Lucas was risking something, meeting her today. Her maid interrupting them yesterday had been nothing if not a reminder of the dangerous game he was playing. If the young woman had only walked in a moment sooner, she might well have caught them kissing. As it was, she probably suspected something similar had happened. Lucas had been unable to sleep last night playing the scenario through his head.
What would have happened had Albina caught them in an embrace? They could have asked her not to tell anyone, but could they trust her? The most likely scenario would be that a scandal would result, and Frances’s reputation would be ruined. If she was caught kissing a footman, no man in the ton would have her. Not even that snake, Sir Reginald.
Of course, Lucas could offer her the protection of his name and marry her, but telling her his name would be the problem. She detested who he really was. That would hardly be the answer to such a debacle.
He should have stopped the kiss, shouldn’t have allowed it in the first place. He’d come close to resisting her, but in the end, the feel of her soft warm body pressed against his and her lips insistent and urging had been his undoing. He wanted her, he always had, and she felt right in his arms, which made the fact that he had to leave her even more loathsome.
When Lucas entered the library, the room was empty. Alarm tingled through his veins. Had Albina seen something after all? Had she told Frances’s mother?
In keeping with his usual routine, he set the logs next to the fireplace, removed his coat, and tossed the wood onto the pile.
Perhaps she was merely running late. Perhaps she’d decided to wait outside Lord Kendall’s room again. He expelled his breath. At least Lucas wasn’t in the room.
He finished with the logs, replaced his coat, and wandered over toward the table where she should be. He slid his hands into his pockets and stared out the windows absently into the gardens. Alarm had begun prickling along his skin once more when a noise from within the alcove caught his attention.
He turned swiftly to see Frances peeking out. She stepped out of the space wearing a pretty white gown, a pink flower tucked behind her ear.
“Well, are you going to join me, or aren’t you?” she asked, a beautiful smile on her lips.
Lucas couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “I’d no idea you were here.” He strode over to her, but stopped just outside the alcove. It was safer outside the alcove. He wouldn’t be so tempted to kiss her one last time.
“I could tell,” she replied. “It took you long enough to toss those logs on the fire. By the by, what did Lord Clayton say in his note yesterday?”
Lucas dropped his chin to his chest and scratched the back of his neck. “He just needed to see me for a bit.” That much at least was true.
“I missed you in the dining room last night,” Frances said next, a coy tone in her voice.
Lucas lifted his chin and looked at her again. “I was, ahem, reassigned again.” That was somewhat true too. He simply failed to mention that he’d been reassigned to his bedchamber because of his hidden identity.
She plucked at one of the soft brown curls that sat on her shoulder. “You haven’t missed much. It’s mostly been a lot of love-sick young ladies swooning over Lord Kendall, who hasn’t even had the decency to deign to join them.”
“Really?” Lucas asked, clenching his jaw as the guilt gnawed at him. “What excuse was given?”
“None that I ever heard,” Frances replied with a sigh. “The only thing Lord Clayton said about Lord Kendall was that he doesn’t intend to stay long. But that certainly didn’t keep the young ladies from talking about him all night. Both nights.” She rolled her eyes.
“Was the conversation more interesting than Sir Reginald’s talk about the prince at least?” Lucas ventured, doing his best to smile.
“Hardly, but I wasn’t spared that either. Sir Reginald sat next to me again and did an awful job of attempting to be charming. Then he asked me to go walking with him in the garden this morning.”
Lucas lifted his brows. “Did you say yes?”
“No, I told him I had already made plans to walk in the gardens this morning, which is why you see this flower in my hair.” She laughed, pointing to the little pink bud.
“You’re beautiful, Frances,” Lucas breathed. “You should always have a flower in your hair.”
Her gaze keeping his, she stepped farther out of the alcove and stood not an inch in front of him. “Thank you, Lucas,” she whispered.
He tipped down his chin and watched her lips. Just one more kiss? The thought sprinted across his mind. He couldn’t ignore it. Without question, a kiss was the wrong thing to do. He would have no excuse when the time came to tell her the truth, but something in him, some primitive part of him that still wished he could have her, told him that he needed one final kiss to remember her by. Afterward, he would have to tell her he was leaving, of course, but first, one more kiss.
He lowered his head and met her soft lips with his. He closed his eyes and relished the scent of her, the feel of her, the sound of her. He would always remember her standing in Clayton’s library wearing a white gown with a pink rosebud in her hair. Her image was burned into his memory forever.
His mouth opened and his lips slanted across hers, he pulled her tight against him.
“What do you think you are doing!” The loud shriek jolted Lucas from the cocoon of their intimacy. He pulled away from Frances, who looked equally startled, and spun around to see Lady Winfield
