Chapter Five #2
He hid his interest in Miss Barrett with a vicious frown, but the soft curve of her neck as she tilted her head to examine ribbons made it impossible for him to look away from her.
He scowled each time she caught him looking at her, but he never dropped his gaze.
He noticed that she had a habit of biting her lower lip when she was concentrating or deep in thought, and it sent a heat through his veins that made him grip the counter until his knuckles whitened.
It was as though he was battling one of the dizzy spells.
But the attraction and headiness he felt when he looked at her had nothing to do with illness.
When she turned her head, the sunlight streaming in through the windows transformed her golden hair into fire.
His hands itched with the urge to touch it as he imagined releasing her hair from its prison of pins and hairbands and combing through the loosened curls with his fingers.
And the innocent way she swept her hands over the fabrics as she browsed or delicately arched her throat when she laughed at something his sister said fueled his acute obsession with the young lady.
None of his thoughts about her were appropriate or proper, and he did not care.
He wanted her with an unfamiliar desperation.
And he did not know how long he could contain himself.
A chortle rose in his throat, bringing him back to his senses.
He shook his head, disgusted with himself for having such a visceral reaction to Miss Barrett.
Her lavender fragrance, mingling with the delicate silk of her lace, which now occupied his thoughts as he endeavoured to conjure her image, proved overwhelming for him.
“Excuse me,” he mumbled as he stormed toward the door. “Need some air.”
He did not bother apologizing, even when he almost bumped into another patron of the shop. He had no time for his usual grace. He needed to escape the incredible temptation he felt in that moment. Otherwise, lacking grace might be the least of his concerns.
Adelaide found that she enjoyed Edith’s company. Unlike her own sisters, the duke’s sister was kind and without judgment. She seemed to share Adelaide’s sense of humor, which was apparent as she held up a sheet of lace beneath her neck, wagging her eyebrows impishly at Adelaide.
“If only all our secrets were as well hidden as the flaws in this lace,” she said. Her voice was low and quiet, but filled with girlish glee.
Adelaide giggled, nodding.
“Society would certainly have much less about which to gossip,” she said.
Edith nodded, forcing a solemn, sour expression. She turned up her nose and put poised fingertips just beneath her throat.
“My delicate sensibilities would no longer be offended by the wicked cads,” she said, choking back laughter. “Nor could my innocence be tainted by all these fallen women.”
As Adelaide laughed, she caught a glimpse of a store right across the street from Madame Laurent’s. She pointed, recalling something she and Helena had discussed during their trip to Lochville Manor.
“Oh, goodness,” she said. “I just remembered that my aunt is in need of some orange blossom perfume. I see Beaumont’s just there, and I wish to see if they have it.
She deserves a surprise after everything she has done for me since…
” she trailed off, her good spirits dropping.
She was enjoying herself and her time with her aunt.
But she could never forget why it was all happening.
Edith nodded, her smile warming and becoming sympathetic.
“You need not say more,” she said. “I want you to continue having a wonderful time. I am sure that Grandmother will be finished soon, and we can all go together.”
Adelaide nodded, noticing that the duke was no longer inside the store. She was surprised at her disappointment, and suddenly longing for a moment to herself.
“I do not wish to rush the two of you,” she said quickly with a wide smile. “Pray, take your leisure whilst in here. Should I not return by the time the dowager duchess has completed her shopping, you may find me yonder.”
Edith’s brow furrowed, but she eventually nodded.
“All right,” she said, giving Adelaide’s arm a gentle squeeze. “We shall be along shortly.”
Adelaide nodded, relieved that Edith had not insisted on her waiting.
“Do not rush on my account,” she said as she turned and exited the shop.
The rush of crisp air was refreshing, both on her skin and in her lungs.
She looked around at the busy street, nearly bumping into three elderly ladies and one young child who was paying more attention to his feet than he was to his surroundings.
Vaguely, her mother’s warnings, which she had heard for much of her life, echoed in her thoughts.
“Adelaide, you never look where you are going,” she whispered to herself, imagining her mother scolding her with a pointed finger as the words formed on her lips. “One day, your inattention shall be your downfall. Pray, why can you not exhibit the same diligence as your sisters?”
Adelaide rolled her eyes as she continued toward the street.
“Because I am me, Mother,” she said, responding to her imagination’s rendition of the viscountess. “Because I am not my sisters.”
The thunder of hooves pulled her from her nonexistent disagreement with her mother.
Unfortunately, it did so too late. She turned to see a runaway carriage bearing down on her too quickly for her to have time to move.
Time seemed to slow as terror froze her in place.
She could do nothing as she anticipated the impact from the horses and wheels of the coach.
Strong arms wrapped around her, spinning her to safety as she and her rescuer tumbled to the sidewalk.
She blinked, clearing her stunned vision to see the Duke holding her tightly, his body covering hers and pressing her firmly into the cobblestones beneath them.
Their faces were inches apart as they both breathed with the same rapid harshness.
Her body felt flushed with flames as she became aware of his thigh pressed tightly between hers and his hands gripping her waist. The sensations below her navel were more intense than they had ever been, and she wondered if he could feel her pulse in his leg where it made contact with her most delicate parts.
She just barely resisted the urge to lift her hips and press her lower body harder into the duke’s.
As the aroma of his spice-scented shaving soap enveloped her senses and she felt the steady beating of his heart against her bosom, the world around them diminished until it was but the two of them, ensconced in a moment of exquisite intimacy.
All sounds apart from their breathing and all sights besides the duke’s darkening eyes and the way they dropped to her parted lips disappeared.
All that existed was the duke and her, the hardness of his chest pressed against her soft curves, the awareness of every part of her body that touched his, and a sudden, wild and raw desire to press her lips against his and beg him to take her in the most intimate way.
It was the first time she had ever had such improper thoughts. But suddenly, it was all she wanted.