He slid the hand on her shoulder across her collarbone, while he slid his other around to the front of her stomach, holding her even closer, her back to his front. He lowered his head and inhaled the clean scent of her hair. There was no perfume that he could discern, just a soft, femininity that was solely hers. “Would you still tell me to stop if I did this?” He placed his mouth at the curve where her slender neck met her shoulder and kissed her lightly, even going so far as to dart his tongue out to taste her soft flesh.
A shiver passed through her midsection and her breathing hitched. Her words might say one thing, but her body was telling him something else entirely. He glanced around the empty hall, and then paused to pull her to a shadowed alcove beneath the stairs.
“What are you—?”
She started to protest his actions, but he smothered any further denial with a kiss. And not just any kiss, but one that told her that she wasn’t the boring creature that she might have imagined she was, but a beautiful, desirable woman.
One of his hands lifted to caress the underside of her breast, and she moaned against his mouth. He loved her response, for it told him that beneath that hard shell she presented, she was passionate, a quality that he highly admired.
“Lord Dalhousie?”
Carew hastily released Miss Hargrove, although it was with more than a little reluctance. He turned to face Marcus, who was standing a few feet away. He wondered how long the earl had been standing there before he’d made his presence known.
“My lord,” Miss Hargrove said rather breathlessly. She walked into Carew’s line of vision and he saw her pat her hair and smooth her dress, as if ensuring all was in place. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just going upstairs to bed…” He saw her cheeks pinken. “To my bed… in my chamber.Alone.” She released a frustrated sigh, and ended with a mumbled, “Good evening.”
Carew watched her ascent up the stairs until she reached the top and disappeared. “My, my. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work this fast,” Marcus murmured. “It was a good thing I interceded when I did, because it looked like you were enjoying that embrace far too much.”
Carew clenched his jaw. “You better keep this between us.”
Marcus held up his hands. “I’m only doing you a favor in honor of our wager, remember? To step in when I think things are getting too treacherous.” He lifted a brow. “It’s only been one day, and already I can see I shall have to keep a sharper eye on you unless you want to see yourself in front of a vicar before the week is out.”
“You make it sound as though I’m a green lad with no control over myself,” Carew snapped.
“So, this is all part of your plan?” Marcus snorted.
Carew yearned to pull at his cravat, but he refrained. “I said I would do my best to be a devoted suitor, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“Devoted and besotted are two different emotions, my friend.” Marcus glanced at the alcove. “And from where I stood, those lines looked oddly crossed.”
Not someone who was generally forced to explain his actions, Carew stepped forward and said, “I can handle Miss Hargrove and keep my dignity intact.” He patted Marcus on the shoulder. “So I shall not be conceding defeat just yet.”
The next morningwhen Dulcenia arose, there was no need to pinch her cheeks. This time the heightened color on her face wasn’t due to anger. Every time she looked in the dressing table mirror while Lady Osbourne’s ladies’ maid attended to her hair, she was hard pressed not to blush with renewed embarrassment. How could she have let LordDollhousetake such liberties? Again? She couldn’t claim that it was her lack of sight that was the issue this time, because her spectacles had been firmly in place.
She would have dropped her head into her hands if it wasn’t for the pins that were currently being shoved into her scalp to keep her coiffure in place.
Instead, she decided to fret about how she might twist her ankle to keep from participating in the group activities of the day. She had never been good at hitting a target in archery or striking a mallet in croquet. Her strengths were more subtle, like watercolors and embroidery, and even then, she knew ladies who were much more accomplished. As a lady, her father had employed a governess to ensure her education, but like the rest of the occupants in the household, she was much older. More often than not, she would be found dozing in a chair rather than ensuring Dulcenia was doing something other than her usual daydreaming.
There had been many times since that Dulcenia had lamented the fact she hadn’t tried to be more skilled at… something, other than being awkward at everything. She did like to read, but unless a gentleman wanted a particular lesson in philosophy, which generally wasn’t the case, she had always been lacking when it came to genteel conversation.
Until the marquess, that was.
He was the only man, other than her father and their butler, that she didn’t actually trip over her tongue. In truth, she enjoyed their sparring matches and although she was dreading the day ahead, if she could find a way to engage the marquess into another verbal battle, it might not be such a terrible afternoon.
“You look as fresh as the morning dew.”
Dulcenia smiled at Lady Osbourne when she strode into the room with a satisfied smile. “I knew that pastel green would be perfect. All it takes is the right shade to turn plain brown hair into a remarkable chestnut.”
She glanced into the mirror, but Dulcenia couldn’t see the same remarkable change that the lady obviously did. Nevertheless, she brushed off her insecurities and rose to her feet. “Will you be coming down for breakfast?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not.” Her chaperone shook her silver head. “The duchess and I have some personal matters to discuss once she is free from playing hostess. Besides, this house party is for the young to engage and converse, and hopefully, secure a proposal.” She winked at Dulcenia. “How does it go with Lord Dalhousie?”
She could tell that her cheeks were burning with guilt, but she calmly said, “He is amenable.”
The lady’s gaze was shrewd, but she said simply, “I see. Well, there is still time to ensure his affections. Just be yourself, and you can’t go wrong.”
Dulcenia frowned. “But I thought you said—”
The lady waved a hand. “I know what I said, but at the end of the day, a man appreciates a genuine heart and that is something you have in abundance, my dear.” With a friendly pat to Dulcenia’s cheek, she departed.
