Chapter 7 #2
“I’m sure it must do with fauna. Birds, in particular. Lady Josephine is something of a birdwatcher, aren’t you?” He turned to Wilkes. “She has an affinity for tail feathers.”
“My lady,” Wilkes leaned to gently whisper in Josephine’s ear.
“I do not think it wise to be seen in the company of Lavisham.” He nodded to the guests in the card room, many of whom had paused in their game to consider why Lady Josephine Harrington was speaking to the Duke of Lavisham. “Your reputation should be considered.”
Lavisham tilted his head back, bemused. Daring her to continue with this madness. “Speak louder, Wilkes. I can hardly hear you decry my debauchery.”
Wilkes pressed his lips together. “I meant no disrespect, Your Grace.”
“Oh…” Lavisham waved a hand. “None taken.”
“It will only take a moment, my lord,” Josephine assured Wilkes. “We can speak just outside, Your Grace.”
The duke shrugged and came to his feet, his massive form looming over Josephine. “As you wish, my lady. I’ll return in a moment, Wilkes. Don’t peek at my cards.” He took her elbow.
“Never, Your Grace.” Wilkes once more took his seat, adequately subdued.
Poor Wilkes. He’s horrified.
“I thought he might challenge me to a duel over your honor. Just for merely speaking to me. Imagine if he were aware of—”
“That is quite enough, Your Grace.” Josephine kept her features carefully composed as Lavisham led her out of the card room, ignoring the flames licking up her arm where the duke held her.
She kept her gaze straight ahead, but even so, she caught Lavisham sneaking glances at her.
Nor did she utter a word of protest as the duke led her down the hall to a less crowded area.
Here, only a few guests mingled. The lamps were not as bright.
But they remained in full view of the card room so that no impropriety could be voiced.
“Are you involved with Wilkes?” Lavisham bit out.
What an odd thing to ask. “I don’t believe that to be any of your affair, Your Grace.”
A sound came from him. “Very well. Speak, my lady. You have my full attention.”
Josephine glanced up at Lavisham, the massive, magnificent duke, and felt her resolve falter. Her entire body hummed in his presence, making her want to do all sorts of wicked, scandalous things. Run her fingers through that golden mane of hair. Bite his lower lip.
Good lord. Focus, Josephine.
“I wish to discuss the return of the peacock brooch.”
“I assumed as much.” A tired sigh left him. “It is all you think of, my lady.” He curled his body around Josephine, hiding her from view of any prying eyes.
Not all I think of.
For instance, at the moment, she was considering why he smelled so incredible, salty with sea air with just a hint of something clean and fresh. Like the wind as it blows along the cliffs near the sea.
“I realize this is an unusual request.”
“You are not the first to ask me to return some bauble I won in a hand of cards. It isn’t as unusual as you might think. It should be returned to you, given its value.” A small snort of derision left him.
Josephine breathed, so profound was her relief she barely heard Lavisham. “You won’t regret it, Your Grace.”
“Or this,” the duke whispered before his mouth fell on hers.
She gasped at the feel of his lips, softer than she’d remembered as they clashed with her own, though the kiss was surprisingly gentle.
Her entire body rippled, breasts pushing up along the lines of his chest. A deep rumble of satisfaction came from Lavisham before he broke away leaving her trembling with unrealized passion.
“But I didn’t say I would give it to you. Only that I should.” The big shoulders shifted.
Josephine’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “You are the most disagreeable—fine, I’ll play you for the brooch.”
Lavisham raised a brow. “You mean cards?”
“Yes. One and twenty.”
“And what would you wager? Gold? Earbobs? I’ve no need of such things.” He turned to leave her. “I should return to the card room, lest the gossip starts.”
“Me,” she fairly snarled at his back. “I will wager myself. The other night, in your study, you thought I was a courtesan. You just kissed me, Lustful Lavisham. Isn’t that a wager you might accept?”
He turned back to her, the fury in his features so pronounced, Josephine backed away.
“Is that what you think of me? Of—” Pain flashed in his eyes, so brief it could have been a trick of the light.
Then his mouth tightened and Lavisham spun on his heel, stomping away from her very much like the enraged bear she often thought him to be.
Josephine stood for the longest time, looking at the place Lavisham had been. A strangled sound came from her drawing the attention of two whispering ninnies as they passed by. She’d hurt Lavisham and hadn’t even realized she had the power to do so.
“Yes, but now I know.”
She didn’t have the peacock brooch or her inheritance, which should have stung far more than it did.
Instead it was the possible loss of Lavisham, the wounded way he’d looked at her, that struck Josephine through the heart.
Eventually, she forced herself forward, back to the ballroom, pausing only to look inside the card room to see Lavisham once more at the same table, surrounded by three gentlemen all intent on beating him at whist.
Josephine did not stop.
“Wretch. Cad,” she whispered under her breath, trying not to think of the way her lips still throbbed from his kiss. Or how each of those words sounded more like an endearment than anything else. Josephine pressed a palm to her chest, feeling the hurried rhythm of her heart.
“Well?” Willa said as Josephine returned. “Did he agree to give you the brooch?”
“Not exactly,” Josephine replied, her heart still skipping at the thought of Lavisham. The way she’d unintentionally hurt him. That gentle, searching kiss he’d bestowed upon her. She looked out over the ballroom, seeing nothing but her giant of a duke.
“More negotiation,” she said quietly to Willa. “Is required.”