Chapter 6
Florence put her hands over her ears to keep from hearing his response.
He took gentle hold of her wrists and drew them off her ears. “You do, Florence. You make me melt and yearn and hope for a bright future with you. How is that for an answer?”
“Completely absurd.”
He laughed. “Care to explain why you find it impossible?”
“First of all, I had never kissed anyone before you pasted your mouth to mine when we first met. Something you probably guessed because how could our kiss be anything but clumsy and unmemorable to you? I do not know how to kiss. Was it not obvious?”
“Yes, a little obvious. But that made it all the sweeter for me.”
“How?”
He took her hand as he led her from the stable back to the house. “You said it yourself just now. You had never been kissed before. I was your first and only. Do you have any idea how special that is to a man?”
“No.” She tried to slip her hand out of his, but he stubbornly kept hold of it. Fortunately, there was no one out here to notice other than a few geese waddling by. “Perhaps it was special for me, but it was just one among many for you.”
“Completely wrong, Florence.”
She paused just outside of Swann Hall’s front door. “How am I wrong?”
“I have never been anyone’s first kiss before. So, it could be said this was a first for me, too.”
She snorted. “Be serious.”
“I am. I could tell you were innocent. Don’t ask me how I knew... a man can just tell.”
“Oh, really? You could tell? Even with your head cracked open and a nasty shot ripping through your ribs? Not to mention you lost enough blood to fill a bathtub.”
“Now that is an exaggeration.”
“But you could still tell our kiss was wonderful and melted your heart?”
He nodded. “As I hope it melted yours. In fact, I know it did.”
She sniffed in dismissal.
“Sniff and snort all you like, but it won’t change anything. A man can always tell how his kiss is received. You liked it. So did I. My point is, I have never kissed an innocent before, so that kiss was a first for both of us.”
“Dear heaven, this is ridiculous.”
“Protest all you like, but you cannot hide the truth.” He took her arm as they continued inside, he leading the way even though he was injured and should not have been walking around with this apparent ease.
Obviously, the man was strong as a bull.
* * *
His strength continued to improve.
To Florence’s amazement, he seemed to have recovered most of his vigor by the day of the Somerville ball.
There were a few telltale signs of his lingering discomfort, for he winced when having to stand up or sit down, and he still allowed Ethan to exercise Pegasus, a sign he did not trust himself to ride the beast yet.
But these were minor irritations, and she was glad he was well on the mend.
However, stepping into the carriage was a bittersweet moment for her. She watched James take his place at the rear, resplendent in his footman’s livery. They had spent an entire week together, neither of them seeming to run out of conversation, and it would now come to an end.
Day by day, little by little, she had lost her heart to this man she still knew almost nothing about. Yes, he was the Duke of Wellbourne’s emissary and carried himself with confidence and authority.
He was educated and well spoken, and obviously came from wealth. Even his saddlebags were of the finest quality leather.
Yet, he had not spoken a word about his family.
Was he related to the Duke of Wellbourne? A brother or some other close relation?
Even her grandfather had at first mistaken him for the duke.
Could he be Wellbourne himself? Most telling was the way he simply assumed she would marry him if he asked.
Would a mere army captain ever presume such a thing?