“This feels odd,” she whispered.
Oh no, it feels amazing and so satisfying. Don’t stop.
Perhaps he could forgive her for thinking he’d stolen the dog from her sisters after all.
“And such an odd place to have buttons,” Miss Prim said, and crossed her arms over her chest as if she were studying her thoughts.
Suddenly her hands quickly sailed up the eight buttons on his waistcoat, to his neckcloth. “And how and why did you make your shoulders so wide?”
“Gwen, Lillian!” she said in a surprised voice, jerking her hands to her hips. “Don’t tell me you got into Lord Wayebury’s wardrobe and pilfered his clothing? You know better. He’ll have our heads!”
Bray clenched his jaw and, from strength he didn’t know he possessed at the moment, said, “It’s me, Miss Prim, the duke.”
She gasped. Her hand flew to her blindfold and she yanked it off. “You!” Her eyes looked as if they could spit fire at him. “How long have you been there?”
“Not long enough,” he said truthfully.
“Where did I—I mean—” Her voice faltered and softened in anguish. “Oh no! Did I touch you?”
Oh, yes and, it was exquisite pleasure.
It pained him greatly to do it, but he didn’t twitch an eye or let the corner of his mouth quiver in mirth as he nodded.
“I did, didn’t I? Merciful heavens!” She closed her eyes and groaned as she squeezed the black scarf in a tight fist. Her eyes popped open and she stared blankly at him. “Just shoot me right now and put me out of my misery.”
“I have no pistol,” he answered dryly.
“You wouldn’t shoot me anyway. You are too much of a devil, and you want me to be in this agony.”
He was in agony, too, but he doubted she would believe him, so he remained quiet.
“Tell me, did I do the unthinkable and touch you where—where I shouldn’t have? No,” she whispered earnestly, clearly confounded by wanting and yet not wanting to know what she had done. “What am I saying? I shouldn’t have touched you anywhere.”
Bray watched her cringe in mortification again. Her expression went from shock to horror to fury. Should he tell her the truth?
Miss Prim’s problem was that she still thought of herself as a vicar’s daughter. He wanted to shake that firm foundation out from under her, and he knew exactly how to do it so she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“Yes, Miss Prim, you touched me exactly where I wanted to be touched.”
Chapter 12
Out, damned spot! Out, I say!
—Macbeth,act 5, scene 1
“What? No! Oh no!”
Louisa felt as if the flames of embarrassment started at her toes and raced up her body to her face as fire through dry brush. She would never be able to look him in the eyes again.
“Yes, touched me exactly where I wanted to be touched,” he repeated.
“Dear sweet mercies! Don’t say it again,” she whispered.
Louisa had never fainted in her life, but her legs were so weak, she thought she might crumple to the floor.
“My heart, Miss Prim,” the duke added as calmly as if he were talking about the weather. “You touched my heart.”
Could she believe him? No, his answer was too glib. He was too self-confident.
