As soon as they disappeared from sight, Alexander groaned and rubbed his face. “I cannot possibly play couples’ billiards.”
“Why not?” She raised her brows. “Is there some way to die from it? Their rank is as high as yours, and they’re perfectly respectable. Besides, you already played couples’ billiards with me at the le Ducs’ house.”
“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “Everything that happened was an accident.”
“Some of the best things in life happen by accident,” she told him. “The others happen on purpose. For example, by saying ‘yes’ when friends invite you to visit them. Unless...”
“They’re friends,” Alexander said quickly. “I’m not shy or a misanthrope. I just... always have something else I ought to be doing. If I say yes to them, I’ll have to say yes to everyone who asks, and then I’ll never have time to attend to my responsibilities.”
“Actually, no,” Cynthia said. “I receive far more invitations than I could possibly accept. I am indescribably talented at accepting only the best ones, and sending polite regrets to the others. ‘Polite regrets,’” she informed him, “are generally more socially acceptable than hiding behind a tree.”
“In your circles,” he muttered.
“What you need,” she said, “is to separate the ‘duke’ from the ‘duty.’ One is a thing youare, and the other is a thing youdo. Sometimes. When it fits in your calendar. Not all of the time, such as when you should be sleeping or relaxing.”
“There’s no time for relaxing,” he said.
“Then you’re doing the ‘duke’ bit wrong. Don’t you have a secretary?”
“Yes, but—”
“And a man of business?”
“Yes, but—”
“And presumably an entire army of bankers and solicitors to manage the piles of gold in your coffers?”
“A team of five,” he said. “And I wouldn’t claim ‘piles’ of—”
“Alexander, youcanlive. Youshouldlive. I don’t know who told you that your worth comes from working yourself to the bone attending to every detail yourself, but they lied. Your duty is to ensure the important things are accomplished. Disregarding your own needs isn’tvirtuous. It’ll send you to an early grave.” She poked at his chest. “That’swhat you should be afraid of.”
He stared at her for a long moment.
“Iamafraid of that,” he said. “I’m afraid of not doing my duty. I’m afraid of doing nothing but my duty. I’m afraid of taking time for myself only to discover I no longer know who that is.”
“Find out,” she said softly. “Let yourself try. At the least, being less tightly wound will help you terrify fewer debutantes.”
He sent her a flat look.
She grinned at him and smoothed his lapel. “It’s an excellent experiment. If being New Relaxed Nottingvale helps you to woo your bride, it’s practically an act of charity. You owe it to your future duchess to have less of a stick up your—” She cleared her throat into her fist.
“I thought the phrase was ‘stick-in-the-mud,’” he said drily.
“I changed the words,” she murmured.
He frowned. “Do you really think I’m boring and fusty?”
“No,” she said. “I thinkyouthink that. Some well-intentioned goose told you a duke is nothing but constant duty, and you’ve convinced yourself duty is all you’re good for. It’s not true, Alexander. You can be a good duke, a good friend, a good kisser, and a terrible billiards player all at the same time.”
His gaze heated. “A good kisser?”
“A mediocre kisser,” she said. “Actually, I cannot even recall your kisses. I forget them at once, and don’t want you to feel bad for not making much of an impression—”
He shut her up by whirling her behind the trees and covering her mouth with his.
Very well, she hadn’t forgotten a single detail about his kisses. They were melting, searing deliciousness that haunted her dreams and caused her skin to tickle with gooseflesh every time his eyes met hers.
She wrapped her arms about his neck and kissed him back.
