“I did not realise you observed so closely.”
“Oh, I observe everything.” She spun lightly away from him—damn it. “And I shall never marry simply to satisfy Society’s whims. I would rather be a spinster of magnificent reputation, who drinks brandy in the drawing room and makes wagers, and terrifies polite company well into her seventies.”
He smiled broadly and folded his arms. “Well, in my experience, the most liberated women in London are widows. Particularly the sort who possessed the good sense to marry elderly peers with weak constitutions and excellent fortunes. They live like queens thereafter. No curfews, no chaperones. No consequences at all.”
Miss Tolliver wrinkled her nose. “Ah yes, I have heard the theory. Which young lady hasn’t? Marry a decrepit marquess, let nature take its course, and spend the rest of one’s life in silks and sapphires.”
“The notion has its merits.” He gave a lop-sided smile.
“No doubt. Though the marital bed with a gentleman who removes his teeth beforehand seems a steep price for liberty.”
Jasper barked a laugh.
“And worse,” she continued breezily, “one would be obliged to feign interest in his opinions on trade policy or his digestion, all whilst being relentlessly pawed by hands that creak louder thanthe floorboards. No, thank you, sir. I should prefer to earn my freedom the lively way.”
“You are a menace, Miss Tolliver.”
She smiled at that. “And you are very charming, Mr Deverell,” she said, stepping another pace away, “but I am not so easily caught.”
He followed her a pace, unfolding his arms. “And I am not so foolish as to try.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, they were caught in a silent game of cat-and-mouse—before he reached out and caught her lightly by the wrist.
She did not protest, but lifted her brows, as though curious to see what he meant to do with such an advantage. “Aren’t you?”
He was, without a doubt, very foolish indeed. Without fanfare, he drew her flush against him and kissed her.
He had expected restraint, but Miss Tolliver answered him with enough spirit to steal the breath straight from his lungs. Her lips were soft and tasted faintly of summer fruit, and her tongue was bold—curious and teasing. She matched him stroke for stroke, their kiss deepening with warmth until the sunlight and gravel path and distant garden party seemed very far away indeed. Miss Tolliver was a lady, but God help him, she kissed him like a woman.
As quickly as their kiss began, it ended. Miss Tolliver slipped from his grasp, stepping back as though nothing untoward had occurred at all.
“That,” she said lightly, adjusting her gloves, “was a moment. Nothing more.”
“No?” he murmured, dipping his voice to a lower register.
She regarded him through lowered lashes, her smile sweet as honey. “My dear Mr Deverell. You must not imagine every kiss constitutes a promise. Some are merely entertainment.”
“AndwasI entertaining?”
“Moderately.”
He laughed, though his chest tightened imperceptibly.
She smiled at him, her real smile that pulled dimples at her cheeks. “Good afternoon, sir.”
Chapter 6
The sun rose high and unapologetic over Danebrook Park, gilding the green lawns and fluttering canvas pavilions of the racecourse. Grooms led sleek horses towards the paddock and bookmakers shouted their odds above the crowd.
It was the first truly fashionable meet of the Season, and Society had arrived accordingly: lords and ladies in smart carriages, cavalry officers pretending to inspect bloodlines, bored second sons eager to wager money they did not possess, and a great many gentlemen who had already mistaken brandy for breakfast. Beyond the stands, hooves struck turf in a rhythm that made Lottie Tolliver sit a little straighter.
“This is the most glorious day I have had since the Tolliver Christmas two years past,” she declared. “And that involved four puddings and Cousin Mortimer setting fire to a tablecloth.”
Theo, Earl of Langley, gave a long-suffering sigh. “I fail to see how that qualifies as glorious.”
“Oh, you are so dreadfully dull these days, Lord Langley,” she replied, peering through her parasol at the gathering crowd. “You do not properly appreciate chaos as you once did.”
“I appreciate surviving it,” he muttered, tugging his leather gloves tighter.
