To his relief, Lady Caroline finished his thought. “Shrubberies,” she offered, tilting her head mischievously.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Lord Diamond, let me be clear. Normally, without a chaperone, I would not go beyond the boundaries of the ballroom with any man. But I shall go outside with you for one simple reason. I fear this may be a singular opportunity for us to speak privately. My mother will surely catch wind of our dance, and I believe I shall not be allowed to have another.”
She was a reasonable female, which he appreciated. Yet he could not credit this was their one chance to be alone. He already liked her more than any woman he’d ever met. It was premature, irrational, and lunatic, but it was the bald truth.
“I understand,” he told her, “although I cannot say I am happy to hear it. It seems unfair to set limitations upon us because of anything that occurred years ago.”
“And that is why I will venture outside with you.”
With a hand on the small of her back, he propelled her from the ballroom once again, toward the refreshment salon across the hall. Yet instead of entering with other revelers, they turned and walked swiftly along the hallway to the back staircase. In a flash, they were downstairs at the door to thegarden, which turned out to be the tiniest plot with a few rose bushes and a single tree.
They stopped short on the stone terrace. You could even smell the mews behind the garden wall. No one would believe they were out there admiring anything except each other.
To his delight, she started to laugh at the absurdity. Geoffrey squeezed her hand and stepped onto the grass.
“It’s a fine hazel tree,” he said, gesturing to the single stunted plant.
“I believe it’s a birch,” Lady Caroline said, “and not the least bit fine.”
“Let’s circle it and see it from the other side,” he suggested, emboldened by her acquiescence.
He’d always imagined ladies to be skittish and prudish, a far cry from the flash mollishers he visited at the best bawdy houses. Years earlier, he’d briefly escorted a lady whom he met through her brother, a fellow university student. A marquess’s daughter, she had pursed her lips at everything Geoffrey said, yet still, he’d persevered for two weeks.
Unbelievably, without so much as a kiss, she had demanded a declaration of intent if not of actual love. At the tender age of twenty-one, he had not been remotely ready.
Seeing no point in forming an attachment to a female in whom he had no interest marrying, he’d gradually started a regular routine of engaging the excellent services of high fliers, usually keeping one of the experienced, polished whores for as long as six months.
When the time was ripe for taking a wife, Geoffrey had always planned on ceasing what some might consider to be libertine ways and become a dedicated husband, as his own father purported to be — despite what Lady Chimes might think of him.
It seemed only fair and right.
They circled the tree and were on the far side where the lamps inside the house no longer shone directly upon them.
Strangely, as he looked down at her under the moonlight, he felt a little unsure. While his body urged a smoldering embrace with her crushed against him, he reached out and trailed a gloved finger down her cheek.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” he said.
“As am I. I admit I was curious about you. After my mother’s refusal at Lord and Lady Fenwick’s ball, I asked my aunt the reason.”
“I asked my mother the same thing. I had never heard anything about your family before.”
Stepping closer, Geoffrey took hold of her hands.
“Regardless,” he added, “I appreciate how you didn’t let any bitterness between our parents stop you from dancing with me.”
She nodded before her gaze dropped to where their hands were clasped.
Not wanting to waste another moment at the wondrous opportunity to be alone with her, Geoffrey slowly drew Lady Caroline closer, his heart thumping at the notion of kissing the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
He knew they should spend time talking frankly, but what if she was never again allowed to be anywhere near him? This could be his only chance, and a single kiss might prove them entirely unsuited. With that knowledge, he could put thoughts of this flame-haired lady aside.
Briefly wondering if he should ask permission to kiss her, or if that would mark him as a noodle-head, he heard himself say, “May I?”
Yet by then, it was too late. He was already lowering his mouth to hers. In the next second, he kissed her, and a tendril of passion unfurled inside him at her taste, blossoming into white-hot desire. They’d sipped the same punch, yet her mouth had the additional flavor of orange blossom and lavender flowers. He could both smell the delectable scents and experience them upon his tongue.
Releasing her hands, he slid his arms around her waist, enjoying her surprised gasp. With her lips parted, Geoffreygently slid his tongue between them. To his joy, he felt her melt against him, with her hands suddenly behind his neck, hanging on.
