Chapter 3
She was being kissed by the Dragon.
Celeste’s brain spun with the realization.
And he was very, very good at kissing. He had earned his reputation. This kiss was beyond anything Celeste’s fevered imagination could have conjured. His mouth perfectly fit hers.
On a sane and practical level, she understood he was shielding her identity in the only obvious way Lady Redhill or anyone else would believe. He might even be attempting to protect his reputation as well. Men didn’t seduce the Harrington sisters.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the experience.
She lifted herself on her tiptoes so she could meet his kiss. She liked being enveloped in the warmth of his body. His clothes smelled of sandalwood, soap, and maleness.
Her lips melded against his. She couldn’t stop them.
Or prevent herself from leaning closer to his strength.
He was a solid, muscular wall providing a haven from Lady Redhill’s gossip and possible ruin.
Not that she was particularly worried about those things right now. She was enjoying the kiss too much.
As if from a distance, she caught the sound of Dame Beatrice chastising Lady Redhill for barging in on the couple.
Meanwhile, his hand found her waist. Had he purposely placed it there?
She liked the weight of his touch even as it pulled her intimately closer.
A new, more intriguing desire began to build. She breathed him in—
He broke off the kiss.
For the space of a heartbeat, Celeste tried to follow his lips. But then, with what sounded like very real annoyance, he barked out, “What is going on?” His arm tightened around her so that her face smooshed against his white shirt and black, patterned silk waistcoat.
“Leading astray another young lovely, Your Grace?” Lady Redhill asked with a snide sniff.
Reality, in the form of her ladyship’s voice, raised its ugly head. Celeste came to her senses. Was a kiss enough to make her family the topic of gossip for ages to come? The duke’s hand prevented her from bolting.
“What I do is not your concern, my lady,” the duke drawled. “Now leave us.”
Lady Redhill did not obey. She turned to Beatrice. “I wonder why you were standing guard?”
“I-I wasn’t standing guard,” Beatrice stuttered in annoyance. “I just saw no reason for you to be in the library.”
“Next, you will be telling me the Duke of Salcombe was sitting in the dark, reading.”
“He does read,” Beatrice said as if offended for His Grace.
“Although I prefer other activities in the dark,” the duke corrected in a lazy, silky voice. “Now, begone, Lady Redhill. Go find your fellow petty hens and tell them what you saw. It will not be news. You tell me often that I already have a wicked reputation.”
“But the woman you are with?” her ladyship hedged.
“Is my affair.”
There was a long, combative silence.
Celeste tried to relax. It was difficult. Her mind reeled at the horror of possible outcomes—although that kiss might have been worth the ruin.
Then, Lady Redhill conceded stiffly, “I do beg your pardon, Your Grace. I should not interfere with your ’sport.’ Come, Dame Beatrice. Let us enjoy a walk down the hall.”
The door closed, and Celeste’s knees almost buckled. Fortunately, the duke still had his arm around her waist. He turned and sat her in his chair. She gratefully relaxed until she realized he was furious, the lines of his face harsh in the hearth light.
“Was all this a scheme to trap me into marriage?” he snapped.
His anger stunned her. “No, no, my only purpose was to ask you to support my charity.”
“Did you know the woman who brought Lady Redhill here?”
“She is Dame Beatrice, and she is my friend. She was my lookout in case someone like Lady Redhill became nosy.”
His stance didn’t soften. “She isn’t good at her job.”
“She slowed Lady Redhill down,” Celeste pointed out. “And now, I believe I should leave.” Especially after that kiss. She was still dazed over it. She stood, thankful her legs now held her weight, and would have walked out the door, except he stopped her.
“Lady Redhill is outside. She will wait for someone to leave this room and then pounce on them.”
This sounded like something the woman would do. “Why does she dislike you so much?”
“Because she and her daughter attempted to trap me into marriage, but I escaped. They had to settle on Alton instead. He doesn’t have the money I have, and well, he’s Alton.” Lord Alton was universally reviled as a bore with very bad breath.
Celeste frowned. “What do we do? We must leave this room eventually. We can’t outwait her.”
“There is always an exit.” He walked over to one of the room’s large windows. It had already been cracked open. He lifted the sash higher, then offered his hand. “My lady?”
Celeste glanced at the door and realized he was right. Lady Redhill would do anything to know whom he had been kissing. Celeste crossed to him and took his hand. He swept her up as if she weighed nothing and dropped her gently into the garden, the earth soft beneath her slippers.
He jumped down beside her.
Not far, on the other side of a clump of clipped evergreens, was a terrace along the back of the house. Guests were milling about there, laughing and enjoying themselves.
“Join them,” he ordered.
“What of you?”
“I have other plans.”
“You’re leaving the ball?”
“I’m leaving.” He still sounded angry.
Wishing to keep the peace between them, she said, “I am certain you have a right to be distrustful of women, but not of me. I sincerely want you to help with my charity. I have no other motive”
The duke made a noncommittal sound.
The reaction annoyed her. “I am not responsible for Lady Redhill’s animosity toward you.
However, I do need you to be the lead patron of my charity.
There is no other sponsor who will attract subscribers the way I know you can.
To be honest, Lady Redhill will do everything in her power to see that I don’t succeed since I am acting without her approval. ”
Another grunt.
Celeste felt her temper sizzle. “Your Grace, please—”
“Stop,” he commanded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. Your request is unusual and I don’t know how I fell about the matter. However, I wish to be alone now. Can you see your way over to the terrace and rejoin the ball? It would be awkward if we were seen together.”
“Yes, of course I can,” Celeste replied, chastened.
Before Lady Redhill had barged in, she had been hopeful for his patronage. Now, she sensed he held her responsible for her ladyship’s brashness. It was unfair, but the decision to help was his—unfortunately. “Let me know what you decide,” she said, dismissing him as bluntly as he had dismissed her.
She started walking toward the path leading to the terrace.
In spite of her pride, she could not resist one backward glance at him.
He’d taught her many things this evening, one of them being how potent a kiss could truly be except, the duke no longer stood where she’d left him.
He had disappeared into the garden’s shadows.