Chapter Five #4
The cadence of his words had shifted again making him sound a great deal…more common, if that were even possible for a duke. Perhaps he spent time around tradesmen though she hadn’t a clue why he would. “Why are you here, Your Grace?”
“Apparently to fall off horses and then attempt to enjoy a collection of silly boats in the water. Do you see that one? Goodness, it will sink from the number of ribbons clustered atop the sail.” He regarded her with a raised brow.
“But there is a gnat buzzing about.” He pretended to swat something away. “And my attention is diverted.”
Good lord he was somewhat…annoying once you got past all that masculine beauty. And much less ducal when not in attendance at a ball. “I meant,” she turned around beneath the copse of trees. “Here.”
“Excellent question.”
Helen waited but Roxboro said nothing else.
“Are you here for…Lady Cerise?” The idea boggled the mind, but Helen supposed she had it all wrong. That he really did admire Cerise and meant to call upon her. Which would be disastrous. “Because if you are, I must warn you—”
“Who?” he interrupted, forehead wrinkling.
“Lady Cerise.” Helen nodded towards the boat race where Cerise stood with Lowell.
“Oh, yes. Cerise. She wore that lovely emerald pendant which drew a great deal of attention to her—” He made a motion with one hand over his chest. “Why would I? You reminded me most severely that I am to wed soon.”
Could Cerise have asked Roxboro to meet her here today?
She glanced back towards the boat race. Her charge was busy dangling off Lord Lowell’s arm and laughing. It didn’t appear as if she were looking for Roxboro or anyone else.
“You didn’t answer the question, Your Grace.” His answer had been far too vague to suit Helen, though Roxboro didn’t appear to recall Cerise only the emerald pendant. He hadn’t even glanced in her direction. The duke was too busy looking at…Helen.
“I’ll behave, Miss Cosgrove. I promise. I can’t have you engaging me in fisticuffs over some chit’s honor. Though your hands are excessively tiny so I’m not sure how much damage you’d do but I don’t wish to risk it. I’d much prefer to wrestle. Wouldn’t that be fun?” He winked suggestively at her.
Helen’s mouth popped open in…horror. Not horror at Roxboro’s words, but at the way her entire being responded to his outlandish suggestion. The hum had moved while she wasn’t paying attention, wrapping around her waist and flickering between her thighs.
Roxboro smells…wonderful. Like a basket of herbs.
“You are…unprincipled,” she managed to say, wanting to press her nose into his shirt.
“Might be true.” He shrugged. “I’ve been called worse. And by you.”
“I must insist you leave.” Helen stomped her foot.
“Are you attempting to make a point? Wasted on me, I’m afraid. Tiny feet as well.”
“Yes, that you must go elsewhere.” Before she did something stupid. Helen forced her eyes back to the water’s edge where another gentleman had joined Lowell, Cerise, and Hester. He bowed to both ladies before waving his arms about and pointing to one of the boats.
Lord Shirth, the name came to her. Galway had briefly considered Shirth as a suitable match for Cerise, but he was only a viscount. Not nearly prestigious enough. Galway had mocked Shirth’s family for having a lesser title.
I will accept nothing below earl.
“Anyone can come to the park, Miss Cosgrove,” Roxboro noted with a great deal of self-importance. “Including dukes. We don’t need a reason. Nor can a lady’s maid—”
“Companion and chaperone,” she bit out.
“Order us to leave. You are somewhat dour, Miss Cosgrove.”
He was trying to goad her. The tiny smirk on his lips told her so. Helen should have marched off leaving him in the trees, but she didn’t. Against her better judgement, she was enjoying herself.
“I am not dour, Your Grace,” she objected.
“Severe, then. Stick up your bum. I noticed it the other evening.”
What an incredibly rude thing to say.
“You couldn’t even swing your hips properly as you walked,” he continued. “Given said stick. Protecting Lady…” the words drifted off.
“Cerise.”
“Yes. Lady Cerise.”
“Patently untrue. I don’t walk in such a fashion.” Her hips were fine. “I find it appalling you can’t even recall her name, yet you nearly seduced her. Do you recall any of them?”
“I recall you, Miss Cosgrove.” Roxboro leaned over, smelling of clean linen, mint, and something else. The soft low rumble of his voice plucked at her skin. “Very well.”
Flames brushed Helen’s arms and legs, sparking along her breasts and settling somewhere in her mid-section, dipping low and swirling about like a bit of honey.
The rhythm of her heart refused to set a calm pace, or maybe it simply could not.
Roxboro was dangerous in so many ways, tempting in all the others.
Helen could feel the air thickening between them, fraught with all sorts of possibility.
Roxboro’s shimmering eyes, blazing with the sort of heat that had Helen’s knees grow weak, drew slowly down her entire body, even taking in her battered half-boots, before rising slowly once more to linger on her mouth.
“Hmm.” He seemed to consider something before saying, “To hell with it.”
Then his mouth firmly and blissfully claimed hers.