The way he said her Christian name sent an illicit thrill down her spine. She should protest. Instead, she fought a traitorous smile. “Then it’s fortunate you were here to save me.”
“Fortunate indeed,” he murmured, and for a heartbeat, she wondered if he meant it.
She turned to go, but her precipitate movement made her stumble. The hem of her dress snagged at her ankles, and with a cry of surprise, she went down. The world whirled.
The duke leapt to catch her, but she was already going down. She sprawled in an ungainly heap on the wet ground, her hands scraping against the cold stone of the terrace.
He reached out to her. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m all right, thank you,” she said softly.
Struggling to rise as graciously as she could, she pulled herself up, finding her gown snagged on a bramble bush.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake?—”
She pulled it hard.
The fabric tore, then ripped with a snapping rip.
She let out a gasp on her lips as she lost her balance once again.
The duke caught her in his arms, steadying her before she could fall. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her heart racing as he held her close, his grip firm against her tightly cinched waist. The fabric of her dress had shifted, leaving her legs exposed in a way that was nothing short of scandalous.
She saw his gaze dropping—temporarily—to the smooth skin of her thighs before coming back to rest on her face.
He held her a little bit tighter in his arms, as though he wanted to bring her closer. The space between them was gone. She could feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of him… intoxicating.
Then...
“Good heavens,” a voice exclaimed. “I could have sworn I saw the Marquess of Grewin and Miss McGowan approaching.”
Cynthia.
The words sent Kitty’s spine tingling. As if invited by some malignant twist of destiny, a small cluster gathered at the top of the terrace, eyes widening at what they witnessed.
A young lady whose dress was ripped to indecent lengths.
A gentleman—his arms around her.
A shared gasp of shock rolled through the assembled throng.
Kitty remained frozen.
And then?—
“Kitty?”
Her father’s voice.
Richard McGowan forced his way through the crowd of assembled faces, his own twisted with confusion and growing horror as he took in what was being said.
His eyes flashed to Norman.
“You have ruined my daughter. Now, you must marry her!”
Four
“You will marry him, Kitty. That is final.”
