“You can’t come to my bedchamber,” she told him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“I have to see you though—as often as we can manage it. Tell me you want that too.”
The moon shone down, bathing him in a silver halo of light so he looked magical and mysterious. If she was shrewd, if she was clever, might she be able to keep him for her very own? Or perhaps, could she have him for a while? If she had some fun before she became engaged, how could it hurt? Who would ever know?
“I want to be with you again,” she firmly declared. Of that fact, she wasn’t confused at all.
He shuddered with relief. “If you’d refused, I can’t predict what I’d have done.”
“We’ll have to be cautious.”
“Of course we will be.”
“No one can ever discover that we’re flirting.”
“It’s more than flirting,” he insisted.
“Maybe.”
“The more we dally, the more you’ll understand.”
“Tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll find an excuse to sneak off.”
“I will absolutely die a little bit until then.”
She chuckled and shook a finger in his face. “Mind your manners, Mr. Falcon, and guard your wicked tongue.”
“I never mind my manners. Haven’t you figured that out?”
He pulled her in so the front of her body was crushed to his. He kissed her hard, kissed her fiercely, then said, “You’re mine now. I can’t allow Lord Barrett to have you.”
“My father might have something to say about that.”
“Bugger your father,” he crudely muttered. “If he would select such an unsuitable candidate, why would you listen to him on any topic?”
“Why indeed?” she mused.
She was anxious to escape, and she stepped away, but he tightened his grip on her hand. He was that determined to keep her with him.
“You can’t go,” he said. “Not yet.”
“I have to. My aunt will have been searching for me.”
“Let her search. I don’t care if she worries.”
“I do.” She stared at him forever, then sighed with gladness. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You better mean it.”
“I mean it,” she responded.
She whipped away and ran to the manor, recognizing—if she didn’t force herself to part from him—she’d have tarried all night. She continued to run until the lights from the windows illuminated the garden and she could have been observed racing toward the verandah.
She slowed and walked up the stairs and, because she couldn’t resist, she stopped and glanced back. As she’d hoped, Mr. Falcon had followed her to be certain she arrived safe and sound. He was down in the grass, watching from the shadows, his focus intense and riveting.
His expression was smug, as if telling her she’d wind up giving him whatever he sought in the end. The notion was terrifying and thrilling.
She flashed a smug expression of her own, informing him he might have met his match. Then she spun and sauntered inside, positive he would remain transfixed until she vanished in the crowd.
“Fish tells me you’re sweet on Lord Barrett.”
Libby glared at Simon. “Maybe Fish should mind her own business.”
“Are you sweet on him? More importantly, is he sweet on you?”
They were trotting down a country lane, just the two of them having taken a pair of Lord Roland’s horses for a ride. They’d grown up around horses, but their situation was never sufficiently stable that they kept their own animals. It was always delightful to have someone open his barn and allow them to entertain themselves in a way they relished.
“It doesn’t matter if Lord Barrett and I enjoy a heightened affection,” she said. “The only role I could possibly play for him is that of mistress, and you’re aware of my feelings about that sort of relationship.”
“And you’re aware of mine,” Simon cockily retorted. “If a rich idiot wants to toss his money at you, why not let him?”
“You sound too much like Harry for my liking.”
Simon snorted. “My dear old father was a fool about many things, but he was never wrong about the advantages that could accrue from hitching your star to the right wagon.”
“Where did it get him in the end?” Libby asked. “He died poor and disgraced, having been ignominiously shot by a jealous husband.”
“No, he died happy, living an exciting life in which he reveled to excess.”
Libby rolled her eyes. “You have his peculiar view of the world. It’s clear Fish and I have had no influence in molding your character.”
“I have plenty of character, and I’m smart enough not to waste my energy on ridiculous pursuits. I shrewdly expend it on vital amusements.”
“Such as gambling and womanizing?”
“Yes, and you haven’t answered my question. Are you sweet on Lord Barrett?”
Libby shrugged. “I suppose I am, and it’s exhausting to bump into him at Roland. I wish we could have peeked at the guest list before we agreed to attend.”
“Is he the reason you were so eager to scurry out of London?”
She’d been offered a contract for another three months at the theater where she’d been performing, but she’d had Simon decline it. They both knew that paying jobs were difficult to find, and he was irked at what he’d deemed a reckless decision.
“I need Lord Barrett’s interest to wane,” she said, “and I was certain if I disappeared while he was away from London, he’d forget about me. Now I show up in the country, and he’s here too. He and I are disgustingly besotted, and I’m afraid people will notice our attraction. I’d hate to hurt Lady Penny over it. She seems to admire me, and I won’t dampen her enthusiasm.”
“Would you like Lord Barrett to reconsider his engagement to her?”
“What do you mean?”
“I could probably throw a wrench in that arrangement—if you’d like me to.”
“I repeat: Meaning what? What are you talking about?”
“I’m becoming friendly with Lady Penny. In a few more days, I’m betting she won’t be all that sure Lord Barrett is the husband for her.”
At the comment, Libby’s pulse pounded
