by Amelia Grey
Blake nodded agreement. He wasn’t ever intentionally late or absent on purpose, and he believed them both when they said they hadn’t told anyone about Miss Tweed.
“Sorry, Cousins. I didn’t expect to be hammered with questions about her the minute I arrived tonight.”
“Who, other than us, knew about her?” Morgan asked.
“Just Constance.”
“And I assume your staff knows she’s at your town house,” Morgan added.
“Yes.” Blake had forgotten about the staff.
“Well, there’s your gossipmonger.”
”Morgan’s right, Blake. You know there are no secrets among servants. They have such a network that they can move gossip along the streets of London faster than one of Morgan’s thoroughbreds runs.”
“You’re probably right. Now that I think about it, there are any number of people who could be the culprit. It could even have been one of the shopkeepers where Constance and Miss Tweed have been all week.”
“Anyone, but not us; we stick together, right?” Race said.
Blake smiled and clapped both Race and Morgan on the shoulder. “Of course. I’m still trying to get used to the idea that I’m responsible for someone’s welfare.
I would rather have had a little more time to get used to the idea of being a guardian before the ton knew about her.”
“What fun would that have been?” Race quipped.
“What do you intend to do with her?” Morgan asked.
“She’s nineteen. The only thing I can do is find her a suitable match.”
“If she’s fair to look at, that should be easy enough. If not, you can bestow a large dowry on her, and then you’ll have plenty of blokes who’ll vie for her hand.”
For some reason, Blake was suddenly uncomfortable talking about Miss Tweed and matchmaking with his cousins.
“She’s quite lovely and intelligent, too.” Not to mention sassy and bold. “And her inheritance is more than enough to satisfy any man I’d allow her to marry. But talk about Miss Tweed can wait for another time. There’s another reason I’m here. Gibby. We have some work to do concerning this insane balloon idea.”
“Did he tell you who wants his money?” Race asked.
“Yes. Mrs. Beverly Simple.”
Race and Morgan said in unison, “A woman?”
Blake nodded. “It has always been my thought that there is usually a scoundrel of a man behind every treacherous woman.”
Race grimaced. “Are you quoting Lord Chesterfield?”
“Blast it, I hope not.”
“Does Gibby fancy himself in love with her?”
Blake shrugged. “You know Gibby as well as I. He’s had his mistresses over the years, but I’ve never known him to be serious about any lady other than our grandmother.”
“It will be nothing but trouble if some woman has finally laid hooks into him.”
“Hence our jobs,” Blake said. “Race, see what you can turn up on Mrs. Simple. Find out where she came from and anyone who’s remotely connected to her by business or family relation.”
Morgan held up his hand. “I know my job. You want me to find out all I can about anyone with interest in balloons—from who sells them to who’s buying them. Consider it done. What are you going to do?”
“We can’t let you off just because you are a guardian now,” Race said with a smile.
Blake took a deep breath. “I’m going up for a balloon ride with Gibby and Mrs. Simple Saturday morning at daybreak.”
“But I thought you didn’t like ballooning.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s right,” Race said. “I remember that it made you sick.”
“It made me dizzy. There’s a difference.”
Morgan and Race looked at each other, and then at Blake. Suddenly they both started laughing.
“You two are bastards,” Blake muttered.
“But amusing bastards,” Race said. He clapped Blake on the back. “Let’s quit this party and go to White’s for a game of cards and a drink.”
Later in the evening, Blake quietly opened his front door and stepped inside the dark house. It had taken him a few months, but he’d finally stopped Ashby from waiting up for him every evening. The last thing Blake wanted after a night of dancing, drinking, and cards was to have anyone other than a lady helping him undress.
Blake took off his hat, cloak, and gloves and laid them on a table. He paused as his stomach rumbled uncomfortably. Maybe he’d had too much to drink and not enough to eat. He shook his head. That couldn’t be right. He couldn’t have consumed much more than a tankard of ale and a glass or two of wine.
He turned to head up the stairs but stopped when he noticed a faint light coming from his book room. For a fleeting moment, he thought Ashby might have finally had a crack in his armor and left a lamp burning, but almost as quickly he remembered Miss Tweed was in the house. That’s where he had found her a few nights ago. No doubt she was looking for a book or perhaps arranging his desk again.
Quietly he walked down the corridor and stood just outside the doorway to see if he could hear the rustle of papers. What he heard was humming. A flash of arousal streaked through his loins. She was humming a slow melody that he found not only enticing but soothing. He closed his eyes and listened to her soft, lilting voice drifting out of the room.
Somehow he knew she was walking toward the door, and he opened his eyes just before her head appeared around the corner.
She smiled at him and his stomach did a somersault. All his frustrations with the responsibility of her and with Gibby seemed to melt away. There was something about seeing her with that “welcome home” smile that made him feel better.
“You can come in,” she said. “I’m only looking over your bookshelf again.”
“So you knew I was out here.”
“Yes. I was almost sure I’d heard the front door open and close a minute or so ago. I don’t know why, but I sensed you were standing just outside the doorway.”
“Just as I sensed you in the corridor that morning,” he said.
Their eyes held for a moment before she stepped back into the room.
He joined her in front of the bookshelf and asked, “Have you found another book?”
“Not yet. I’ve finished and replaced The Forbidden Path. It was very good.” Her fingers skipped along the spines of the titles as she spoke. “There are so many books here that I haven’t read that I was finding it difficult to decide which one to borrow next.”
“Perhaps I can suggest something.”
She looked back at him. “That would be wonderful.”
Blake stepped closer to her and looked at the titles. And looked some more. To his surprise, he realized he hadn’t read many of the books on his shelves.
“I see you are having a hard time deciding, too.”
“Yes,” he said, not wanting to admit to the truth.
Finally his gaze landed on one he remembered reading, some of it anyway. “If you like stories with ghosts in them, this one should satisfy you.”
She smiled at him again. “I do like a good mystery with a ghost in it. Horrid novels are very popular right now. For some reason, people like to be frightened.”
“As long as they know it’s not real but only pages in a book.”
“Yes. This will do quite nicely. And it’s a thick book, too, so it should keep me reading for at least two nights.”
“You read fast.”
“Not so much as I read for long periods of time. Mostly at night. Thank you for your suggestion.”
“I’m glad I can return the favor since you helped me with my correspondence.” He looked over at it and saw that more mail had been piled on top of it since he’d left that morning.
Henrietta’s gaze strayed to the desk, too. “That’s the thing about mail. It comes every day, and you have to start over again.”
“It’s a nuisance, for sure,” he said, though the letters on his desk were the last thing
on his mind. “I won’t start on it tonight, but I should make a note in my appointment book that I have a balloon ride with Gibby early Saturday morning. I can’t forget that.”
Her eyes quickly clouded with concern. “Your Grace, I’m not sure it would be wise for you to go up in a balloon. I would worry about you.”
His stomach cramped for the second time, and he paused before saying, “You would worry about me?”
“Yes. From what I’ve read, balloons can be quite dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He gave her a knowing smile. “You’re concerned about the curse, aren’t you?”
“I have to be. It’s real.”
“If you are so concerned, then why don’t you come with me and keep me safe?”
Her eyes questioned him. “Truly? You want me to come with you?”
Blake didn’t know what in the world had made him ask her that, but now that he had, he couldn’t take it back. What was he thinking? What would he do if he became light-headed like the last time he went up?
“Of course, I mean it.”
“Oh, Your Grace, that would be absolutely thrilling. I would love to go up in a balloon. I saw one a few years ago. It looked so heavenly hanging in the sky. It floated along so quietly, so effortlessly, with no bumps or rolling from side to side like when you’re in a carriage. It just sailed on the gentle breeze.”
It struck Blake that she used a lot of the same words Mrs. Simple had used on Gibby. Could a woman actually look at a balloon as a safe, convenient mode of travel?
“So you’re not afraid of the danger for yourself, only for me?”
“There is no threat to me because of the curse, and I don’t think you will be in danger from the curse if I am with you. None of my other guardians died when I was with them.”
Blake chuckled. “All right, since this is your game, we’ll play it your way. Come along with me on the balloon ride and keep me safe.”
“I shall be happy to, Your Grace.”
Henrietta reached up and kissed him on the cheek. His hands caught her upper arms, imprisoning her with his powerful fingers. Henrietta was aghast at herself as her feet landed flatly back on the floor. Had she actually kissed his cheek? What folly overtook her good sense?
Not wanting to look into his eyes, she glanced down at his strong, capable hands on her arms. She felt power beneath the commanding grip of his masculine fingers. When she lifted her lashes, their eyes met and held. She experienced that same strange sensation low in the pit of her stomach as when he had touched her lips that morning.
As with a will of their own, her lashes fluttered upward. She gazed into his eyes and felt hot, breathless, and excited.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have kissed you. Please forgive me. That was extremely forward of me. I meant nothing by it other than my gratitude to you for offering such a wonderful experience and an opportunity to see to your safety.”
Blake lowered his head toward hers. Despite knowing better, he was going to kiss her. He simply didn’t want to stop himself.
His voice was low and suggestive as he whispered, “You don’t need to apologize for kissing me on the cheek, Miss Tweed. I’m not going to apologize for kissing you.”
She widened her eyes.
“You are going to kiss me?”
“Tit for tat.”
“I don’t think it would be in our best interest for you to do that, Your Grace.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t think you want to stop me. But please feel free to try, because unless you do, I’m going to kiss you.”
His tone and the light of intrigue in his brownish-gray eyes made her stomach quiver deliciously. Teasing warmth tingled across her breasts as she tried to force herself to move away from him.
The duke leaned his body into hers. She sensed his strength; she felt his heat. He reached up and placed one hand on the side of her cheek and caressed her skin. Warmth flooded her at his touch.
A small gasp of wonderment was all that escaped her lips. She knew she should push him away, but she had no desire to do it. She stood there, barely breathing, and allowed him to captivate her with his compelling caress and provocative words.
His hand confidently slipped over to her ear, and his fingertips slowly outlined its shape before slipping behind her ear to tenderly caress the soft skin there.
Henrietta feared that, at any moment, her legs might go weak on her. She didn’t understand why it felt so good when this man touched her.
“I’m waiting, Miss Tweed, giving you plenty of time to walk away.”
“You were right, Your Grace. I find it’s not easy to remove myself from your presence even though I know I should do so immediately.”
His fingertips never left her skin as they traced from behind her ear and over her jawline until his thumb rested at the corner of her lips. His warm palm lay against her neck. She wondered if he could feel her pulse beating out of control.
He leaned in closer. Still, she didn’t object. Heat from his body soothed her, and his breath fanned her cheek. The clean scent of his shaving soap stirred her senses.
With his mouth no more than an inch from hers, his gaze locked on hers. She was mindful of his every breath, and her heart thudded wildly against her chest.
He traced the curve of her upper lip with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sizzled through her. For a moment, she was afraid he wasn’t going to kiss her, but then his lips came down to hers, lightly brushing across them. The contact was delicate, feathery, and enticing. Henrietta’s stomach quivered.
The duke raised his head and looked down into her eyes. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her lashes blinked against his beckoning stare. He was questioning her, asking with the lift of his eyebrows if he should try his luck and kiss her again, or would she find the strength to deny him this time?
Henrietta had not even had a kiss on the cheek since her parents died, and she had had too few hugs the past twelve years. How could she withdraw from something that felt so wonderful and natural?
“Kiss me again,” she whispered.
Blake smiled. He lifted her chin ever so slightly. The lace from the cuff of his sleeve tickled across her bare skin as the back of his arm rested softly, innocently, against her breasts.
Slowly he bent his head and kissed her again, moving his lips seductively over hers for a few moments before letting his lips caress down her chin, over her cheek, and along the soft warm spot of her neck. He breathed in deeply the scent of her before lifting his head and finding her lips once again.
His heated breath caressed her skin before she heard his whispered words, “You smell heavenly, and you feel so right in my arms.”
Slow curls of unexpected pleasure came alive inside her and, without conscious effort, her chest lifted to feel more of the weight of his arm against her breasts. The warmth of his touch seeped inside her, and she gave herself up to the new unexplained feelings of wanting a man.
“You are very tempting, Miss Tweed. Do you realize how easy it would be for me to take advantage of you right now?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Are you frightened?”
She looked up into his eyes and softly said, “No.”
Another cramp grabbed hold of him. “Damnation,” Blake whispered, and stepped away from her. What was happening to him?
“Did I do or say something to upset you?” she asked.
Blake raked the back of his hand across his lips. “No, you didn’t do or say anything wrong.”
“I think we were both suffering from some sort of spell and got carried away with fanciful notions.”
“That spell is called desire, Miss Tweed. And I would venture to say it was a little more than fanciful notions. This is all the more reason why I should be the last person to be your guardian.”
“No,” she said, taking a step toward him. “Please don’t send me to yet another house to live. You have been a very good guardian so far.”
“Until just a few minutes ago,” he stated flatly. “I’m afraid I’m not used to denying myself anything that I want, and I wanted to kiss you. I knew the minute I saw you that I wanted to hold you in my arms and kiss your tempting lips.”
“Really? You knew you wanted to kiss me the first time you saw me?”
He chuckled ruefully. “Of course I knew. It doesn’t take a man more than a glance at a woman to know whether or not he’s attracted to her in that way.”
“I didn’t realize that. I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with men and kissing.”
Blakewell smiled. “That doesn’t help our situation, Henrietta. There are very good reasons I am considered a devilish rogue by the ton. Denying myself something I want is very new to me.”
“You are correct, Your Grace. And I should have been more proper and sensible and not allowed you to kiss me.”
“It is up to me to make changes. From now on, my sole responsibility will be to keep you chaste and find you a worthy husband. That is exactly what I’m going to do.”
So he was back to wanting to marry her off to a suitable man.
“I understand. I hope you won’t deny me the balloon ride with you because we kissed.”
He looked at her for a long moment and finally said, “No, of course not, Henrietta. Remember, my safety will not be guaranteed if you are not with me.”
“You are teasing me, Your Grace.”
He smiled indulgently. “It’s so easy to do. You’ll have to be up early because we have to pick up Gibby at four.”
“Gibby?”
“Sir Randolph Gibson. He will be going with us. He is the one who knows the lady who has the balloon.”
Suddenly a fiendish cramp twisted Blake’s insides, almost buckling his knees. He could no longer ignore the pain in his stomach.
“What’s wrong, Your Grace?”
“Nothing.” He winced and turned away from her, wanting to hide the surprising agony he was in.
“Don’t tell me nothing; I can see you are in pain.”
“Hell’s gate!” he murmured, and took in a deep, shuddering breath. An unusual feeling of weakness in his legs seized him and drenched him in a cold sweat.
Henrietta grabbed hold of his arm and forced him to face her. “Please, tell me what is happening to you!”
