“Do you as well? That would indeed wound me. I don’t care too much about the others.”
“I have not decided yet.” She lied. She did consider him dangerous. To her. It had nothing to do with duels or the past or any of the reasons everyone else treated him with caution. Even now, strolling along these garden paths, she was not her normal self. His proximity flustered her. Looking at him threatened to leave her tongue-tied.
Their path took them along the edge of an orchard abloom with flowers. “There is a folly in there,” he said. “A tiny domed Roman temple to the goddess Diana. The statue is antique.”
The fruit trees had not yet fully leafed. Sunlight dappled the paths beneath the branches. She thought she spied the dome. Joining Stratton when he ventured into the orchard did not concern her. They would probably come upon other guests among these apple trees.
The air cooled despite the splashes of sunlight. The folly stood in the far corner, near where the stone walls met. The marble goddess wore an animal skin and carried a quiver of arrows on her back. She bent to lace the sandal on a foot propped on a tree stump, against which her bow lay.
Clara mounted the three steps that circled the structure and passed through the arcade that held up the dome and framed the statue. “It is very realistic. The different textures have been depicted so accurately one thinks they will not feel like stone.” She ran her fingertips across the animal skin.
“It is probably early Roman. Brentworth’s father was a well-traveled man, with a keen eye for quality in art.”
She paced around the statue. He came into the folly, only he looked at her, not the goddess.
“You did not bring me here to admire this statue, did you?” she asked.
“I brought you here because you demanded I not call at your house.”
She turned to find him right behind her. Her heart rose, blocking her breath. Suddenly the orchard did not appear thin and open but instead dense and obscure. She could barely hear the sounds of the party in the open garden.
He lifted her chin with his fingers. “Had you not been so strict, I could have done this there.” He kissed her, softly at first but then more passionately. Sensations cascaded through her, so that she did not want to be at all strict right now.
He broke the kiss but kept his hand on her face. “I cannot allow you to spurn me, Clara. To deny this. I do not think you really want to either.”
She had been very sure of herself after their ride. Her mind had been most clear. Right now she could not remember what her thinking had been.
He spoke the truth, though. She did not really want to deny how alive she became when he kissed her. Considerations of his motivations ceased to matter then. She did not want to reject the pleasure or the flusters. She should, but she did not. She savored the way just seeing him excited her. She had dwelled within the memories of what happened on that hill for long spells ever since they last parted.
He kissed her again, and embraced her. The warmth of his body both comforted and entranced her. So good. Too good.
“If you repeat your command that I not call on you, I will have to pursue you into orchards and gardens all summer,” he murmured into her ear. “Discretion may become nigh impossible.”
Within her heady delight she vaguely noted that he had not stood down. He had warned her that first day that he never did.
Still, she should repeat her command. She should not do anything to encourage him. She should remember why these kisses were not only wrong but disloyal. Once this soulful intimacy ended, she surely would again care about all of that—
Sounds penetrated the silence around them. A giggle, and a man’s laugh. Not far away. Nearby, on the path.
Stratton abruptly released her and stepped out of the temple, leaving her alone with the goddess.
A beam of sunlight illuminated a white dress and blond head among the apple blossoms. With another giggle, Emilia stepped into the little clearing with the temple. Her companion’s face fell when he saw Stratton.
“Harry, how good of you to show Lady Emilia the way to this treasure,” Stratton said. “Her sister tried to find her before venturing here herself.” He pointed at Clara.
Harry saw Clara. So did Emilia. They both flushed.
Clara scolded herself while she fought to maintain her composure. In allowing the duke to once more bedazzle her, she had neglected her duty. Emilia was going to receive a very strong lecture on not being so stupid as to allow a man to get her alone like this.
“Come and see the statue,” she said. “It is impressive.”
Visibly relieved, Harry accompanied Emilia into the folly. They all admired the goddess together, then all walked back through the orchard and into the sunny garden.
Clara decided she and Emilia should take their leave. She dragged Emilia to Brentworth so they could thank their host. While they left, she saw Stratton near the benches, watching someone. Her gaze followed the line of his, directly to the Earl of Hollsworth.
Social niceties completed, she and Emilia settled into Theo’s coach for the ride to their respective homes.
“Did you have a good afternoon and enjoy yourself?” Clara asked, pointedly, as the necessary social lessons lined up in her mind.
