“I don’t wish to livethere.” Moira shrugged. Now that she had dealt with the situation,she simply wished he would go away.
“Good day, Struthers.”Ainsely clicked on the reins and moved the phaeton back intotraffic. “I believe you.”
“Pardon?”
“You would rather live ina damp cave in Scotland than a prospering estate inEngland.”
“Yes.” While that had beenthe truth a few days ago, Moira was beginning to fret her dreams ofScotland would not come to pass. “Will you help me?”
He looked over at her and narrowed hereyes. “Help?”
“Find my Scottishhusband.”
His jaw tightened as if angered. Forthe life of her, she didn’t understand why. It wasn’t as if hewished to marry her. Well, he had almost kissed her, but that wassimply because of the moment, and their faces being so close. Undernormal circumstances, she was fairly certain he did not spend timethinking about kissing her at all, whereas she had thought quite alot about kissing him since the mishap in the parlor. Before hetook her home today, she would make sure they kissed. In themeantime, she had a husband to find.
“Very well.”
Moira sighed with relief and a bit ofdisappointment. If he were interested in making her his wife, hewould not help her find the man who would take her away. Even if,by the slightest chance, there was a small interest, Ainselywouldn’t pursue it. He lived in Yorkshire. Given those facts, hewas probably not at all that interested in kissing her again. Andif that proved to be so, she would simply have to change hismind.
Straightening, she scanned the crowd.“If you would point out the eligible bachelors and the locations oftheir estates, it would be greatly appreciated.”
The park was filled with bachelors,she soon learned. The phaeton didn’t move five feet without Ainselyrattling off a title or mister and location. None of them wereScottish. Two were Irish, so if necessary she would give them someconsideration. But how did her mother feel about Ireland? She wouldhave to ask. Of course, one must cross the sea to get there, whichmay be deterrent enough for her.
Up ahead, the crowd grew thick. Pippasat in a landau with Lady Heathfield. Her eyes were fixed on thesky. Moira followed her line of vision and sucked in abreath.
“What is it?” The concernof Ainsely’s voice brought Moira out of her shock. She pointed tothe sky.
“Who is that in theballoon?”
“One of my dearestfriends, Georgianna Bexley-Smythe, and I believe she may have justlanded herself in a pickle.”
“It doesn’t seem anyonehas noticed but a few.”
Moira glanced around. Ainsely wasright. Most of the park goers were turned, looking behind wherethey had come from. Pippa did the same, and Moira followed her lineof vision. Was that St. Austell? “What happened to him?”
Ainsely glanced back. “I am sure Idon’t want to know.” He clicked the reins and maneuvered thephaeton around and away from the crowd. Though curious as to whatwas occurring with Pippa and Georgie, Moira knew she would find outsoon enough. She was too disheartened by not finding one Scot inthe park to drum up enough interest.
Of all the gentlemen they had passed,not one would make a good candidate and, the longer she sat next toAinsely, the more she compared the others to him. It was enough tomake a young woman want to cry. Why was it so difficult to find theperfect husband?
When she glanced about, they were deepin the park. Ainsely pulled the phaeton to a stop beneath the shadeof a copse of trees. There wasn’t another soul around. They wereall probably watching her friend’s ruination in the balloon, orwaiting to see what St. Austell in his disheveled state wasabout.
Ainsely turned to look at Moira, andshe met his eyes. Was something on his mind?
Instead of saying a word, his handcame up, cupped the back of her head, and he brought his lips tohers. She wouldn’t have to make him kiss her after all.
She melted on contact. His lips werestrong, warm, and firm, and she attempted to kiss him in the samemanner as he kissed her. His other hand wound around her back, andhe pulled her closer as his tongue traced the seam of her lips.Moira would have pulled back from the shock, but he held her headin place.
This surely wasn’t right. Kissingdidn’t involve tongues, did it? She pulled back slightly, which wasabout all she was allowed, and opened her mouth to ask when heswept in. Her insides heated, and she had to clutch his shouldersto remain upright. Dear heavens. Who would have thought tongues hadanother purpose besides tasting food and talking?
Her body tingled, and the bindingaround her chest became tighter than when Beatrice had tied itaround her this morning, and she couldn’t catch her breath.Delicious warmth flowed through her veins and into areas much tooprivate to consider.
The hand behind her head skimmed downher back to her waist, leaving a trail of heat in its path, and upto her breast.
“Bloody hell.” Ainselypulled back and looked at her. “You have bound your breasts.”
Her face heated from embarrassment,and not the more pleasant warmth pooling inside. “Mother said theywere a hindrance and a distraction.”
“The same woman who hastried to change your hair and remove your freckles?”
Moira bit her lip andnodded.
“That woman knows nothingabout men.”
Moira pulled back, shocked at hisharsh tone.
Ainsely smiled at her and kissed hergently one more time. “Trust me in this, Moira. Your breasts areyour fourth best physical feature.”
“Fourth?” What was hetalking about?
A slow smile came to his lips, causinghis warm brown eyes to crinkle at the corners.
“The first is your face,when you haven’t applied concoctions causing what must have been anuncomfortable rash.”
Her face heated further.
“The second is your hair.Do not ever change the color you were blessed with. It reminds meof the morning sunrise.”
Oh goodness, she was becomingoverheated and they weren’t even in the sun.
“Third, your freckles.I’ve always had a weakness for lasses with freckles.”
She was in love. If she hadn’t beenbefore, but she may have been and just not realized it, shecertainly was now.
“And the fourth are yourglorious breasts. While they may be a distraction, I find them avery pleasant one.”
Goodness, was living in Scotlandreally
