They had strolled past towers of ale cups, Morris dancers, and musicians. Enjoyed tarts beneath the shade of a tree. Jack-in-the-Green had stumbled past several times, and they had paid homage to the May Queen.
Lady Emma had laughed and smiled as they danced, joked, and flirted. Somewhere along the way, the lady had captured his fancy if not stole his heart. She was unique, quite unlike any lady he’d ever kept company with—a rare mix of shy damsel and curious minx that stared his blood.
But through it all, they had not found her friends. Archer should be ashamed to admit that he was not actually looking. He knew he could not keep her at his side all night, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to do that very thing.
As they drew closer to the stacks of wood sets up like tepees in preparation of being lit, Lady Emma turned to him, her brow furrowed. “My nanny used to tell me that if I were to become separated from her, I should stay where I was until she found me.”
Archer smiled, memories of his own nanny saying something similar dancing through his mind. “Sage advice, I’d say.” He glanced around them at the gathering crowd. “I’d wager this would be a good place to remain.”
Lady Emma nodded. “Perhaps over there.” She pointed toward a small thatch of trees. “We will have an excellent view of the crowd, but also won’t be so noticeable. I have no wish to be recognized, and now that everyone seems to be gathering in one place, I fear we will stand out more.”
Archer trailed his gaze over her plaited hair and unadorned gown. She looked very much like the village girls, save for her regal posture. At a glance, no one would take her for a blue-blood, but if they looked closer… He nodded and proffered his arm. “Shall we?”
Emma wrapped her hand around his elbow, sending sparks of longing through him. As he turned to head toward the trees, Hiltoncroft caught his eye. Archer tensed.
His friend was ambling through the crowd, his head moving back and forth as though he were searching for someone. And Archer had little doubt that his friend was seeking him. He met Lady Emma’s gaze and said, “Do you trust me?”
“Of course,” she replied.
Archer swept her off toward the trees in one fast motion. He could not stand the thought of Hiltoncroft recognizing her.
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his friend. Instead, it was that he knew the man too well.
Hiltoncroft would never purposely ruin the lady, but he had a loose tongue when he overindulged in spirits, and this tale was too scandalous for him to remain silent about it.
There was little doubt that the next time Hiltoncroft over imbibed, he would tell whoever was near enough to hear all about this day. Archer’s stomach soured at the thought. He would do anything to keep Lady Emma’s name from Hiltoncroft’s stories.
He’d do anything to protect her—anything at all. He only hoped she would not get too vexed over what he was about to do. Devil take it! He had no choice.
“Forgive me,” Archer said as he spun Lady Emma around and pressed her back to the tree. He brought his lips to hers in a bruising kiss.
From this angle, Hiltoncroft would only see the back of his head, and Lady Emma was shielded from view. So long as she allowed it, Archer would kiss her soundly, and by the time they broke apart, Hiltoncroft would be gone.
Much to Archer’s elation, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sank into the kiss. Lord, she was sweet. His body reacted immediately. Wave after wave of passion swept through him as he lathed his tongue against hers.
“Archer, you devil.” Hiltoncroft’s voice broke through the fog of desire. “The bet is forfeit. You sent me after the Duchess of Thorne!” He bellowed.
Lady Emma stiffened in Archer’s arms, then broke away from the kiss to peer over his shoulder. “What?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Archer released her, though every part of him wanted to hold her tight. With his pulse hammering, he turned to Hiltoncroft. “You didn’t?”
“Of course not!” Hiltoncroft bellowed. “The moment I recognized the Duke and Duchess, I set out to find you.”
* * *
Emma stared dumbfounded at the man, her mind racing to process his words. It did not help that she was more than a bit shaken by the kiss she and Lord Linley had just shared.
Her belly fluttered, and her knees still quaked. She’d never imagined a kiss could be so all-consuming. So… marvelous.
Emma inhaled slowly as she tried to focus on the man’s words. Bet… Duke and Duchess… What the devil was he on about, and who was he?
She narrowed her gaze on him and asked, “Where are they? The duke and duchess?”
The man’s jaw went slack. “You’re the Earl of Haywood’s chit. What the devil.” He turned to Lord Linley and shook his head. “Did you know you were kissing a lady?”
Archer’s face took on a decidedly red shade as he stared at Hiltoncroft. He stalked toward the other man, his brow furrowed. “Be quiet. You’ll have everyone looking at us.”
“Too late,” another deep voice added.
