Chapter Six #2
Because if I wasn’t, that would most definitely be the start of a diplomatic incident, and exactly what the Queen and the Devil wished to avoid, which the marquis knew full well.
“Thank you for your excellent work, Miss Hastings,” Lord Hennawi said, his gaze shifting nervously to the marquis.
“Let’s go.”
The marquis didn’t wait for my response, instead taking my arm to lead me out of the palace, walking quickly.
We were on the pavement outside the gate within minutes, and I glanced at him, surprised we weren’t in a carriage ourselves or that he hadn’t yet hailed a hackney at least.
“Are we walking?” I asked. “You don’t even know where I live.”
The boardinghouse was only a mile or so from the palace, but he didn’t know that. So why was he still walking?
“But I do,” he said, sounding smug. “It would be foolish for me not to have information about our liaison.”
“Oh.”
That was disconcerting but shouldn’t have been surprising.
And it wasn’t the most upsetting thing about him—just thinking about it made me furious all over again.
“Why did you want to see me home, my lord? I assume you are not going to apologize for endangering my life and the lives of everyone else in that church this afternoon.” I spoke firmly. I would not allow my natural hesitation toward antagonizing him give him the false belief that I was not angry.
“No, of course not.” He spoke with a laugh, which made me bristle even more.
I waited.
He didn’t speak.
I waited some more. I was stubborn; I knew that. I had to imagine the son of the Devil was just as, if not more, stubborn than me. But what was the point of asking again, when he’d clearly understood the question? And was deliberately not answering?
I’d dealt with enough arrogant people to recognize the tactic. I was not going to take the bait.
We were a quarter of a mile away from my home when he spoke at last. Aha! Got him.
“You will tell me if you get any information about who might be behind this attempt to discredit us.”
The words seemed as though they were being dragged through his mouth by a team of oxen: slowly, thoroughly, and somewhat caked with excrement.
“Yes,” I replied. “I will also inform my superiors—”
“No,” he interrupted. “If you discover anything, I want to know first. If it is someone from our realm, my father and I can deal with it swiftly.”
I frowned. “Begging your pardon, my lord, but I am duty bound to tell them.”
He stopped, turning to me and taking my hand. I was so startled I yelped. Not my proudest moment.
“I am not asking you to betray your country, Miss Hastings. I am merely asking that you share information with me, should you happen upon it.”
“And also conveniently not share that information with Mr. Connors and Lord Hennawi,” I pointed out.
He grimaced. “Well, yes.”
“I can’t. I am sorry”—even though I really wasn’t—“but I cannot.”
“Can you at least promise that you will tell me first? Perhaps an hour or so before you tell those two?” It was obvious he hadn’t bothered to learn their names. I should be honored or horrified, I supposed, that he had learned mine.
I considered it.
“I can,” I said at last.
He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it, the warmth of his mouth penetrating the fabric of my glove. What would it be like to—
No. I could not think about that. I should not be thinking about that.
“Thank you, Miss Hastings.” He tucked my arm back into his and began to walk again, his attitude returned to its usual arrogant self, as though his moment of humility had never happened.
“You know, I could have just used some of my power to make you do what I wanted,” he said in a conversational tone.
“It’s as simple as gazing into your eyes and telling you what I want. ”
I yanked my arm from his and stopped walking. He halted, too, turning to face me.
The moon was bright overhead, so I could see his face. So beautiful. So treacherous.
“That would be inexcusable,” I replied. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. I hadn’t realized he had that kind of power. “That would be forcing me to do something I did not wish to.”
He stilled for a moment; then his eyelids lowered and he gave me a look that made my knees wobble.
“I am going to kiss you,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “and you are going to like it.”
Before I could respond, he’d pulled me into his arms and lowered his mouth onto mine.
His lips were warm, like the rest of him, and it felt as though I were melting into him.
He murmured something against my mouth, something I couldn’t understand, and then he wrapped one hand around my waist and put the other at my jaw to hold me in place.
Not that I was going anywhere.
I couldn’t move. It felt delicious. His kiss was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever experienced, and I think I might have fallen if not for his arms supporting me.
It was overwhelming.
He nibbled at my mouth, gently biting and teasing, and then licked his way inside, stroking his tongue against mine, making me shiver all over.