“Well, perhaps itisgetting rather late.” Luke stood from his chair and rounded the table. “I shall take my leave for the night, Lady Charity.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back. If Seth had had any of his glass left in his grasp, he rather thought he would have smashed it into smithereens in that moment.
Luke left, ambling in the doorway, though Seth waved him away once again. When the door closed rather loudly behind him, Charity turned sharply to face Seth.
“What did you do that for?”
“Your Grace, what did you do that for?” Charity asked again impatiently, determined to have an answer. She heard the duke stand from the table. She rather thought he was standing over her, for she could hear his heavy breathing, but she couldn’t be certain. He felt close, so near, she half wondered if he was going to kiss her again.
The memory of their kiss burned in her mind. She nearly reached up, wanting to capture his lips with her own, then suddenly, she felt him moving away.
“I do not have to sit here and watch you flirt with my friend.” His voice grew distant as he crossed the room.
“Why should you care?” Charity drove her hands down to the table and stood sharply. She nearly knocked the chair over behind her, so had to scramble to keep it upright. “You have already said you have no wish to court or marry me. Why should you care if I flirt with your friend?” She received no answer as she put the chair back on its feet. “Your Grace, are you still there?”
Was it possible he had marched from the room already? And she had missed it in all the clambering?
“Your Grace—”
“I’m here.” He answered her and she found herself sighing with relief.
“Why should you care? You kissed me once, but you made it plain that you wanted nothing more—”
“Doesn’t make it easy.” His voice was back beside her. His footfalls must have been muffled by him walking across the rug. She started, turning against the table and practically falling upon it in surprise. His lips were near her again. She felt his presence, felt his lips brush her neck. Charity lifted her chin, wanting more of it, to open her neck to him, to feel the duke touching her. “Just because I know I should not kiss you, does not mean the desire hasn’t been there every waking second.”
His lips found a spot beneath her ear, and he kissed her. So overcome, her body tingled with delight and desire. Her hands reached up, and she was about to touch him, to hold onto the lapels of his jacket and pull him toward her, when he suddenly parted from her.
“I will not watch you flirt. Not with any man,” the duke said, his voice simmering with anger.
This time, she heard his footsteps as he marched away. They thudded, echoing loudly, then he left through the door and was gone.
Not with any man?
The words hit Charity as if she had been slapped by them. He cared who she flirted with. In fact, he did not want her to flirt with anyone.
“Oh.” It was the only sound Charity made as she moved back off the table and raised a hand to her face, realizing what she had done. By joining in with some of Lord Baxter’s flirtation, she had apparently caused Seth pain.
I thought he wanted to forget about that kiss. I had no idea he still thought of it.
Yet plainly, he did. The guilt swayed so much inside of her, she knew she had to go and apologize. Maybe if she did, they would understand one another better, maybe he would even consider kissing her again.
She hastened to the door through which he had left and stumbled out.
“Your Grace?”
She did not think about tracing her steps. She just kept walking, hoping and praying that she would find him from the last doorshe heard slam shut. When she found the door, she pushed through it and walked out, stunned when a sudden gale of cold air buffeted her body. She shivered, her whole body halting as she realized she had stepped outside.
Rufus barked. Out of nowhere, the dog appeared and followed her outside.
“Go back to the house, Rufus,” she pleaded. It started to rain as she walked forward. The great droplets of water fell in her hair and started running down her cheeks and neck in great rivulets. “It is too stormy out here. Go, go inside,” she pleaded with the dog and pushed him back toward the house.
The dog ran off, barking madly for someone’s attention.
“Your Grace?” she called, but as she shouted for him, a crack of thunder echoed overhead, and she flinched.
No…
She could return to the house. She could be cowed by her fear and escape back toward the safety of the building, and return to the mundanity of her life. But she feared that the duke was out here. She needed to talk to him, no matter what her fear was of the weather.
She walked forward once more, traversing the garden. She tried to find her way, reaching out to plants in the borders as she walked, but the plants were not where she had expected them tobe, and so covered in water, it was more difficult than usual to identify them.
