“What if that is what I want?” he asked her.
“I haven’t the foggiest what it is you want, Your Grace.” She stopped and turned her head upward to stare at him. “Do you truly wish to ravish me?”
God help him, that question put ideas in his head. Not that he didn’t have plenty of them to spare, but the idea of ravishing her. It appealed far more than it should. He suddenly wanted to turn and take her somewhere they would have the privacy needed to show her exactly how much he desired her. He would not do that though. He couldn’t. Especially now… She was only just now allowed to leave her bed and take a walk. Kingston would never take advantage of her in any situation. “What if I did?” he asked her. “Would you allow me to have my way with you?”
A small smile tugged at Jaclyn's lips, and it pleased him to know that she was momentarily distracted from her worries. That was what had prompted him to begin this conversation, and he hoped it would leave her with a smile after they separated. “I might,” she said. “But not today.”
“That gives me hope.” He flashed her a wicked smile. “One day I might have that pleasure.” He leaned down and said huskily, “And I promise, when that day comes you will have more pleasure than you could ever imagine.” Bloody hell, he wanted her. He should not have started this conversation. His entire body readied for her, for the moment he could take his time and savor her delectable body. He would kiss her everywhere… He nearly groaned at that but somehow, by sheer will alone, he kept it to himself.
Jaclyn rolled her eyes, though her smile widened. "I’m certain you would, Your Grace. But we both know that day will never come."
“Do we?” Kingston mused, his voice light with amusement. “I don’t think either of us knows what might or might not happen in our future. I never would have predicted we would be here now.”
She laughed softly, her steps slowing as they approached the edge of the hedge maze. She paused, glancing toward the twisting paths of the labyrinth. "Do you think," she began with a mischievous gleam in her eye, "that I could manage a full tour of the maze now, or should I admit defeat and retreat to my room?"
Kingston grinned. She had been walking for some time and must be weary. He did not wish for her to overtax herself. He would love to explore the maze with her. Inside it he could find plenty of alcoves to steal a kiss or two. With that in mind, he would gladly take her there another time. He had fought a duel over her, and they had never had the pleasure of a kiss. He would rectify that once she was fully recovered. "I suspect," he said with mock seriousness, "that you may need the fortitude of a much braver soul to conquer that maze in your present state."
She raised an eyebrow but nodded, a small sigh escaping her lips. “Very well. I shall take your word for it. Though I do think the maze would be more appealing if I were not so weak from being ill.”
“I suppose we can save that challenge for another time,” he said, his tone still teasing. “Shall we return to the house, then? I shall escort you back to your room, where you can rest and recover in peace.”
She looked at him, her expression softening. "I suppose that would be for the best," she said quietly, though there was still a glimmer of something playful in her eyes. "But I will not rest completely until I know I’ve properly shaken off the effects of that wretched pond."
Kingston couldn’t help but chuckle, falling into step beside her as they turned back toward the house. "Then I shall make sure that you have all the time you need to recover. But only if you promise to allow me the opportunity to properly seduce you later."
She shot him a mock glare. "But of course, Your Grace." But the teasing smile on her lips suggested she did not truly mean it. “I would never deny you the opportunity to attempt such a feat. I would hate to wound your pride unnecessarily.”
His laugher echoed around them. Cheeky chit… He shouldn’t be this content with her, but he had always found her to be a soothing balm. Even when he didn’t wish for it to be so. When he had been actively trying to avoid her… Even then he craved her. Kingston supposed it would always be like that with them, and it was good he had stopped fighting the inevitable.
They continued walking together, their lighthearted banter carrying them through the garden and back toward the house. As they neared the entrance, Kingston felt the weight of the earlier conversation settle back into his mind, though he kept his expression neutral.
"I’ll not let you go without rest," he said firmly, his tone shifting slightly as they reached the door. "And I insist on escorting you to your room to ensure you’re settled. I would not want you to overexert yourself.”
Jaclyn nodded, her expression turning more serious, but still warm. “I shall rest, but only because you insist.” She smiled. “Though I expect either Georgina or Charlotte will come to my room to ensure I am well.”
“They care deeply for you,” he said. “You are lucky to have friends that would do anything for you. I am fortunate in the same way.” Foxmoore and Easton were his closest allies, and they had always been there for him.
They reached the door, and Kingston held it open for her, stepping aside to allow her to pass through. As she entered the hall, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this, too, was something he was trying to protect her from—the overbearing care that would inevitably come with her brother's arrival.
Once the door had closed behind her, Kingston let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. As much as he wanted to pretend it was all well, the truth was gnawing at him. Jaclyn’s frail state, the upcoming visit of the Earl of Oakley—everything pointed to complications, and he feared for her well-being more than he was willing to admit.
His mind wandered to Oakley, to the man who thought he knew what was best for Jaclyn, and he couldn’t help but worry. Would Jaclyn be strong enough to keep him at bay? Or would the earl’s persistence wear her down? As much as he longed to keep Oakley away, he knew that Jaclyn’s strength and resolve were things she would need to find for herself.
And with that thought, he turned away from the door, his steps heavy with the weight of the uncertainty that lay ahead. Oakley would not like it that Kingston was in residence. It might prove to be like a lit powder keg on the man’s quick temper. Thankfully both Easton and Foxmoore were there to stand by his side. They would all ensure that Oakley would not do anything else foolish to damage his sister’s reputation.
He cared too much for Jaclyn, something he had fought for some time. If not for Oakley, there might have been something more between him and Jaclyn sooner. He couldn’t know with any certainty, but he had felt something from the start. When they had first met at Vauxhall he had been drawn to her. Was still drawn to her…
Taking a deep breath, he walked away from the door and into the grand hall. The sounds of the house… a distant murmur of servants preparing dinner, the clink of dishes. It all seemed too far away, too unimportant in comparison to what was stirring inside him. The conversation he had had with Jaclyn, the playfulness, the undeniable chemistry that simmered beneath every word, every glance—it was all starting to feel like more than just friendly banter.
He paused before turning into the library, his sanctuary when his mind became too muddled. But the thought of Jaclyn still lingered, like an unspoken truth between them. He had known she would be difficult to forget. But now, he was realizing the depth of the feelings he had kept buried since their first meeting.
Kingston’s gaze flicked to the large windows that overlooked the grounds. He had always been a man of action, a man who pursued what he wanted with unrelenting determination. Yet, in the presence of Jaclyn, he was unsure. He did not like that feeling and he was uncertain what his next steps should be. Nothing had ever been clear where Jaclyn was concerned. He needed answers. It was time to stop pretending that what he felt wasn’t powerful or just temporary.
The sound of footsteps approaching from behind interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see Easton entering the room. His friend gave him a look that spoke volumes with an unspoken question hanging in the air. “How is she?” Easton asked, his tone low and full of concern.
“Resting,” Kingston replied. “But she’s strong. I have no doubt she’ll recover fully.”
“And Oakley?” Easton pressed.
