The girls were engrossed with their own topics; he and she could converse freely.
'Only up to a point.' He paused, then coolly stated, 'In the coming months I think you'll discover there's other activities more to your taste than whirling around ballrooms.'
She had absolutely no doubt to what activities he was alluding; his gaze was anything but cool. Meeting it, she arched one brow. 'Such as?'
The look in his eyes stated very clearly: that's for me to know and you to learn.
'Oh, look! Is that Richmond village?'
They both turned to see Fiona pointing; Amelia inwardly cursed. She glanced at Luc, but he retrieved his arm and turned away. The moment was gone.
Or so he led her to believe. Only when they were strolling in the girls' wake under the spreading oaks and beeches did she realize he had another agenda beyond entertaining his sisters — one that involved only them.
They were under a large oak that hid them from view, the girls ahead, already clear of the shadows, when Luc tugged her to a halt, spun her to him, and kissed her, swift, hard and all too sure.
Then he released her, resettled her hand on his arm, and strolled on.
She stared at him. 'What was that for?'
He looked at her, eyes glinting from beneath his lashes as they passed into the sunshine. 'I didn't think I needed a reason.'
She blinked, faced forward. He didn't, of course. Not to kiss her, or… anything else.
He had a fertile imagination — the rest of the day passed in giddy absorption in what became a lighthearted game. At first, when his long fingers found the gap in her glove cuffs, and stroked, toyed, with caresses that were so innocent it was hard to comprehend why they felt so illicit, she couldn't see any reason to discourage him; she was more concerned with trying to predict just what he would be at next — what sensitive spot he would choose to tease — with a breath, with a touch, with a kiss.
Later, after they'd lunched at the Star and Garter, then, as the afternoon waxed glorious, started down the hill, she concluded that, for propriety's sake, she had to at least protest. The sliding, glancing passage of his hand over her hip, over the curve of her bottom, covered only by a thin layer of muslin and a silk chemise, was explicit enough to make her blush. She knew perfectly well no one else could see, however…
Yet when she grasped the moment as they passed under another useful tree and turned to him, lips opening on a rebuke — she found herself in his arms being thoroughly kissed. Kissed witless; when he released her, she'd forgotten what she'd wanted to say.
Lips curving wickedly, he tweaked a curl, and, one hand on her bottom, turned her toward the carriage.
She kept her parasol up all the way home to hide her blush from his sisters. The man was a rake! His fingers now rested not at her nape but even more possessively, heavy at the curve where her shoulder met her neck.
The most amazing discovery was that she liked his fingers there — liked feeling his touch, the weight of his hand. The sensation of skin to skin.
The realization kept her silent — occupied — all the way home.
Chapter 5
The surest way to manage Amelia was, not just to keep the reins in his hands, but to use them. To drive her, distract her, so she didn't have time to filch said reins from his grasp.
That established, Luc escorted her, together with his sisters and Fiona, to the balloon ascension, and through judicious dalliance kept her on tenterhooks the entire time — kept her attention riveted on him. She didn't even notice the other gentlemen who unsuccessfully vied for her smiles.
The following day, confident he now had her measure, confident he could keep her distracted sufficiently to draw out their unexpected courtship until the
After counting heads, he sent a note to Reggie, inviting him, too, to make one of their party. Reggie arrived in Mount Street just as the ladies, young and old, chattering like starlings, descended the front steps of Ashford House. By the curb, the Cynster landau stood waiting, along with Luc's curricle.
Following his female responsibilities down the steps, he smiled at Reggie. Who could count as well as he.
Reggie met his gaze as he strolled up. 'You owe me for this.' Reggie had already bowed to Minerva and Louise, both friends of his mother's. He nodded, a touch resignedly, at the younger girls. The footman handed them up. Reggie turned to Amelia as she halted beside him.
She'd only just realized Luc's strategy.
Reggie caught her eye. 'Have fun. But think twice before agreeing to anything he says.'
She grinned and pressed Reggie's hand, then watched as he climbed into the landau, taking the last seat beside Louise. Luc gave the coachman directions, then returned to her side as the landau rumbled off.
It was replaced at the curb by Luc's curricle. He handed her up. She shuffled along, then he joined her. Taking the reins, he nodded to his groom. The pair of matched greys were released; they tossed their heads — Luc calmed them, then, with a flick of his wrist, set them trotting in the wake of the landau.
She had to smile. 'Poor Reggie.'
'He'll enjoy himself hugely being the undisputed center of attention while he regales them with the latest gossip.'
'True.' She glanced at Luc's chiseled features. 'But if you find escorting us such a trial, why did you suggest it?'
He turned his head; his eyes met hers. His message was quite clear: don't be daft. The glint in the midnight blue depths clearly stated that he had plans for Lady Hartington's
When he looked back at his horses, her heart was beating faster, her mind awash with fanciful imaginings, her nerves tensing with a blend of excitement and anticipation she'd never felt with anyone but him. The effect left her pleasantly expectant, sunnily confident, as they rolled through the streets.
Indeed, as she cast a surreptitious glance over her companion, negligently handsome in a drab, many-caped driving coat thrown over a dark blue morning coat, his long legs encased in tight-fitting buckskin breeches and glossy Hessians, long fingers firm on the reins as he expertly guided the frisky greys through the crowded thoroughfares, she couldn't think of anything she needed to make her day more complete. She had the right man and, if she'd read that glance correctly, his promise of pleasure to come. Smiling, she sat back and watched the houses go by. Hartington House lay to the west amid gently rolling fields. The house stood in an extensive park with large trees, a lake, and many pleasing vistas. Lady Hartington was delighted to welcome them; Luc assumed his customary bored expression, projecting the image that, in view of the number of females attending from his family, he'd felt obliged to lend them his escort.
They joined the other guests on the wide terrace overlooking the lawns, passing through the crowd, nodding, and exchanging greetings. Although Luc remained by her side, his expression, and that air of a man condemned to an afternoon of polite boredom, remained, too.
Amelia glanced at him as they emerged at one side of the crush, in relative if temporary privacy. 'I hesitate to mention it, but if you want the
She pretended to admire the distant lake; from the corner of her eye, she saw his lips twitch, felt the weight of his gaze as it rested on her face.
'Actually, no — that might, I feel, be stretching the bounds of the believable.
A callow youth, an eager puppy — she couldn't remember him ever being like that. Throughout his career,
