Chapter 2 #2
Luke frowned to himself. It was all very impressive of him to rescue her from the sea, and a very clever thought of him to hide the fact that the ‘Isle’ was still attached to the mainland, but they were both damp, and likely to get colder as the night went on.
What had he been thinking? Did he think that she would throw herself into his arms the moment that they reached the shore, kiss him passionately as thanks, relinquish herself to his desires, and then happily trot back to the mainland with him as he ‘discovered’ the way home, all in time for brandy by ten o’clock?
“And what are you going to do?” Miss Garland’s voice once again interrupted his thoughts, but this time they were softly spoken, and there was no anger in her eyes.
“I,” said Luke decidedly, “am going to surprise you. Stay there.”
There was nothing for it now, after all, Luke decided. They could discover the way home together in the morning, and it wasn’t a bad way to spend an evening: with a beautiful woman, huddled under a shelter together.
Luke swallowed. He would have to be far more controlled in reality than in his thoughts.
It took him only five minutes of searching to find what he was looking for.
A heavy branch, covered in leaves, had fallen from its trunk not two weeks past, by the look of the seaweed clumped around it.
Luke could almost remember the storm that had lashed on London window panes.
Heaving it over his shoulders, and cursing slightly at the ruined shirt that he was sure would never recover from sand, salt, and now soil, he half carried, half dragged it back to where he had left Miss Garland.
She was sitting knees hugged to her chest as she glanced round to watch him approach.
“What do you have there?”
“Shelter,” Luke panted, slightly disconcerted at the strain that he was having to put in to pull the heavy branch towards her.
Leaping up, she moved out of the way in the growing gloomy darkness, and stared as he pulled the branch and leaned it carefully against two trees that had grown against each other.
It was not perfect, and Luke would have been the first to admit that. But it was shelter, of a sort, and Adena crept underneath it with a small smile.
“I must admit, I am impressed,” she said, glancing up at him. “Who would have known, to look at you, that you had such ingenious ideas up your sleeve?”
“All the more impressive when you learn that I was not born for this manual life,” said Luke breezily, dropping down beside her and finding to his own astonishment that he was but three inches from her.
At first, she had shrunk back, but seeing that he was going to move no closer, Miss Garland relaxed and looked at him curiously. “What sort of life were you born for, then?”
He did not answer immediately. Instead, he took in the blazing red hair flowing down her back in waves; it contrasted beautifully with her green gown, which was still damp and clung alluringly across her breasts and hips.
She sat there, as though unaware of her beauty, and the very tangible effects that it was having on his own body.
Well, there was no point in hiding it.
“You may have heard of me by another name,” Luke said with a devilish smile. “At least, I almost hope you have. I am Luke Northmere, but I am also the eldest son of the Duke of Northmere, making me, the Marquis of Dewsbury.”
If he had a particular response in mind, hers was not it. Miss Garland’s eyes widened, and then she smiled wryly. “Well, that is something. Do I need to curtsey again, or will my former effort suffice?”
Luke was not a vain man: not compared to most of his station, anyway. But he was accustomed to a little more deference shown when his title was revealed, and in some cases, coquettish smiles, and tilts of the head, and a stretch of the body to show off one’s waist.
Not this ironic grin that he was faced with now, as those green eyes stared at him mercilessly.
“Yes,” he managed, “I mean, no. I just thought you ought to know, that was all.”
But Miss Garland was not going to let him get away with it that easily.
“No, you wanted a response, did you not, my lord? For that is how I must address you now, as you well know. Did you hope for a blushing sigh? A gentle lean,” and here she moved closer to him, and his breath caught in his throat, “so that I could be closer to you?”
Luke opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Really, this was stupid: he was hardly a fresh faced boy of sixteen!
Miss Garland laughed, and leaned back. “I apologise, my lord, I can see that you are not one to be teased. But really, when you have moved in society as I have, you start to weary of dukes and lords and titles. Why, I am here hiding from my very own future title!”
At those words, she clapped slender fingers over her lips, and her eyes widened.
Luke grinned. “Ah, now we get to the truth of it: you are engaged to be married, then, and to a gentleman of rank!”
There was something in her expression that told him she had not meant to impart such information, but she bore it well, and said nothing more than, “Never you mind. At this moment, all that concerns me is that I am marooned with a marquis.”