“That would be lovely,” she agreed, unable to keep herself from glancing toward where Blade had been standing.
He was gone. No longer there, no longer watching. Just as well, she told herself, even as a steadfast ache began in her heart. Blade Winter was not for her. Nor was she for him. She had to sacrifice herself for the sakes of her sisters. She had a duty, and it was not to long for a most unsuitable man.
But then she thought of how easily and tenderly he had handled Miss Wilhelmina. She thought of the way he held her and touchedher, with such reverence. The way he had urged her to think of herself when no one else ever had.
Before she knew what had happened, she was standing in a room with Lord Chilton. Quite alone. She had been so deep in her thoughts, mind filled with nothing but Blade Winter, that she had been moving without conscious effort. Allowing Chilton to escort her where he would.
They came to a halt. “Lady Felicity, I admire you greatly.”
She stared up into his undeniably handsome face, and she wondered if he was saying what he thought he should say or if he truly meant those words. How could he admire her? Aside from dancing together at this house party, they had exchanged precious few words over the years in London. Why, he hardly knew her.
Do not question it, Felicity. You need a husband. Now.
She blinked up at him. “I admire you as well, my lord.”
“We are beneath the mistletoe,” he pointed out.
She had not known. She glanced up to find a sprig hanging over them, its white berries prominent. She knew why the mistletoe had been placed where it was. Kisses.
But whilst the prospect of kisses from one man in particular filled her with exquisite expectation, the notion of kissing Lord Chilton left her…
Well, chilled.
She was certain that was a pun he would not appreciate. But it was neither here nor there, for in the next moment, he had pulled her near, dipped his head.
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
She wanted to tell him no, but she knew she must not. Mayhap kissing Lord Chilton would prove to her that the way Blade Winter made her feel was nothing special. That the wild emotions swirling through her in the aftermath of every kiss she had shared with Blade were no different than the way any man who was adept at kissing would make her feel.
“I…”
The remainder of her response died beneath Chilton’s lips. His kiss was…firm. Warm. Dry. Facile, yet uninspiring. She kissed him back, moving her lips against his in the same fashion she had responded to Blade’s mouth. She waited for the frissons of desire to lick up and down her spine. Waited for longing to pool low in her belly. For heat and throbbing to blossom between her thighs as it had whenever she had kissed Blade.
Instead, she felt…
A curious, disappointed nothing. Not one single thing. No emotion, no sensations save a mouth pressed to hers.
Not a hitch in her breath, not a quickening in her heartbeat. She felt strangely unenthused. Almost as if she were removed from her body, watching someone else allow Viscount Chilton to kiss her.
But these were her lips. It was her body.
The kiss ended. Lord Chilton raised his head, looking down at her with a tender smile that only spurred a twinge of guilt deep within her.
“Lady Felicity, I am an ardent admirer of yours.”
She stared up at him, wondering if Blade Winter would ever say ardent or admirer. Undoubtedly, he would not. Instead, he would kiss her breathless and take her to the edge. To the point where she would do anything, forget her duty, her sisters, her future.
Chilton was waiting for her to speak, she realized belatedly. “Thank you, my lord. I am flattered.”
And disappointed.
So disappointed.
Because Chilton’s kiss had proven to her, beyond a doubt, that there was something special about Blade Winter. Something different.
Something that made her heart pound.
Her knees go weak.
