he was about to spurn the gift - eloquently and brutally.

And serve her right too, he thought nastily, frowning at her.

But he closed his mouth. 'I am not even pretty, am I?' she said. 'And I have been married before.

It was terribly foolish of me to think that my plan might work and you would be willing to take me. /Will /you promise not to offer for Meg, though? Or Kate either. She needs someone different from you.' 'Someone more /human/?' he asked. His eyes narrowed again.

She closed her eyes briefly. 'I did not mean that the way it sounded,' she said. 'I merely meant that she needs someone younger and… and…' 'With a sense of humor?' he suggested.

She looked at him and smiled unexpectedly - a smile full of laughter and mischief. 'Do you keep hoping you will wake up and find it is still last night?' she asked him. '/I /do. I have never in my life made such an idiot of myself. And I cannot even ask you to forget this ever happened. It would be impossible to forget.' Yes, it would. He was suddenly angry again.

He leaned forward and set his lips to hers.

She jerked her head back like a frightened rabbit and he raised his eyebrows. 'It is just that I would like a little proof,' he said, 'that your twice-made boast was not entirely idle.' She looked at him in incomprehension for a moment. 'That I know how to please a man?' Her eyes were huge again, her cheeks aflame. 'Yes,' he said softly. '/That /boast.' 'It was not a boast.' When he did not move, she lifted her gloved hands to frame his face, raised her puckered lips to his, and kissed him very softly and gently on the lips.

It was the saddest apology for a kiss he had ever been given by any woman who was not either his mother or one of his sisters.

But /that, /he thought as she released him and looked anxiously into his eyes, was /definitely /a frisson of sexual awareness he felt tightening his groin area. More than a frisson, in fact.

Good Lord! 'Hats and gloves /are /an impediment, are they not?' he said, removing his own and dropping them to the grass, and then pulling free the ribbon beneath her chin and sending her bonnet to the ground behind her.

She slid off her gloves, biting her lip as she did so. 'Now,' he said, 'you can make a less inhibited demonstration.' She framed his face with her hands again - they were warm and soft - and gazed into his eyes until she kissed him.

Her mouth was still softly puckered, but this time she moved it over his lips, parting her own slightly so that he could feel the moist heat within. And her fingers crept up into his hair. She kissed his chin, his cheeks, his closed eyelids, his temples, very softly, very gently. And then his mouth again, touching the tip of her tongue to his lips, running it slowly along the seam.

No other part of her body touched him.

He stood very still, his arms at his sides, his fingers slowly curling into his palms.

And then she was done with her demonstration. She stepped back, and her hands fell to her sides. 'You must understand,' she said, 'that Hedley had no experience at all before I married him. And I did not either, of course. And he was very, very ill through most of our marriage. I do not…I am sorry. It /was /a boast.' He looked downward, stooped to pick up a flat pebble, and turned toward the lake to send it bouncing across the water, leaving tiny whirlpools in its wake.

He had suddenly realized something. It was too late simply to dismiss her preposterous suggestion with the contempt it deserved. He had invited her to kiss him, and she had done so. If he had not exactly compromised her, he had at least toyed with her sensibilities.

There was the small matter of honor to be addressed now. 'Yes, it /was /a boast,' he said, turning back to her, speaking almost viciously. 'I /am /experienced, you see, Mrs. Dew, and I would make far more demands on a wife than a sick man ever did. I daresay you would retract your kind offer to marry me in a moment if /I /made /you /a demonstration.' 'I would /not,/' she said, her eyes flashing back at him. 'I am not a child. And there is no cause for you to be angry. I have made a perfectly civil offer and you are quite at liberty to say no - though I do hope you would not then offer for Meg after all. /Make /your demonstration and I shall tell you if I wish to retract my offer.' Her nostrils had flared. She was angry.

He reached out and unbuttoned her cloak at the neck. He opened back the garment and sent it to the grass to join her bonnet and gloves. 'You will not be cold for long,' he promised her angrily as he unbuttoned his greatcoat - though he did not take it off.

He set his arms about her - one about her shoulders, the other about her waist - and drew her against him. He wrapped his coat about her while lowering one hand to her buttocks and drawing her closer. 'Oh,' she said, looking up at him, her eyes wide and startled. 'Oh, indeed,' he agreed.

She was very slender. She had little shape - and yet strangely she felt very feminine.

He lowered his head to hers and kissed her. He encountered the soft pucker but would have none of it. He opened his mouth, pressed his tongue firmly against the seam of her lips, and invaded her mouth before she could think of clamping her teeth together.

She made a guttural sound in her throat.

But he was by no means finished with her. He explored the inside of her mouth, stroking against those parts that would inflame her, one hand spread over the back of her head so that she could not pull away.

With his free hand he opened the buttons down the back of her dress until he could nudge the fabric off her shoulders and run both hands along her back and then bring them forward to cup her small, firm breasts, pushed high by her stays. With a finger and thumb of each hand he rolled her nipples until they puckered and hardened.

He kissed her chin and her throat, moving his hands down her body to cradle her buttocks and hold her firm while he rubbed against her with his erection.

And he kissed her mouth again, simulating copulation with his tongue while he felt her fingers twine tightly in his hair.

It had been intended as a sort of lordly demonstration to an impertinent innocent who had played with fire. It had turned into something rather different. He had not expected to become sexually aroused. And if he did not soon put an end to what was happening, he would be laying her down on the grass, late February chill and dampness notwithstanding, and demonstrating something quite different again. /She /was doing nothing to stop it, dangerous innocent that she was.

Good Lord! This was /Mrs. Nessie Dew/! And it could not possibly be night and just a bizarre dream. It had gone on too long.

He moved both hands to her waist and lifted his head.

She gazed into his eyes, her own darker and deeper than usual. They were really quite blue, he decided. And by far her best feature. 'Your face should always look like this,' she said. 'Like what?' He frowned. 'Filled with passion,' she said. 'You have strong features. They were /meant /to be passionate, not proud and disdainful as they so often are.' 'Ah,' he said, 'we are back to /that, /are we?' 'I /still /do not wish to retract my offer,' she said. 'You have not frightened me. You are but a man.' She stooped to retrieve her garments and drew her cloak about her shoulders. She shivered, though he was not sure it was from the cold. 'But I know /you /do not wish it,' she said. 'And it is hardly surprising. I ought to have looked at myself in a mirror when I first thought of it. It does not matter, though. I do not think you will now offer for Meg after all, and that is all that really matters.' She pulled on her bonnet and tied the ribbons beneath her chin.

He turned to face the lake again. 'I am going back to the house,' she said. 'I am sorry if I have offended you. It is not that Meg dislikes you. It is just that she loves Crispin.

I am sure you will have no trouble finding someone eager to marry you when you go to London for the Season.' He raised his eyebrows and turned his head to look over his shoulder.

She was still standing there, pulling on her gloves, flushed and slightly disheveled from their embrace.

He wondered suddenly if she knew a pertinent point about him. 'You had ambitions to be a duchess, did you?' he asked her.

She looked blankly at him. 'Not really,' she said. 'Not at all actually.

Whatever would I do with a duke? Besides, I do not know any.' 'You know a duke's /heir,/' he said. 'Do I?' He continued to look at her over his shoulder until he saw comprehension begin to dawn. 'Mine is a courtesy title,' he said. 'It is my grandfather's junior title and was given first to my father and then to me on his death. If I survive my grandfather, I will be Duke of Moreland one day.' 'O.' Her lips formed the letter though he heard no sound.

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