“You have a remarkable way with compliments, Your Grace,” she said instead. “I am sure I am not the first person to say so.”
“You are the first person who does without crying.”
“I find that entirely believable. Is that scowl natural or do you rehearse in the mirror?
“Years of practice,” he deadpanned.
Arabella felt exhausted all of a sudden, dealing with this man, so she hastened her step slightly in order to reach the haven of her home all the sooner. He chuckled a few steps behind her, in that uniquely mocking way of his, before she heard the echo of his shoes as he fell right beside her.
“You seem very determined to escort an accident home, Your Grace,” Arabella teased through gritted teeth.
“It is a matter of public safety. I take these seriously.”
“I didn’t know I posed a public danger,” Arabella turned to look at him.
“You do. To desserts for sure.”
Arabella realized that looking upon the Duke in broad daylight was a bad idea, not that anything in this case was a good idea anyway. The sun played tricks with his eyes, deepening the color but also softening it. To the point that she had instantly forgotten that he had insulted her.
“Well, Your Grace,” Arabella realized with relief that she was right outside her house. “Your public service is concluded. The hazard is safely delivered.”
She glanced at the shaded portico as if it were a sanctuary. Winnie passed her by to make her way to the side entrance, still waiting for her to go inside too. A few more steps, and this would be the last she saw of him. It was all going according to-
“I will call upon you for a promenade next week,” the Duke said firmly.
“You will not!”
Arabella’s reaction was visceral and was born out of pure shock. The plan was that he would be deterred, appalled, and completely give up the idea of marrying her after her little display at Gunther’s.
“I will not?” The Duke smirked, amused.
She realized with terror that the Duke didn’t seem the least deterred, appalled, or dissuaded.
“And pray do tell, Miss Arabella,” the Duke pulled closer right on the fine line of propriety, “why wouldn’t I call upon my future wife?”
The ground shifted under her feet.Future wife?This was not supposed to happen. With urgency, Arabella searched his face. The Duke seemed… entertained. He focused his look on her face, her eyes, and then her lips, the same lips that devoured a table and would probably still have crumbs if he hadn’t wiped them. His body leaned slightly down over her.
“So,” his hot breath fanned her face, “won’t you see me next week?”
His gaze was so intense, so powerful that it pierced through all her defenses. Arabella’s body shivered violently under such scrutiny, but she still couldn’t take her eyes off him.
“Oh, Miss, you are trembling,” Winnie broke the silence. “It is a bit chilly in the shade. Wait for me. I’ll fetch you a shawl.”
Arabella had one precious moment to stop her, but she couldn’t detach her eyes from the Duke nor articulate a sentence. And now they were alone, half hidden under the portico and the tall bushes.
One step, just one step forth, and Arabella’s back hit the sun-warm stone. He leaned even closer, and her eyes flickered to his lips. Was he going to kiss her? Her heart leapt at the thought, but it was not fear or disgust. It was anticipation.
Arabella realized that she wouldn’t mind if he kissed her, that she might even… want to feel if his lips were as soft as they looked. But once more, the Duke passed her jaw and let his lips stop at her ear. Not touching but breathing slowly.
“I know what you are trying to do,” he said, his hot breath setting her body on fire.
His breath was warm, steady, deliberate, while hers lost all sense of normalcy.
“You, Miss Arabella, gave quite a performance. I admire your dedication.”
If she couldn’t breathe steadily before, she was completely hopeless when she realized that the Duke not only had unveiled her plan, he seemed quite intrigued.
“Tell me,” he was so close his lips grazed her ear as they moved, “do you see me running?”
