It's In His Kiss

intervention of the baron.

And while Gareth didn’t much mind Hyacinth learning the true facts of his birth, it was vital that it not happen until after the wedding.

Or after he’d secured its eventuality with seduction.

Gareth didn’t much like being backed into a corner. Nor was he especially fond of having to have to do anything.

But this…

This, he decided, would be pure pleasure.

Chapter 13

Only one hour later. As we have noted, when our hero puts his mind to something…

And did we mention that it’s a Tuesday?

“Enh?” Lady Danbury screeched. “You’re not speaking loudly enough!”

Hyacinth allowed the book from which she was reading to fall closed, with just her index finger stuck inside to mark her place. “Why,” she wondered aloud, “does it feel like I have heard this before?”

“You have,” Lady D declared. “You never speak loudly enough.”

“Funny, but my mother never makes that complaint.”

“Your mother’s ears aren’t of the same vintage as mine,” Lady Danbury said with a snort. “And where’s my cane?”

Ever since she’d seen Gareth in action, Hyacinth had felt emboldened when it came to encounters with Lady Danbury’s cane. “I hid it,” she said with an evil smile.

Lady Danbury drew back. “Hyacinth Bridgerton, you sly cat.”

“Cat?”

“I don’t like dogs,” Lady D said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Or foxes, for that matter.”

Hyacinth decided to take it as a compliment-always the best course of action when Lady Danbury was making no sense-and she turned back to Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron, chapter seventeen. “Let’s see,” she murmured, “where were we…”

“Where did you hide it?”

“It wouldn’t be hidden if I told you, now would it?” Hyacinth said, not even looking up.

“I’m trapped in this chair without it,” Lady D said. “You wouldn’t wish to deprive an old lady of her only means of transport, would you?”

“I would,” Hyacinth said, still looking down at the book. “I absolutely would.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with my grandson,” the countess muttered.

Hyacinth kept her attention diligently on the book, but she knew she wasn’t managing a completely straight face. She sucked in her lips, then pursed them, as she always did when she was trying not to look at someone, and if the temperature of her cheeks was any indication, she was blushing.

Dear God.

Lesson Number One in dealings with Lady Danbury: Never show weakness.

Lesson Number Two being, of course: When in doubt, refer to Lesson Number One.

“Hyacinth Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury said, too slowly for her to be up to anything but the most devious sort of mischief, “are your cheeks pink?”

Hyacinth looked up with her blankest expression. “I can’t see my cheeks.”

“They are pink.”

“If you say so.” Hyacinth flipped a page with a bit more purpose than was necessary, then looked down in dismay at the small rip near the binding. Oh dear. Well, nothing she could do about it now, and Priscilla Butter- worth had certainly survived worse.

“Why are you blushing?” Lady D asked.

“I’m not blushing.”

“I do believe you are.”

“I’m n-” Hyacinth caught herself before they started bickering like a pair of children. “I’m warm,” she said, with what she felt was an admirable display of dignity and decorum.

“It’s perfectly pleasant in this room,” Lady Danbury said immediately. “Why are you blushing?”

Hyacinth glared at her. “Do you wish for me to read this book or not?”

“Not,” Lady D said definitively. “I would much rather learn why you are blushing.”

“I’m not blushing!” Hyacinth fairly yelled.

Lady Danbury smiled, an expression that on anyone else might have been pleasant but on her was diabolical. “Well, you are now,” she said.

“If my cheeks are pink,” Hyacinth ground out, “it is from anger.”

“At me?” Lady D inquired, placing one, oh-so-innocent hand over her heart.

“I’m going to read the book now,” Hyacinth announced.

“If you must,” Lady D said with a sigh. She waited about a second before adding, “I believe Miss Butter-worth was scrambling up the hillside.”

Hyacinth turned her attention resolutely to the book in her hands.

“Well?” Lady Danbury demanded.

“I have to find my place,” Hyacinth muttered. She scanned the page, trying to find Miss Butterworth and the correct hillside (there were more than one, and she’d scrambled up them all), but the words swam before her eyes, and all she saw was Gareth.

Gareth, with those rakish eyes and perfect lips. Gareth, with a dimple she was sure he’d deny if she ever pointed it out to him. Gareth…

Who was making her sound as foolish as Miss Butter-worth. Why would he deny a dimple?

In fact…

Hyacinth flipped back a few pages. Yes, indeed, there it was, right in the middle of chapter sixteen:

His eyes were rakish and his lips perfectly molded. And he possessed a dimple, right above the left corner of his mouth, that he would surely deny if she were ever brave enough to point it out to him.

“Good God,” Hyacinth muttered. She didn’t think Gareth even had a dimple.

“We’re not that lost, are we?” Lady D demanded. “You’ve gone back three chapters, at least.”

“I’m looking, I’m looking,” Hyacinth said. She was going mad. That had to be it. She’d clearly lost her wits if she was now unconsciously quoting from Miss Butterworth.

But then again…

He’d kissed her.

He’d really kissed her. The first time, back in the hall at Bridgerton House-that had been something else entirely. Their lips had touched, and in truth quite a few other things had touched as well, but it hadn’t been a kiss.

Not like this one.

Hyacinth sighed.

“What are you huffing about?” Lady Danbury demanded.

“Nothing.”

Lady D’s mouth clamped into a firm line. “You are not yourself this afternoon, Miss Bridgerton. Not yourself at all.”

Not a point Hyacinth wished to argue. “Miss Butter-worth,” she read with more force than was necessary, “scrambled up the hillside, her fingers digging deeper into the dirt with each step.”

“Can fingers step?” Lady D asked.

“They can in this book.” Hyacinth cleared her throat and continued: “She could hear him behind her. He was closing the distance between them, and soon she would be caught. But for what purpose? Good or