He was breathing like a freight train.
“Cordelia—” he began, but he had no time to get the words out.
Standing on her tiptoes and snaking her hand around the back of his neck, Cordelia brought her mouth to meet his. She felt him, stiff and surprised at first, melt into the embrace. Gripping the small of her back, he crushed her against his chest. Cordelia moaned, the air leaving her lungs. The position was exerting an exquisite pressure on her breasts, which had grown peaked.
“Your Grace?”
Cordelia practically leapt off the man, slapping a hand over her wet mouth. Looking up at the top of the bank, she saw Henry Peverill standing there, great coat flapping in the wind. The first drops of rain started to fall from the sky.
“Give me a minute, Peverill,” Justin spat at his friend.
“Is that such a wise idea?” the man replied, but with none of his usual candor. “Unfortunately, there is something urgent that requires your attention.”
“One. Minute.” Justin was speaking through clenched teeth. His shirt was rumpled. Every muscle in his neck was tensed.
“Fine,” Peverill replied, disappearing behind the ridge.
Cordelia and Justin regarded one another for a moment. Where an intense heat had once burned, Cordelia was now chilled. With no shawl she crossed her arms across her chest, shivering.
“Will he tell anyone?” Cordelia asked.
Justin removed his coat, bringing it around her shoulders as the rain started down heavier. “No, he won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I’m sorry—”
“I didn’t mean—”
They both sighed. Cordelia’s knuckles went white as she clutched the coat around her. It dragged on the ground. “That was…” She tried again, “I am sorry. I was caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again, Your Grace.”
His blue gaze was searching hers, but the rain was really coming down now, obscuring his taut, handsome features. “Indeed,” he replied, finally. “Get yourself home, Cordelia.”
Fisting her hands in her wet skirts, she climbed the hill.
Chapter Sixteen
“My God, Iactually thought I was hallucinating,” Peverill said, as they entered the foyer. “Who expected she was such a little minx beneath all those manners?”
“Keep your voice down,” Justin said, shortly. He was in no mood for Peverill’s merry attitude.
“I knew you took a fancy to her,” he replied.
“Stop talking.”
“I think she likes you too, you know, judging by how she was practically devouring you,” Peverill said, adding a low whistle.
“I told you,” Justin said, gripping the lapels of his friend’s coat, “to shut it.”
Peverill held his hands up. “All right. I see. She’s important to you then?”
“What was the news you called me back for?” Justin asked, doing his best to change the subject. He was not yet ready to answer that question for himself, and he doubted Cordelia was as well. In fact, his mind was so muddled with emotions that completely contradicted one another he could hardly see straight. He was angry at her low opinion of him. Completely besotted with her. Burning with lust. Wanting to smash a window at the thought of her stubbornness.
“There was no news. I just thought I’d better call the two of you off one another before I had to act as best man at your upcoming wedding. Don’t think if this gets out that society won’tmarch you both down the aisle. They think of women differently in this world,” Peverill said, clapping him on the shoulder. “And that little encounter would have done well enough.”
Justin’s stomach flip-flopped.Marriage. To Cordelia. Why did that fill him with equal parts foreboding and anticipation? He’d always assumed that eventually he would get married and have children of his own. But he had never seriously considered it, not perhaps until this moment.
“Right,” Justin said, pausing for a moment to wipe his brow. He needed a hot bath and a glass of brandy. “I think I should put a stop to our meetings for the time being. Our friendship has become a little too incendiary for comfort.”
Peverill laughed. “I would certainly say that! Good luck,zanmi.”
