Chapter 12 #2
In a split second, balance was lost, and everyone lurched sideways with a collective gasp, as the vessel tipped violently.
Kitty didn’t have time to even notice what was happening before icy water shut in over her head, stifling the breath from her lungs. She broke surface with a splutter, slapping at the lake’s scummy top, her hair dripping and stuck to her cheeks.
Jane was thrashing in to her left, spluttering, and Norman, still calm, was already making for the shore, his face twisted into a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
Richard emerged from the lake like a disgruntled sea creature, his boots squelching with every step as water cascaded from his waistcoat. The once-pristine cravat now hung limp around his neck, dripping onto the dock with rhythmic splats.
“I maintain,” he announced, wringing out his sleeve with dignity, “that this constitutes attempted patricide.”
Jane, still waist-deep in the shallows, pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh as she accepted his outstretched hand. “Oh, do be serious—you needed the cooling off.”
“What I need,” Richard grumbled, hauling her onto the planks with unnecessary vigor, “is a daughter less prone to marine warfare and a suitor who doesn’t encourage it.” He shot a glare at Norman, who was extending his hand to pull Kitty out of the water.
Lady Mulberry, meanwhile, shrieked as if she’d been pitched into the Styx. “Oh! Oh, it’s a complete disaster! My dress—my hat! My boots are ruined!”
“They’re only boots,” Norman answered dryly, leading Kitty’s hand to the water’s edge.
“They’re embroidered satin, Norman! Embroidered!”
Kitty paddled out to the dock, kicking off her shoes, which were of no use to her in the water. When she reached the shore, she hauled herself up onto the grass and sat back, panting for breath.
Norman came out of the water, already shaking his head. “Get inside before you all catch a chill. You need to change.”
Lady Mulberry simply complained and grumbled about her “tragic fate” as they entered the house, but Kitty didn’t hear her either, as she was too busy peeling off her drenched clothes from her body while she hurried to her room.
Without a second thought, she peeled off her drenched clothes, twisting the water from her chemise before grabbing a dry set from her drawer. Just as she was about to slip her dry clothes on, the door flew open.
She held her breath and wrapped herself in the cloth, head jerking in the direction of the intruder. Her breathing caught. “Your Grace!” she stuttered. “Get out!”
He did not. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, gaze slow and deliberate as it swept over her bare shoulders and the damp chemise clinging to her curves.
“Fascinating timing,” he drawled.
“What are you doing here?” Kitty felt her voice tremble with rising panic. “Leave at once. This is entirely inappropriate.”
“I was just speaking with Eleanor. She tells me you’ve been prying into my affairs.”
Kitty had carefully broached the subject with Eleanor during the picnic, weaving her questions between bites of lemon cake and idle chatter about the weather. She’d asked if he had courted any women before, feigning nonchalance as she brushed crumbs from her skirt.
Eleanor had beamed with sisterly devotion, telling her Norman had never been one for dalliances. Eleanor’s glowing account painted him as a man of impossible virtue.
How disappointing. She’d hoped that her questions had remained on that blanket.
Kitty’s stomach flipped, though she forced herself to hold his gaze.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Norman stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “Oh, I think you do.”
Kitty gripped the fabric at her chest more tightly, heat creeping up her neck. “So, what if I have? You expect me to just marry you? Knowing nothing about you?”
He released a low laugh, tilting his head back to consider her. “You wish to learn more about me?”
“I—” She tried to snap out of it, but he stopped her.
“And what of you, Kitty?” He leaned in, close enough so that she could sense the heat of his breath on her damp skin. “What if I wish to learn more about you as well?”
Her throat tightened. “I—”
“Tell me, what do you feel when we’re like this, hmm?” His fingers traced over the fabric of her shift, outlining the curve of her shoulder before pushing it down just so to bare the skin beneath. “Do you want more than this?”
And then his lips were burning on her throat, his tongue tracing over the delicate skin.
Kitty’s pulse thudded, her breathing turned into shallow gasps. She had to escape, shake him off, but she was frozen—captivated by his words and the dark depths of his eyes.
She shut her eyes, his lips against hers sending waves of excitement through her, a sensation she had never experienced before.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she gasped.
“Mmm,” he mused against her, his hands finding her waist, pulling her firmly against him. “Perhaps I shouldn’t.” His voice was muffled as his lips brushed lower, grazing the damp fabric clinging to her chest.
Heat coiled in her belly, an unbearable ache tightening inside her.
She couldn’t believe this feeling—this bliss—had been kept from her for so long. She had never known such pure excitement before. The warmth of him enveloping her sent shivers through her entire body as his touch lingered.
She wanted more, needed him to keep going.
But reason tugged at the corners of her mind, reminding her of the very reasons she found herself in this situation with him to begin with.
She flattened her hands against his shoulders, attempting a weak push. “You… should… stop.”
He stilled. Then, slowly, he lifted his head, his electric-blue eyes dark and unreadable.
“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was rough, tightening the muscles inside her even more. Before she could even gasp, he trapped her wrists in one hand and pinned them against the wall. Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
Her breath hitched as she felt it—his fingertips, tracing up the inside of her leg.
Her body opened up to him before she could so much as think she should have fought it. His fingers explored the wet warmth between her legs, stroking along her entrance with maddening gentleness. “Do you like it?”
“Norman,” she gasped, vision blurring. Her back curved, her chest heaving with every strangled breath.
He did not look away. That look—her crumbling under his hands—appeared to ignite something in his eyes.
“You want to destroy this marriage now?” he breathed, his head crouching even lower.
His teeth grazed her nipple through the soaked chemise as his fingers pressed deep enough to cause her hips to shift toward him, craving more.
She trembled, unable to respond—couldn’t do anything but go deeper into the sensation.
He drew back, his fingers playing at her entrance, but not giving her what she needed. “You do not wish to marry me?” he breathed.
She was unable to speak. She pressed against his hand instead, a silent request.
A curve of amusement drifted over his mouth. “No, no, no.”
And then—nothing.
He pushed back completely, still holding her wrists against the wall.
Her stomach dropped. How could he—how could he leave her like this?
A low, dark laugh shook in his chest. “What? You want more?”
Her hips twitched involuntarily toward him, her body betraying her.
That satisfied him.
Taking the hand that had just been between her legs, he drew his fingers to his mouth, sucking them in slowly. He savored the taste, his lids heavy as he watched her reaction.
Fire coursed through her, settling deep in her belly.
Then, his free hand slid to her throat, fingers pressing just enough to make her pulse hammer, to make the ache between her legs unbearable. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “Stop trying to run from this marriage.”
And then—just as he had unraveled her—he let her go.
Kitty had barely time to draw breath before he stepped back, a sneering expression on his face as he took in the flushed skin of her face, the open mouth.
Then he turned around and disappeared into the hallway.