He shook his head, looking confounded. “I supposed that’s what happens when you let your chaperone sit on top.”
She shrugged.
“Very well. From here on out, I shall be on my best behavior,” Lord Burnley promised.
That was a little disappointing, but Adelia assumed another impulsive kiss might be forthcoming in any case. Unless…
“Didyouenjoy it?” she asked.
His eyes widened briefly. “The kiss?”
She nodded. If he said no, she might want him to turn the carriage around after all. For it would be mortifying to have a man take such a liberty and not appreciate it.
“Yes!” he assured her. “Very much. It’s just, I’ve never been asked.”
“Truly?” She couldn’t imagine not wanting to know.
“I think most women assume the man enjoys kissing them,” he mused.
“And do you?”
He frowned. “I do not believe this is a proper course of discussion.”
“Isn’t it?” Adelia asked, wondering why not.
“I think I know why you stay quiet most of the time.”
She drew back, feeling rebuked. Strangely, he had seemed the sort of man to whom she could say anything.
“No, please,” Lord Burnley begged at once, leaning forward again and taking both her hands in his. “Do not go all sullen and silent on me. I spoke in jest. For years, I haven’t heard a word from you, and now every other phrase out of your mouth seems provocative. You are the most refreshing female with whom I’ve ever conversed. I am repeating myself when I say you are not like most women.”
“We are all individuals, are we not?” She certainly didn’t find men to be similar creatures at all. Her father had been brutish, and her brother was like a knight, but most men frightened or bored her. Then, there was Owen Burnley.
“Yes,” he agreed, “but many, if not most, on the marriage mart are more similar than not. Let me think about your questions.” He cocked his head. “No female has ever asked me about a kiss because I believe they don’t really care whether I’ve enjoyed it or not. They want me to kiss them to display some sign I shall propose marriage in the near future. Inevitably, they are disappointed when I kiss and walk away.”
He hesitated and, still holding her hands, smiled at her. “Honestly, that was one of the most satisfying kisses I’ve ever had.”
“For me, as well,” she could say truthfully.
His smile grew, and she didn’t think he knew it was her very first kiss.
“I am glad you asked me whether I liked it,” he confessed.
“I wouldn’t mind doing it again,” she told him, feeling less shy about speaking her mind. “Sometime. If you wish.”
Again, he wore an expression of utter surprise, perhaps even shock. She drew her hands from his and sat back, seeking to reassure him.
“I am emphaticallynothoping for a marriage proposal.”
He hesitated. “With me? Or with anyone?”
“Oh, with anyone,” Adelia clarified. The words were flowing off her tongue as water from a fountain. Never had she been able to converse so easily with anyone but Thomas.How could she be so on edge with excitement around Lord Burnley and so comfortable at the same time?
The viscount shook his head. “What do you hope for your future, my lady?”
The carriage rocked to a halt before she could make any further blunders, such as confessing her desire to remain a spinster. Nor would she disclose her hopes for the success of her silly scribblings, which she sometimes fancied good enough for publication.
In fact, she would dearly love to have someone smart and well-read look over her finished stories, but she doubted Lord Burnley would have the same taste in fiction as she.
