He turned swiftly to see Frances peeking out. She stepped out of the space wearing a pretty white gown, a pink flower tucked behind her ear.
“Well, are you going to join me, or aren’t you?” she asked, a beautiful smile on her lips.
Lucas couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “I’d no idea you were here.” He strode over to her, but stopped just outside the alcove. It was safer outside the alcove. He wouldn’t be so tempted to kiss her one last time.
“I could tell,” she replied. “It took you long enough to toss those logs on the fire. By the by, what did Lord Clayton say in his note yesterday?”
Lucas dropped his chin to his chest and scratched the back of his neck. “He just needed to see me for a bit.” That much at least was true.
“I missed you in the dining room last night,” Frances said next, a coy tone in her voice.
Lucas lifted his chin and looked at her again. “I was, ahem, reassigned again.” That was somewhat true too. He simply failed to mention that he’d been reassigned to his bedchamber because of his hidden identity.
She plucked at one of the soft brown curls that sat on her shoulder. “You haven’t missed much. It’s mostly been a lot of love-sick young ladies swooning over Lord Kendall, who hasn’t even had the decency to deign to join them.”
“Really?” Lucas asked, clenching his jaw as the guilt gnawed at him. “What excuse was given?”
“None that I ever heard,” Frances replied with a sigh. “The only thing Lord Clayton said about Lord Kendall was that he doesn’t intend to stay long. But that certainly didn’t keep the young ladies from talking about him all night. Both nights.” She rolled her eyes.
“Was the conversation more interesting than Sir Reginald’s talk about the prince at least?” Lucas ventured, doing his best to smile.
“Hardly, but I wasn’t spared that either. Sir Reginald sat next to me again and did an awful job of attempting to be charming. Then he asked me to go walking with him in the garden this morning.”
Lucas lifted his brows. “Did you say yes?”
“No, I told him I had already made plans to walk in the gardens this morning, which is why you see this flower in my hair.” She laughed, pointing to the little pink bud.
“You’re beautiful, Frances,” Lucas breathed. “You should always have a flower in your hair.”
Her gaze keeping his, she stepped farther out of the alcove and stood not an inch in front of him. “Thank you, Lucas,” she whispered.
He tipped down his chin and watched her lips. Just one more kiss? The wicked thought sprinted across his mind. He couldn’t ignore it. Without question, a kiss was the wrong thing to do. He would have no excuse when the time came to tell her the truth, but something in him, some primitive part of him that still wished he could have her, told him that he needed one final kiss to remember her by. Afterward, he would have to tell her he was leaving, of course, but first, one more kiss.
He lowered his head and met her soft lips with his. He closed his eyes and relished the scent of her, the feel of her, the sound of her. He would always remember her standing in Clayton’s library wearing a white gown with a pink rosebud in her hair. Her image was burned into his memory forever.
His mouth opened and his lips slanted across hers, he pulled her tight against him.
“What do you think you are doing!” The loud shriek jolted Lucas from the cocoon of their intimacy. He pulled away from Frances, who looked equally startled, and spun around to see Lady Winfield standing in the doorway, a look of complete outrage on her mottled face.
The woman shut the door behind her with a loud thud and lowered her voice considerably before speaking through clenched teeth. “I’ll thank you to get away from my daughter.”
Instead of moving away, Lucas instinctively moved in front of Frances. Clearly, her mother had lost her senses and was even now stalking toward her daughter as if she might inflict bodily harm. He wasn’t about to let that happen. A second thought flashed through his mind. While Lady Winfield clearly hadn’t looked twice at him while he was serving her meals in the dining room, she might well recognize him if she got a good look at him after he kissed her daughter. So be it. He wasn’t about to let the woman hurt Frances, no matter what.
When Lady Winfield reached them, she pushed past Lucas, reached around him, and grabbed Frances’s arm.
Lucas moved to block the woman, but Frances cried softly, “Lucas, no.”
With a smug smile, Lady Winfield yanked her daughter to her side.
Lucas’s nostrils flared with anger, but he stepped aside, not wanting to make this moment any more awful for Frances.
“It’s a fine day when I have to come and pull mydaughterout of the arms of afootman,” Lady Winfield growled, her voice still low. Lucas could only surmise that she had determined the most prudent course of action would be to keep what she’d seen as quiet as possible. They were the only three in the library after all.
Thankfully for her, Lady Winfield unhanded her daughter, but soon pointed toward the door as she spoke to Frances in a menacing tone. “Walk in front of me. Now. Directly up to your bedchamber. Don’t you dare act as if anything is amiss. Do you hear me?”
That confirmed it. Lady Winfield clearly planned to pretend as if this had not happened. The only thing that kept Lucas from ripping off the damned itchy wig and declaring himself in love with Frances as the Earl of Kendall was the certain belief that that was not whatFranceswanted. She’d made it clear that she thought gentlemen of thetonwere high-handed when it came to getting what they wanted. The truth was, he wanted nothing more, but he forced himself to watch in silence as Frances walked slowly out of the library, her mother marching behind her.
Lucas cursed and clenched his fist. He cast about with no idea what he was looking for, perhaps something to throw or hit. Either would do at the moment. A small bit of color on the floor caught his attention. He glanced down. The rosebud lay on the rug at his feet. It must have fallen when Lady Winfield yanked Frances away from him. He leaned over, gently scooped up the small flower, and held it to his nose.
