side of Sarah, though there was scarcely room. This put her rather close to Violet—if she reached out, she could box the officious woman’s ears.
“What sort of games?” Mrs. Law asked.
Sarah glanced between the two women who’d surrounded her as if they were conducting a siege. “Kiss the Nun.”
Mrs. Law clapped her hands together. “Delightful! Who kissed whom? Should we alert anyone’s parents?” She laughed loudly, and the rest of the women from their grouping on the other side of the room came to stand around their chairs and the settee. Violet’s neck prickled under all the attention.
She decided to do something good with it.
“All the gentlemen behaved nobly and with enviable charm. I thought the Duke of Romsey, was particularly game. Wouldn’t you agree, ladies?” She glanced around at the others and silently prodded them to join in her campaign to rehabilitate Simon.
“Without reservation,” Lavinia said. “I tugged his ear a bit too hard in Kiss the Nun, and he was quite magnanimous.”
“Did you?” Lady Nixon said with a laugh. “Well, it’s hardly anything a gentleman doesn’t deserve.” She exchanged a look with Mrs. Law, who also laughed, as did several others.
Violet met Hannah’s distressed gaze. “Shall we go back and sit?” Hannah suggested nervously. “The gentlemen will likely arrive shortly.”
“Oh, and we wouldn’t want them to know we’re discussing them,” Mrs. Law said, chortling.
“But that’s all we do,” Mrs. Stinnet said from behind Diana’s chair. “Mostly.”
This was met with more laughter. Even Lavinia cracked a smile.
Lady Nixon fixed Violet with a penetrating stare. “You seem quite fixated on the Duke. Is it possible you have a tendre for the Duke of Ruin—sorry, Romsey?”
Violet gritted her teeth. “I do not. However, he’s demonstrated himself to be a kind and admirable gentleman.”
“Besides, it was Ice who kissed her.” Lavinia cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She shot a pained, apologetic look toward Violet.
“I
s that so?” Mrs. Law asked in a deceptively melodic voice.
Every head swiveled toward Violet, expectation painted on their faces.
“It was Kiss if You Can, and we drew cards for partners.” Violet’s tone was dispassionate, and she didn’t care. “Oh look, the gentlemen have arrived.” She smirked at Mrs. Law.
“Excellent!” Hannah declared, perhaps a trifle too loudly. “Let us repair to the ballroom for dancing!”
Lavinia jumped up. “Yes, let’s!”
Sarah joined her, looking as if she wanted to flee as quickly as possible from the women flanking her.
The gentlemen joined the women, and Violet heard one ask why the women were all clustered together. She walked away before she could hear the answer. She needed air.
Intending to cut through the adjoining sitting room to reach a doorway to the rear garden, she stalked away from the rest of the guests. Well, most of the rest of the guests. As she neared the doorway, she saw Nick standing near the mantel, his eyes hooded. Tonight was meant for brooding, apparently.
He turned his head, his gaze catching hers. She inclined her chin toward the sitting room, silently asking him to join her.
After hesitating a moment during which her irritation increased, he moved away from the mantel. Trusting that he was going to follow her, she continued into the sitting room.
She turned near the exterior door. He strode toward her, tall and handsome in his black and gray evening attire. Heat dashed through her, bringing every sensation of that afternoon’s kiss to the fore.
“I’m going to take a walk outside.”
He stared at her. “It’s cold.”
“I need some air. And I need to speak with you.”
“You want me to accompany you.” It wasn’t a question.
So she didn’t answer it. Instead, she turned and went outside. To his credit, he followed her.
As soon as they were outdoors, they were plunged into near darkness. Light from the house provided meager illumination, but not enough for her to make out his features. Unless they were close.
He came toward her and shrugged out of his coat, then wordlessly draped it around her shoulders. She was instantly engulfed in his spicy clove scent. The tremors racing through her body since he’d walked into the sitting room behind her intensified.
“I’m afraid our kiss is now common knowledge, but that isn’t why I wanted to speak with you.” She looked at his face, which she could see better now that he was closer. Even so, she couldn’t discern his feelings about what she’d just told him. “I have a plan for Simon,” she said.
“Do you?” The question was equal parts interested curiosity and skepticism.
“He’s already won over the younger set, but Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law are proving rather horrid.” She didn’t bother keeping the acid from her tone.
“They’ve nettled you quite thoroughly,” he murmured.
“They’re the nastiest sort. I plan on telling Hannah that I refuse to attend any further house parties if they’re to be here.” She shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the cold but her ire. She was actually feeling much warmer ensconced in his coat. Or maybe it was just his nearness that was causing her body temperature to rise.
“Perhaps now you see why I avoid such things,” he said softly and with more than a hint of irony.
“Quite.” But she knew he wasn’t the Duke of Ice simply to avoid the likes of Mrs. Law and Lady Nixon.
“What is your plan to do with Simon?” he asked.
Violet took a deep breath. The cool night air filled her lungs and cleansed her irritation away, leaving the thunderous hum of her attraction to him. She worked hard to ignore it.
“I should like to make a hero of him again tomorrow in Wells.”
His brow knitted. “How?”
“He’ll need to rescue one of the ladies. I thought during a tour that one of them could trip or encounter some sort of difficulty.”
“And he would help them?”
She nodded.
“She’d have to be privy to our plans. Who would do that?”
“Me.”
Now he reacted. His nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched briefly before he schooled his features once more. He was trying to hide his response. Why?
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.
“His wife died falling down the stairs. We must be careful.”
“Even more reason for it to be me, then.”
Again, the muscles in his jaw tensed.
She burned to know why this agitated him. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Not yet, but I’ll let you know if I come up with one.”
“Why does this plan bother you?”
He fixed his gaze past her shoulder into the darkness of the garden. “It doesn’t.”
She didn’t believe him, but she was also certain he wouldn’t tell her the truth. Perhaps it was just that he was worried about Simon. She hadn’t thought about any similarity to his wife’s death. “What if I pretend to take ill and faint?”
“Do you really think this will help his reputation? As you said, Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law seem immovable.”
Indeed they did. Frustration curled through her, and she stared at his cravat, her lips pursed.
“Please don’t do that.” His voice sounded strained.
Her gaze shot up to his. “What?”
“Never mind.” He avoided looking at her.
What if he was having the same problem she was? What if the desire pulsing through her was also careening through him? “I enjoyed this afternoon. The games,” she clarified, not quite brave enough to reveal the entire truth: I enjoyed your kiss.
“I apologize for what happened.”
He regretted it? She didn’t pretend to not know what he meant. “You’re sorry you kissed me? I’m not. I’m only sorry it was so short.” She stared up at him, her eyes drinking in the cleft in his chin and the sharp, seductive angle of his cheekbone and willing him to look at her.
His gaze dipped to hers finally. Ice and fire seemed to war within his stare. “It won’t happen again. There is no future between us, Violet.”
The hunger inside her coiled and grew into anger. “You really plan to spend the rest of your life alone? Why would you choose to be the Duke of Ice?”
He leaned forward, his face scant inches from hers. “I didn’t. It chose me.” Their gazes locked for a long moment before he retreated. When he spoke again, his tone had cooled. “Whether I’m alone or not isn’t your concern.”
The pieces of her heart, broken for so long, seemed to sigh in her chest. “You shouldn’t be alone. You deserve happiness.”
“Yes, well, we don’t always get what we deserve, do we? If I marry again, it won’t be for love. Fairy-tale dreams of a happy ever after aren’t for me, Violet. And I suspect they aren’t for you either.”
It was like a physical blow. She gasped. Because there was truth in his words. She’d wronged him so badly. “No, I suspect they aren’t.” She barely heard her muted response.
That should’ve been the end of it, but she was wearing his coat.
She found the courage to look up at him and was shocked to see stark desire in his eyes before the wall of ice fell back into place. “Is this all an act?” she asked, her distress bubbling to the surface.
“What?”
She resisted the urge to kick him. “Your frigidity. I see hints of the Nick I knew. Just when I think you’re not really the cold man everyone thinks, you’re coated in frost once more. What the devil is wrong with you?”
His jaw twitched, and everything about him heated. “Everything,” he growled. “I was fine until I came to this bloody party and saw you.” He swayed toward her again. “I don’t like the way you make me feel.”
He was so close. She ached to touch him. “How is that?” The question came out in a low rasp.
“As if I’m not in control.” His mouth was just an inch from hers.
If she lean
ed forward, she could kiss him…
But he turned and started toward the house. She still had his coat.
Dashing in front of him, she blocked his path. She shrugged out of his garment and held it out to him. He didn’t immediately take it, but when he did, he was careful not to touch her hand.
Without another word, he disappeared inside.
Violet exhaled, her breath rattling from her chest. She began to shake, and she knew it wasn’t entirely from the cold. Closing her eyes briefly, she heard him say, as if I’m not in control.
That was precisely how she felt. For years. What’s more, she was certain she’d feel that way forever. For if she could control anything, she would choose not to love him anymore.
Chapter 9
“Here we are,” Simon called as they rode into Wells the following afternoon.
Nick dragged his mind from where it had been focused all morning and last night: on Violet. Kissing her had been a foolish mistake. If he’d been thinking clearly, he would’ve realized that. If he’d been thinking at all. Instead, his body had taken over.
And it had tried to do the same last night when he’d accompanied her outside. He’d come so close to kissing her again and perhaps even ravishing her right there.
He’d behaved abominably, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted her. He didn’t want to want her. It was a bloody disaster.
Stalking back into the house, he’d gone straight for his room and a bottle of whiskey. Except she’d accompanied him. Or it had seemed like it. Donning his coat when he’d stepped inside, he’d been instantly enveloped in her warmth and her scent. The torture had been keen and long-lasting. Even now, he smelled wild roses and longed for a touch he couldn’t have.
Only he could. He was fairly certain she would’ve been receptive to him last night. She’d said as much when saying she wished their kiss had lasted longer. That had nearly driven him over the edge of his control. And therein lay his blasted problem. He refused to lose control.
They slowed their horses as the cathedral came into sight. The other guests were traveling by coach and would arrive soon.
