The golden light of the sunset clung to her cheekbones, caught in the curve of her neck, painted her in impossible warmth. She was doing nothing—nothing—and still he felt his self-control slipping like fine sand between his fingers.
He had always prided himself on being composed. The master of his own mind and body. But now, with her this close, looking at him like that—tight-lipped and pink-cheeked and maybe, maybe, just as unsettled as he was—Norman suddenly felt every inch a man and none of the duke.
“I should go,” she said abruptly, rising before he could say another word.
Kitty reached the edge of the garden walk before pausing. She looked up at the lanterns just beginning to be lit along the path. “Good night, Your Grace.”
He gave a little bow. “Sleep well, Miss McGowan.”
She was gone.
He stood there a moment longer, heart thudding against his ribs in a rhythm that felt both ridiculous and exhilarating.
Twelve
“You see, I can get up before noon,” Kitty declared as she disembarked from the dock, tugging on the ribbon on her bonnet with haughty self-satisfaction.
Norman—who was standing there, with his arms folded—glanced upwards to the sky. “I shall report it to the papers. Miss McGowan has risen in time for morning pursuits. A day of history.”
Kitty smiled. “I was thinking only about which game I would win next.”
He let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “Your arrogance has no bounds.”
“As it must be,” she replied carelessly.
Richard stepped forward, his shadow falling between them.”What my daughter lacks in punctuality, she compensates for in delusion.”
Norman had no time to respond before a sailor appeared at their side, respectfully nodding toward him. “Good morning, Your Grace. The boats await. Each will accommodate no more than four riders and the driver.”
Jane, positioned next to Richard, spoke up. “Then that is settled. We shall ride together.”
Kitty gazed across the still lake, where there were only a few boats drifting, slightly rising and falling with the calm water. The wind carried the pungent scent of fresh wood and damp ground, and the delicate caress of waterweed. The sun sparkled on the flowing water, casting shining reflections dancing in the light.
“You have some experience with an oar,” Norman said as he extended his hand to Kitty.
“I have excellent balance,” she substituted, settling in without a problem. The boat rocked slightly, but she regained her balance. “And you, Your Grace? Can I hope you will not spill us over?”
“I do not tend to drown my guests,” he answered, sitting opposite her. “Especially, if I am to be wed to them. But if I am losing yet another wager, no promises are made.”
Jane sighed. “Does every instance need to be a competition with the two of you?”
Richard cleared his throat from the dock. “Mind you don’t test that theory, Katherine. I’ve no desire to fish your bonnet from the reeds.”
Kitty opened her mouth to retort, but Norman spoke first, his voice laced with amusement. “Fear not. I’ve yet to meet a challenge I couldn’t master.” His gaze flicked to Kitty. “Though some prove more... rewarding than others.”
Kitty leaned back against the wooden bench, feigning thoughtfulness. “I would say no, but then how would we fill the silence?”
The boat pushed off, and they were floating down the lake. The gentle rhythm of the water hitting the wood was soothing, almost like in?—
“This reminds me of Venice,” Jane said. “Do you remember the carnival, Kitty?”
“How could I possibly forget? That gondolier who wore the plumed hat warbled for us so badly, we wished we could have thrust him into the canal.”
Jane giggled. “And still he followed along behind us for two whole blocks afterwards, believing he had won our hearts.”
“I would rather have given mine to the mask-maker we met,” Kitty chuckled at the memory. “At least he had some interesting stories to share about his romance-filled life.”
Norman, who had sat so quietly, finally spoke. “Is Marina Venetian?”
