“‘If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this.’”Amelia began to quote Shakespeare, lowering her voice to a deeper tone. Head cocked, she stared at me with playful intensity. “‘My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tenderkiss.’”
Lately, she’d become more bold in her desire to exchange kisses whenever we were alone. I had indulged her whim. She would someday be my wife, and we’d do more than kiss in the near future. I was less than confident in my ability to please her as a man should please a woman. While I liked kissing Amelia, it was more about the connection between us than the burning passion that most men felt toward a woman. I loved her with all of my heart, which intensified the guilt over my confused state.
Noah snatched the fan from Amelia’s wrist and popped it open with a flick of his lean fingers. He lifted it until it covered his face, only revealing his eyes. The sunlight that peeked briefly through the clouds showed streaks of raven’s blue in his midnight hair. I ached to run my fingers through the strands and see for myself if the texture was silky like Amelia’s or coarser like my own.
“‘O Romeo, Romeo, why must thou be Romeo?’”
“I see you found a kindred spirit,” I said to Amelia, winking at Noah and trying not to blush at my boldness. We’d been inseparable before Amelia went to school and I to university. During those formative years, I was forced to take on more and more responsibilities. Being a duke never ended. One thing had remained the same: my shameful urges for other men and my deep love for Amelia.
Eyes alight with humor, Noah angled his neck, never once breaking character. “‘O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I’ll no longer be a Capulet.’”
“‘Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?’” She broke out into giggles, eyes bright with amusement. If she had the option to be on stage, I had no doubt she’d pursue such an endeavor. Like me, her fate was sealed the second I made the comment about wishing to marry her. I’d suggested she have a season without being encumbered for that very reason. I wished to be fair to her. She hadn’t appreciated it, but she’d done as I asked to placate me.
“‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy: thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What’s Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face.’” Noah placed his other hand on my sleeve, the weight of it burning a path right into my cock. A shadow of something exciting crossed his face, and by the way he studied me longer than necessary, sparked my imagination. He squeezed and continued to quote his line, “‘nor any other part belonging to a man.’”
I nearly tripped over myself. Surely I imagined him emphasizing the line for my benefit. I snapped my head up to see if Amelia noticed the veiled innuendo. If she had, there were no outward signs. She was an innocent lady, after all.
“‘O be some other name!’” Noah finished with a flourish, grinning at Amelia before his intense regard settled on me.
“Bravo,” Amelia said, removing her hand from his arm and taking her fan from him. A pretty flush brightened her cheeks, along with a familiar gleam of passion in her eyes. Was it for my benefit or Noah’s? “Had I known Noah was such an excellent thespian, I would have suggested we put on a play.”
“I hardly think I am an excellent thespian, more like a mimic who can recite words.” Noah shrugged and palmed the back of his neck. “I will leave the theatrics up to others more comely than myself.”
“By comely, I assume you mean Amelia,” I said with mock affront. My deviant desires might have gained in strength, but my devotion to Amelia never faltered. No matter if I gave in to my passions or not, it had nothing to do with my dearest friend. Men of my station kept mistresses without compunction. It was the way of things within my class.
Rich laughter met my comment. The elusive light was back in his eyes. “Of course, why would you assume otherwise?” he asked.
“Why indeed?” Amelia asked. She opened the fan and waved it before her face.
Lady Ellen, Countess of Brimley, stood in the doorway, and my smile fell. Per usual, not a single ginger-colored hair was out of place. The lightness of moments before was replaced with a new tension as chilly eyes zeroed in on Amelia. “Amelia, what are you doing outside without your bonnet? The sun will not be kind to you without it.”
My dislike of the countess flared brighter every time I heard her demean Amelia. I hated how Lady Ellen treated her daughter and had to bite my tongue more often than not while in the countess’s presence. Once we were wed, Amelia would no longer be subjected to her mother’s ill humor. Until then, it was best to placate Lady Ellen.
“We were just coming inside,” Noah said, coming to Amelia’s defense.
The smile disappeared from Amelia’s plump lips, and humiliation drew lines between her arched brows.
“Regardless, freckles are not becoming.” Lady Ellen lifted her lashes and met my direct stare. I could read the chastisement in her stiffened demeanor. “A man does not wish for a wife who neglects her own person.”
“Freckles or no, Amelia will still be pleasing to the eye,” I said, ready to defend Amelia. Lady Ellen’s chastisement had more to do with me than her. I had told everyone I planned on marrying Amelia when I was six years old, a mere child who did not know what I was saying. She took my word seriously, but it was more than apparent she didn’t like me. The revelation didn’t hurt my feelings, but her disdain for Amelia continued to rankle me. “And I will proudly defend her honor if anyone dares to disparage her for something as inconsequential as a freckle.”
Lady Ellen released a derisive snort. Her rude response hung in the air. She could be harsh in her manners. As a countess, most dared not correct the slight, but I was a duke.
A muffled shout from someone on the street beyond the garden broke the tension building between me and the countess. I squared my shoulders and offered Amelia a nod of support before looking down my nose at Lady Ellen the way my grandmother taught me. “Anyone.”
Footsteps sounded, and a servant appeared. “Luncheon is served, my lady.”
“Very good. Gentlemen, pardon us. Amelia needs to freshen up,” Lady Ellen nodded in our direction and stepped aside, motioning for Amelia to precede her.
A muted growl sounded from Amelia. Chin lifted, she stormed past her mother.
“That isn’t going to end well,” Noah said, his lips turned down in a grim line.
I curled my fingers into my palm and tried to cool my rising temper. “This is all my fault. If I’d simply asked for her hand at the beginning of the first season instead of at the end, she wouldn’t be forced to live underthatwoman’s roof.”
“No, none of this is your fault. You made a promise, and a period of mourning compromised that promise.” Noah rested his hand on my shoulder and exhaled a long breath. “Lady Ellen’s grief makes her harsh.”
The unexpected warmth of his hand went straight to my cock. Rarely had I let anyone touch me—especially another man—for fear of revealing my darker side. My physical reaction brought a layer of shame. We were having a serious discussion, but all I could think about was his hand. “Her animosity toward Amelia isn’t something new, and my last-minute change of plans to propose seemed to make it even worse.”
