“I thought you did not speak because you are haughty,” she confessed then, guileless as ever. “But that is not the way of it. I see that now. You are truly affected by interaction with others. Not by sounds themselves.”
Once again, the irritating Miss Christabella Winter was proving far too perceptive.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yes.”
There. He admitted his weakness, his inability to act as a proper duke ought.
Gill waited for her to recoil. To express her horror. To flee. Worse, to laugh at him.
Instead, she smiled. And,Lord help him, it was the most beauteous, genuine, pleasing smile he had ever beheld. It was a smile that burrowed its way into his soul. It was a smile he would never forget. It was a smile to surpass all others which would come after it.
“Oh, how fortunate, Your Grace,” she told him, that bewitching smile of hers deepening. “I know just the remedy for your ailments.”
“You do?” he was skeptical. Because no woman had ever spoken to him this much. He inevitably seemed to scare them away.
“Yes.” She tilted her head, her gaze one with his. “Me.”
Chapter Three
“You?”
The Duke of Coventry’s voice was incredulous. And icy. Indeed, it echoed in the chamber as if it had been a shot fired from a pistol.
Her courage flagged.
Perhaps she had been wrong after all.
But, no. She would not retreat. She had already come too far.
“Yes,” she said, tipping her chin in defiance, daring him to naysay her. “Me. I am the remedy for your ailments. Not that I wish to brag, but I would be remiss if I failed to mention that I have now calmed you into speaking with me on nothing short of two separate occasions.”
Which, of course, she had.
And, naturally, she wanted to know why.
But also, she had already settled upon her brilliant notion of teaching the Duke of Coventry to kiss. The two of them could practice together. And then, he could garner the courage to woo another lady of his choosing, and she could go on to practice her wiles upon a deserving rake.
There were only two small problems with her plan. One: she was no longer certain lack of experience was the duke’s only romantic impediment. Two: she was no longer certain she could kiss the Duke of Coventry and then blissfully encourage him to court another woman. Not now when she stood in such proximity to him, she practically felt his presence like a spark skittering over her.
But she would worry about these problems later. Perhaps. For the moment, Coventry’s delicious blue gaze was firmly fixed upon her, and she was soaking up his attention as if she were drought-ridden soil and he were the rain.
“You have vexed me into speaking,” he said. His tone was cutting.
She ignored the sting. “Have I vexed you, Your Grace? Specify how, if you please, so I may remedy my future comportment.”
He pursed his lips. Andheavens, how fine his lips were.
Perfectly sculpted, a delicious shade of pink. She wondered if they would feel as firm against her mouth as they appeared, or if they would be soft and lush. If they would give…
“You have been far too familiar,” said those luscious lips.
Oh.
Yes, she supposed she had. But she had never cared much for rules. Polite society was silly, as far as she was concerned. If there existed a book she was not allowed to read, she wanted to read it. If there was a word she was forbidden from speaking, she wanted to shout it. If there was a man she was not allowed to kiss, well, she wanted to kiss him.
Of course she did.
Especially if the man in question was the Duke of Coventry.
