The Devil’s Own Duke (The Dukes of Darkness #4)

Chapter Twenty-Six

One sennight later

“I ’d never figured you for a pink roses kind of man.”

Surprised by the deep voice coming from the doorway, Chase looked from up the paperwork on the ornate Louis XIV desk in the study of the Cuillin dower house and slowly smiled at Shay Douglass, Duke of Malvern, as the man leaned a casual shoulder against the doorframe.

Chase shrugged and cast an appraising glance over the room that had been decorated in a riot of floral patterns and pastels by his grandmother and never redecorated after her death. “Pink roses, yellow daffodils, white daisies…” Chase answered deadpan. “Can’t get enough of the stuff.”

Shay gave an easy laugh and stepped into the room, gripping his leather riding gloves in his hand. He still wore the dust of the road on his redingote and buckskin breeches, the blond hair beneath his beaver hat’s brim mussed from the wind, and lines made deeper by fatigue etched into the corners of his eyes. Even the rough scars that covered half his face like a mask couldn’t hide signs that he’d been riding for hours.

Chase rose from his chair and circled the desk to greet his old friend, slapping him on the shoulder before pulling him into a half-hug. Dear God, it was good to see him! Not only because Shay was more of a brother to him than a mere friend, but because Shay’s part during the past week was the last piece to fall into place before Chase could start his new future.

“I looked for you at the castle,” Shay explained as he sank onto the chair in front of the desk. The slightly framed piece groaned beneath his large frame. “A footman said you’d decamped to the dower house.”

“It’s easier staying here than in the castle.” The hour was still fairly early, with the mantel clock showing just before noon, but he knew his friend had most likely been up and in the saddle at the crack of dawn and would appreciate a glass of port. So he reached behind the painting of white roses on the bookshelf and took out a bottle and two glasses.

When Chase placed them on the desk, Shay arched a brow and reached for a glass. “I think I’ve underestimated the value of floral decorations.”

“My grandmother used this study,” Chase explained as he splashed port into both glasses. “She kept enough liquor here to drink the prince regent under the table. Always said the best way to keep the accounts was with a side of whiskey.”

Shay chuckled, and Chase tapped his glass against Shay’s in a small toast, then returned to his chair behind the desk. The swallow of port slid warmly down his throat. In that moment’s pause, he took the opportunity to consider the study and dower house around him, for once quiet, since he’d sent both Thomas and Winnie outside to play. The sun was shining, the day was bright, and knowing how quickly the weather could turn, Chase didn’t want them to miss a minute of it.

“I thought it best that we live here in the dower house until Thomas grows used to being at Cuillin. The castle is too big, too formal, and I didn’t want him to be overwhelmed by it. Or frightened of it, the way I was.” He stared down into his port as he slowly swirled it in the glass. “He has no memories of the estate, or of me, so I want to make certain the new memories he creates are happy ones. I have good memories of this house when my grandmother lived here, and I want Thomas to have those same good memories of a place that is more of a home than a fortress.”

His son would have a loving, safe home here. Chase would do everything in his power to ensure it. He was no longer uncertain about providing a happy life for Thomas and being a good father.

His own future, though, was still far from certain.

“I hear the castle’s haunted,” Shay mused.

Chase’s lips twisted into a faint smile and lifted the glass to his lips. “Not anymore.”

That was the God’s truth. Whatever ghosts had been haunting its rooms and grounds had vanished over the three days since he had been home, and it hadn’t taken an exorcism, holy water, or the services of any kind of priest. All it had taken was Thomas’s laughter the first time Chase took him into the castle and let him run wild, to play and romp and climb through all of it. The boy had been so excited to have a castle for his playground that he’d nearly worn himself out trying to see all of it. Chase had happily watched him at every minute, grinning so hard his face hurt, and knowing he’d never been happier in his life.

But they were staying in the dower house. With over thirty rooms, living here wasn’t exactly a hardship. Bates and the main castle staff shifted into their new quarters, and in less than a day, they had the dower house opened, refreshed, and ready to serve as their new home. The trimmed-down staff fit the house perfectly, which was just the right size to accommodate Chase, Thomas and all his toys from the nursery that had been brought out of storage, Winnie, and Lady Bentley, whose services as a chaperone were one once again needed, because there was also Tessa.

She had done as he’d asked and remained in Salterton while he had ridden after Mrs. Fisher, and while there, she had settled all arrangements for Eleanor with Father Blaine. The church records had been updated, a new headstone ordered for the grave, and all debts the parish had incurred for the burial and taking care of Thomas had been paid in full. In turn, the villagers hosted a gathering in the village market hall to honor Eleanor, whose true identity had finally been revealed to the people who had loved her even when they had no idea who she was, and to give comfort to Tessa.

Then, when word reached Salterton that Chase had found Thomas and was bringing him and Mrs. Fisher home, Tessa had hurried back to Weymouth to share the news. She had led the mission to prepare the estate for Thomas’s return, including being the one to oversee relocating to the dower house and the one who insisted that Winnie, Lady Bentley, and she return to Cuillin to help Thomas transition into his new life. When Chase and Thomas arrived on the estate, she had been there to greet them with loving, open arms.

Well, open arms for Thomas, anyway. Toward Chase, she’d been less affectionate. Distant. Self-protective. She’d dismissed every opportunity to be alone with him to discuss matters between them, including using both Winnie and Thomas to run interference. If not the two children, then Lady Bentley. The woman had been nearly inconsolable to learn of Tessa breaking off her understanding with Renslow— nearly , because in her absence, a handful of eligible bachelors had made the unfortunate decision to visit Weymouth and unwittingly crossed the woman’s path. She was already planning ways they could meet Tessa, who, for her part, had sworn off the rest of the season, claiming Thomas needed her too much for her to take any time away from Cuillin. Whether the truth was Thomas or something to do with him, Chase hadn’t been able to find out, and short of sneaking into her room in the middle of the night to demand answers, there was nothing he could do about it…although sneaking into her room was damnably tempting, regardless.

He didn’t blame her for keeping her distance. He knew how important it was for a person to protect themselves—for Christ’s sake, he had done exactly that himself for years and had barely survived it. As for Tessa, he’d yet to give her a reason to trust him with her heart.

He hoped Shay had brought news to help with that.

He leveled his gaze across the desk at Shay. The time for small talk was over. “So you’ve brought word from London. Did it go well?”

“Very well.” Shay reached beneath his coat and withdrew a tied sheath of papers from his inside breast pocket. He placed it onto the desktop and slid it toward Shay. “See for yourself.”

Chase untied the rolled papers. His eyes scanned the first sheet.

“Arthur Williamson’s signed statement,” Chase murmured, his gaze darting down to the signature scrawled across the bottom of the page.

Shay gave a sharp nod. “His oath that the orders to advance never reached Major General Albright that day at Genappe, that Hambledon led an unwarranted attack that allowed the French to rout the Allies, that Albright did everything in his power to save his men and maintain the original battle plan…that Albright was the hero that day, not its villain.”

Chase read the paper again, letting a pleased relief seep over him. While Lucien, Devlin, and he had been rescuing Thomas, Shay had ridden to find Arthur Williamson, the former captain and Albright’s aide-de-camp whom he and Tessa had met with the night of the ball, to convince him to testify to the general’s good name and salvage his reputation. And by association, to salvage Tessa and Winnie’s.

“You did it.” Chase lifted his gaze to meet Shay’s. “You persuaded him to sign.” When Shay only shrugged, Chase added, “How much did you have to bribe him with?”

“Nothing.” All hints of amusement—and there weren’t many—disappeared from his friend’s countenance. He brushed his knuckles over the deep and leathery burn scars on his face. “He saw this and was convinced I was there to threaten him. He had no idea who I was and assumed I was some hired thug come to rip him in two if he didn’t give his statement.” His left lip curled into a gruesome half-smile, the other half of his face incapable of moving. “Finally these damned scars were good for something.”

Chase made no comment. Those scars were a relentless reminder of how fate had changed his friend forever. But they’d also brought Shay to the love of his life in Sophie, the new Duchess of Malvern, and the family and loving home they were creating together. How could Chase ever admit he was jealous of Shay for having that, when the world thought the man a monster for having those scars?

“But you might want to settle a few hundred pounds on the captain, anyway,” Shay added. “Signing that statement was the right thing to do, but it also places him into a vulnerable position.”

Chase nearly laughed. If Captain Williamson’s statement helped Tessa and Winnie, he’d settle thousands of pounds upon the man’s head.

He set the statement aside and glanced at the second page, and his heart stopped. It was a posthumous commendation for Major General Albright issued by the crown.

“As soon as I had Williamson’s testimony, I rode directly to London to meet with the prime minister,” Shay informed him, “bypassing the Foreign Office, the War Department, and the War Office completely. Lucien and Devlin were back in the city by then, and all three of us personally walked that statement through Parliament to hand it directly to Lord Liverpool.”

A peppery sting of emotion filled Chase’s chest at the show of force his three best friends had committed in support of Tessa’s father.

“Liverpool currently has political rivals in army leadership and knew Prinny wouldn’t hesitate to slap them down,” Shay explained, “especially if it costs him nothing. Well, almost nothing.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a folded letter. “This is for the Misses Albright, from Lord Liverpool himself. It’s a promise to issue the financial compensation that should have been the general’s had he not retired early.” He handed it to Chase, his mouth twisting in a gruesome half-grimace. “The amount should have been more.”

Chase unfolded the note and read it, then corrected his friend, “It should have been a great deal more for ruining a man’s life.”

“True. But it’s what they’re owed, and it’s enough to provide a good education for Winifred and a small dowry for Miss Albright.” Then Shay added the words Chase didn’t need to hear, “A good marriage match by Miss Albright will ensure a respectable and solid future for both of them.”

The warm relief that had pulsed through Chase’s veins only seconds earlier now turned bitterly cold. Of course, Tessa would still hope to marry, to have a family and home of her own. He couldn’t fault her that, even if the thought of Tessa with another man was like acid on his tongue.

“The dowager Duchess of Dartmoor and Lady Margaret have offered to sponsor a London season for her next year so she can meet eligible gentlemen,” Shay continued, oblivious to the frustration shredding Chase’s insides. “If she’s still unwed by then.”

Chase forced a tight smile, knowing he should be thrilled for Tessa at how the situation had been resolved. But its resolution only provided a way forward for Tessa without him. “Or Tessa and Winnie can use the money to keep house for themselves and not marry at all.”

“Or you can marry her yourself and end all this nonsense.”

His heart slammed a skipping beat at Shay’s bluntness. With a tight smile, Chase refolded the letter and tucked it into his own breast pocket to deliver to Tessa. “You’ve been gossiping with Lucien and Devlin.”

“We only want the best for you, Chase. We want you to be happy.” Shay’s eyes softened. “I know the hell of living without hope or love, and I would never want that for you.” He rose from the chair and reached for his gloves and hat on the desk. “Ask yourself this… What’s going to make you want to get out of bed every morning and face the day?” His eyes locked with Chase’s. “More importantly, what’s going to make you want to get back into that same bed every night to face the hours of darkness until dawn?” He slapped on his hat to punctuate his point. “When you find the answers to those questions, you’ll find what makes you happy.”

With a parting nod, Shay strode from the room.

Chase stared after Shay, knowing his friend was right. In the past three years—hell, for much longer than that—he had been searching for hope, for happiness…for purpose. The only moments when he’d managed to capture those feelings had been with Tessa, and now that he had them, he refused to let them slip away.

He shoved himself away from the desk. It was time to face the future. Right here. With Tessa.

*

Tessa glanced up from her teacup as Chase strode into the drawing room and narrowed her eyes at him over the rim. Exactly the man she wanted to see.

And slap.

He beamed at her. “Tessa, I need to—” He halted when he noticed the plump solicitor sitting on the settee across the low tea table from her. “Ah, Mr. Porter. I didn’t know you were here.”

“Ah, Your Grace!” Mr. Porter leveraged his apple-shaped body off the settee and gave Chase a smart nod in greeting. “I’d heard you’d returned to Cuillin, and I was eager to share my good news.”

Chase’s smile wavered. “How nice of you to bring it.”

“Yes, wasn’t it?” Tessa interjected as she stiffly took a sip of her tea, her back ramrod straight. “Mr. Porter was just telling me about your plans to sell off all your unentailed properties and put the money into a trust for Winnie and me.” She pointedly arched a brow. “Leaving nothing for yourself.”

And that wiped the smile completely off Chase’s face.

Good. He deserved to be caught off guard as much as she had over this secret business. She knew he’d wanted to put England behind him and return to Spain, even with Thomas back from the grave, even with a new life here—a sharp knot swelled in her throat…even after everything that had occurred between them. But she’d never thought he’d go as far as this.

“Please tell him your news, Mr. Porter,” she encouraged with a saccharine smile for the solicitor.

“Ah, yes!” The man beamed as he turned toward Chase. “I’ve found—”

“He’s found a buyer,” Tessa interrupted with exaggerated helpfulness.

“Yes, a gentleman from Paris who is—”

“Who is looking to establish himself in England and thinks the Maddox properties would be the perfect opportunity to do exactly that,” Tessa interjected again. “Although he’s not quite willing to pay the full asking price, he’s presented a very good offer that Mr. Porter thinks you should accept.” She gave the solicitor a wide smile as if they were discussing nothing more innocuous than the weather. “Isn’t that so, Mr. Porter?”

“Most definitely.” The man set down the teacup and saucer he’d been holding and picked up the leather portfolio sitting on the settee cushion next to him. He withdrew a sheet of paper and held it out toward Chase, who warily came forward into the room…slowly, like a long-tailed cat navigating a room full of rocking chairs. “Here are the details for you to look over at your leisure—but not too much leisure.” He snapped the portfolio closed to punctuate his warning. “You’ll need to move quickly if you want to take advantage of this offer.”

Chase accepted the paper but didn’t so much as glance at it before placing it on the tea table with a grimace. “Thank you. I’ll let you know my plans by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Very good, very good.” Mr. Porter rubbed his hands together proudly at a job well done. “And I’ll start the paperwork to establish the trusts this very afternoon, shall I?

When Chase looked across the table at Tessa, she coolly lifted a brow. “Should he?” she asked with mock innocence.

“Hold off on that for now,” Chase ordered Mr. Porter. “Circumstances have changed. I’ll need to discuss matters with Miss Albright first.”

“Darn right you will,” she muttered against the rim of the teacup, only loud enough for Chase to hear.

Chase’s lips twitched with barely concealed amusement, which only made Tessa’s irritation flare.

She narrowed her eyes to slits for a beat, then smiled broadly at Mr. Porter. “I’m so glad you were able to visit today, Mr. Porter. It’s always a delight to chat with you. I learn so much whenever we converse.”

The man’s chest pushed out proudly at the compliment, oblivious to her hidden meaning, and a flush reached the tips of his ears. “And you, as well, Miss Albright.” His gaze shifted between Chase and Tessa, but his satisfied expression at a job well-done proved he was ignorant to the deeper currents running through the conversation. “Now that I’ve brought my news, will you both excuse me? I have appointments today that I must attend. I can show myself out.”

The man bowed to both Tessa and Chase, his hand snagging two more lemon biscuits from the tea tray as he straightened and then happily strode from the room. From the bounce in his step, he must have been certain that he’d done his part to help matters here and that all was right with their world.

The man couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Tessa,” Chase started, “it isn’t what you think.”

She slanted a furious glance at Chase over her teacup as she raised it to her lips, hoping the movement would hide the angry shaking of her hand. “What I think is that you took it upon yourself to sell off every bit of your properties and belongings that weren’t nailed down and roll the gains into a trust for Winnie and me without our knowledge. Am I wrong?”

“Yes.” Then he confessed, caught, “I’d planned on selling all the nails, too.”

She nearly choked on the tea. She set down the cup and saucer on the tray with a loud clank and folded her arms over her chest. It was all she could do to muster the resolve not to let slip her tears, both from anger and frustration. “Did you ever intend to tell me what you were planning?”

“You knew I was closing up the castle and planning on selling everything I could.”

“But I didn’t know you planned to give it to us.”

His eyes softened. “Because I care about you and Winnie and want you to have a good life.”

“No. You wanted us to have the money so you could wash your hands of us and return to Spain without a second thought for the people you left behind.” Her voice cracked. “For me.”

He sat beside her on the settee, so close that the weight of his tall body sinking into the cushions tilted her toward him. “Yes, I asked Porter to find a buyer for all the property because I wanted to make a clean break with England.” He took her hand and gently made her uncross her arms, melting her last defenses by placing a kiss to her palm. “But that was weeks ago, right after I arrived back at Cuillin and before—”

Before I saw you again. Tessa desperately wanted to hear him utter the words. Before we were intimate. Before I fell in love with you.

“—before I knew about the accusations made about your father and how difficult the situation had become for you and Winnie.”

Her shoulders deflated as a stab of anguish pierced her. He hadn’t said anything at all close to what she’d wanted to hear.

“When I learned about that, I asked Porter to draw up the paperwork for a trust with enough money to send Winnie to school and to give you a dowry, if you wanted, or to provide an independent life if you didn’t. And every moment you and I spent together then only seemed to confirm that giving you the trust and leaving for Spain was the right thing do to. For all of us.”

“Nod—”

He cut her off with a finger to her lips. “You had an understanding with Renslow, and I had no reason to object to the match at that point. I wanted to give you the opportunity to make up your own mind whether to marry him or not. A trust would have given you that freedom.” He lowered his hand and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze, but he had yet to say the words she longed to hear. “But that has all changed, and selling the properties to create a trust for you is no longer an option.”

Nodding, she stood, crossed to the window, and murmured as she looked outside, “Because you need to keep it for Thomas, so he can inherit a proper dukedom.”

Below on the lawn, Winnie and Thomas were playing, supervised closely by Bates, who was still stunned to know that Thomas was alive and back home at Cuillin. They were playing at pall mall, except that instead of using mallets to whack the balls toward the hoop at the far end of the lawn, they had set up a row of Winnie’s dolls like an opposing infantry line and were bombarding them with the artillery of the colored wooden balls. Every time a doll tottered over, they cheered.

“Among other things,” he said vaguely as he came up behind her and looked over her shoulder. When Winnie sent a shot that knocked down half the dolls and then jumped up and down cheering in victory, he murmured, “We’re going to have our hands full with those two.”

“Not if you return to Spain,” she reminded him, not daring to look over her shoulder at him for fear she’d break into sobs. Or punch him. “As you asked, I’ve written to John and Mary to break the news to them of Thomas’s return. I’m certain they’ll be arriving at Cuillin to see him as soon as possible. If you’re still planning on leaving England, then their visit would be a good time for you to ask if they would take Thomas under their care.” She didn’t know how her numb lips were able to form the words. Or how she kept from shattering like glass. “They’d be happy to raise him.”

“I’m certain they would be.”

Somehow, Tessa managed to keep her shoulders from slumping, even as her heart sank to the floor. “Well, then you—”

“But I’m not going to Spain. I’m not going anywhere.”

She wheeled around, her tear-blurred eyes searching his face. “You’re staying…in England?”

“Right here at Cuillin, actually. I’ve made my decision. I’m staying with Thomas. I know now I can protect him and that I can be a good father, if I have help.” He squinted over her shoulder into the sunlight beyond the window. “It won’t be easy, but I won’t live without him. Not again.”

Happiness for him raced through her, but it didn’t lift her downtrodden spirits. He would be here with Thomas, finally heading into a happy future, while she—well, she had no idea where she would be, but she wouldn’t be here. And she wouldn’t be with him.

Faced with that grim truth, she couldn’t find the strength to comment and only nodded instead, fixing her gaze on his chest so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes.

“But that also means there won’t be any trust for you and Winnie,” he reminded her.

“Good. Because I wouldn’t have accepted it even if you had offered.” She lifted her chin with as much dignity as she could muster. “Winnie and I will make our own way in the world.”

She had no idea exactly how they would do that, but they would find a way. She could take a position as a teacher at a school that would allow Winnie to study for free, or become a companion to a lady with enough influence to find a place for Winnie. She would find a way… somehow. But she wouldn’t allow Chase to feel guilty enough to provide anything for them. After all, she still had her pride. That was, what little was left.

It was that same pride that made her state with confidence, “We won’t accept a penny from anyone.”

“How about from England?”

She frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“That’s why I came to find you.” He reached inside his jacket. “I have good news about your father.”

She stared at the papers, not trusting whatever information they contained. Everything in her life since Chase returned to England had been made all topsy-turvy, and she didn’t trust that anything good wouldn’t simply bring more grief.

Pulling in a deep breath of resolve, she accepted the papers, unfolded them, and scanned over the writing, all the while holding her breath—

Her eyes darted up to Chase’s. “Is this true?” Her whispered words were barely louder than a breath. Her hands shook as they held the pages. “Can we really believe what this says?”

“Yes. Williamson swore out his statement, and Liverpool’s pledge can be trusted. And I will personally make certain the commendation for the general and the allowance for you and Winnie both happen. So will Lucien and Devlin. You can count on us. Always.”

She nodded, unable to find her voice beneath the rush of emotion overwhelming her. All of her trembled now, not just her hands, and Chase reached out to take her arm to steady her.

“What Prinny and Whitehall are offering can never make up for all the pain your family has suffered,” he told her softly. “But your father is finally receiving the apology they owe him, along with the recognition he deserves for being a hero. It also means you won’t have to worry anymore about providing for Winnie. The money you’re owed is enough to guarantee a good life for both of you.” He paused, only a moment’s hesitation, but she knew him well enough now to notice even something so small about him. “And the dowager Duchess of Dartmoor has offered to sponsor a London season for you, guaranteed to let you meet many eligible gentlemen, if you’d like.”

No, I wouldn’t like! She blinked hard to fight back the stinging tears threatening at her lashes. She didn’t want to meet any gentlemen. Six weeks ago, she would have jumped at the chance to have such a season, to be able to meet someone who had the position and prospects to care for her and Winnie, to give her a home and family of her own. Someone who would be a good husband for her, a loving brother for Winnie…

But now, the only man she wanted had his own future waiting for him. One, apparently, that did not include her.

She’d never felt more alone in her life than standing right there with him, never more lost. “I don’t…know what…” Her voice broke as a tear slid down her cheek. “What should I do?”

“I’m the wrong person to ask.” He gently wiped it away with his thumb. “Because if you go to London to find suitors, you’ll leave me with no choice but to chase after you and call every single one of them out in a duel.” Then took her chin to tilt her face up until her watery eyes met his. “Because I plan on marrying you myself.”

She inhaled sharply as a mix of confusion and joy shocked her. She crushed the papers in her hand and pressed her fist to her bosom, to keep her heart from leaping from her chest.

“Thomas needs you,” he told her quietly. When her lips parted, worried that he only wanted to marry her to provide a new mother to his son, he read her thoughts and assured her, “ I need you.” His brow drew down in a slight frown as his eyes studied her mouth. “No, it’s more than just need. I simply can’t live without you, here or anywhere, and damnation, for once in my life, I’m going after what I want.” He cupped her face between his palms. “And what I want is you.”

He lowered his head to touch his lips against hers, so softly that his kiss was little more than a gentle brushing of butterfly wings.

“Help me, Tessa,” he whispered. “Help me to create a new future here, because I can’t bear life without you. Help me turn this place into a loving and welcoming home, the one we all deserve.”

Her heart soared with joy, and she trembled from the enormity of it.

“It won’t be easy for you. I’m difficult, stubborn—I’m the son of the devil himself. But I also know that the only thing that can save me is you, Tessa, ordering me about, keeping me in line—”

Despite the surge of happiness coursing through her, she swatted at his shoulder. “You, sir, are a—”

“Letting me love you,” he finished, taking her hand in his. “Because I do love you, Tessa, more than I thought I could ever love anyone.”

He reached into his jacket pocket, then lowered onto one knee beside the settee. Tessa caught her breath.

“I don’t have a ring to propose with,” he explained. “But I have this.”

He held up a little tin soldier, then placed it into her trembling hand.

“Most men give rings when they propose, but I think you should have more than a ring. I think you should have the entire soldier, if you’ll accept him.” He paused. “Will you have me, Tessa?”

“Yes.” Tearfully, she closed her hand around the tin toy figurine, pressed it against her chest, and whispered, “Oh yes!”

She fell into his arms, and he pulled her down onto the floor with him. He kissed her with such affection and hope that sheer happiness shivered through her. She melted against him even as she felt herself soaring toward the heavens. He was hers, now and forever, this man she had always loved with every bit of her heart. This man who was her past and her future, who would always protect her to the best of his ability…who would simply love her and let her love him in return.

“Am I still a nodcock, then?” he asked, burying his mouth against her hair.

“Yes.” Still holding the toy soldier firmly in her grasp, she cupped his face between her hands. “But you’re my nodcock, and that’s all that matters.”

Then she leaned in and kissed him.