Sterling gave a curt nod, realized she most likely couldn’t see him through the oak’s twisted maze of limbs, and bit out, “Yes.Yes, I’m clucking. It isn’t working. Maybe if we return tomorrow–”
“Sir Reginald can’t spend the nightoutside,” she said, aghast.
Once again, Sterling considered the merits of reminding Rosemary that while domesticated, her pet was a wild animal. But it was clear that neither of them were capable of thinking sensibly at the moment, or else why would he be in a tree clucking at a squirrel like some lunatic escaped straight from Bedlam?
It was the kiss. It had addled their minds. Or maybe his mind was already addled to begin with. That would help explain why he hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself. Why no sooner had he seen Rosemary again than he was possessed with the urge to taste her. To touch her. To pick up right where they’d left off at Hawkridge Manor as if not a day had passed.
Bollocks.
What waswrongwith him?
Had he no redeeming qualities left?
Every rogue worth his salt knew that you never, ever kissed an innocent at a ball. Besides being the plot of every country house novel gone awry, it was simply a bad idea. No good could come of it. No goodhadcome of it, given that he was currently ten feet up in the air holding on to a tree for dear life while trying to coax a belligerent squirrel onto his shoulder.
If he told this story later at the pub, not a soul was going to believe him. And he wouldn’t blame them a bit. He hardly believed it himself. If Sir Reginald didn’t show his whiskery little face in the next five seconds–
Tit tit tit tit tit.
“Did you hear that?” Rosemary yelped excitedly. “That was–”
“Quiet,” he ordered as he cupped his ear and tried to decipher where the sound had come from. Directly above him, he thought. But it was hard to tell for certain. “Sir Reginald? Is that you, mate? Be a nice fellow and come on down, now. You’ve worried your mistress, and it’s getting late.”
Tit tit tit. Tit?
“It’s a brave lad you are. Handsome as well, I’m sure. Why don’t you come here and let me see what a fine coat you have?” Vaguely, Sterling registered that he was deploying the same soft, crooning voice he’d used to lure many a vixen into his bed. Here he thought he’d been fine tuning his art of seduction all those years to secure himself the most beautiful and talented mistresses money could buy, when in actuality he’d been preparing to seduce Sir Reginald.
Never, he decided then and there. Never would this story see the light of day, in a pub or otherwise. Forget murder. His reputation wouldn’t ever recover if it became public knowledge that the Duke of Hanover had attempted to flirt with a squirrel.
“Have you got him?” asked Rosemary. “What are youdoing?”
Sterling ground his teeth together. “Would you care to come up here and give it a go? Because you’re more than welcome. I’m doingyouthis favor, in case you’ve forgotten, and it’s not my fault your squirrel is the stupidest, most slow-witted creature that I have ever had the misfortune to–”
And that was when Sir Reginald bit him.
A sharp nip, right on the inside of his left thigh.
In the retelling of this incident (because it would be retold, over and over again), Sterling continued to deny that he screamed. But he did. Like a little girl. Loud and shrill, the high-pitched sound of his feminine screech carried all the way to the manor where the Duchess of Clemson was being serviced by the Earl of Coatesville in her private study.
“Did you hear that?” she frowned.
The earl lifted his head from between her thighs. “Hear what?”
“I’m not sure. Perhaps a maid dropped a tray on her foot?” She patted the top of his head. “Carry on.”
The only thing Sterling carried with him as he fell out of the tree and landed on the ground in an unceremonious heap was regret.Thiswas why he didn’t help people. This was why he preferred to be alone. Because the moment you held out your proverbial hand, a squirrel tried to bite it off.
“Sir Reginald!” Rosemary cried out joyfully when her pet came flying down the trunk of the tree, streaked across the grass in a red blur, and leapt straight onto her shoulder. “You’re all right. Thank heavens.”
Staggering to his feet, Sterling scowled as he brushed leaves off his clothes and yanked a twig out of his hair. “I’mfine, thank you for asking.”
He almost wasn’t. A few inches higher, and Sir Reginald might have–
No.
Best not to even think about it.
“You were very courageous.” Rosemary’s dress rustled as she approached. Rising onto the tips of her toes, she closed her eyes and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “My own knight in shining armor.”
