Page 60 of A Match Made On Duchess Square

That she had not outright refused him was a major step forward and gave him hope.

The eager way she had responded to his kisses, or that she had allowed those kisses at all, was also telling. She desired him, although she did not understand the full impact of her feelings because she was so inexperienced. But what mattered was that she wanted him, even if she did not understand exactly what it was she wanted him for.

It was enough for now that she wanted to be held in his arms. Kissed by his lips.

Unfortunately, what she was not able to do yet was cut those stubborn threads entangling her heart because her betrothed still maintained a stranglehold on her.

“Let’s keep to tomorrow’s plan,” she said.

“All right. If this is your wish.” He escorted her into the house and upstairs to her bedchamber, making no attempt to kiss her again, not even a harmless peck on the cheek to bid her goodnight at her door.

He was already inflamed and aching to take her into his bed.

Did Gwendolyn have any idea the power she held over him?

James was a cynical widower, a father, an experienced and worldly man above the age of forty, and a former rakehell who knew how to seduce women and make them quiver at his touch. She did not know the first thing about the bedroom, and yet he melted every time he looked at her.

She had the most beautiful eyes, and they were staring at him with a vulnerable longing that shot straight to his heart.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. “Fuller knows to have my carriage ready for us by nine o’clock. It’ll take about an hour to reach Brighton. We should be able to complete all our errands by midday and have the chance to amble through Brighton’s seaside attractions before we ride home.”

“James…”

He had started to turn away but now turned back, surprised to be greeted by her soft, loving eyes. “Yes?”

“I liked kissing you.”

He cast her a wry smile. “I know.” He leaned forward and gave her a feather-soft kiss on the lips. “Sweet dreams, Gwen. Dream of me.”

Instead of that bounder betrothed of yours.

Chapter Twelve

Gwendolyn had been too excited to fall asleep immediately, for Milbury’s marriage proposal had taken her by surprise for several reasons. First, that he had chosen her had caught her completely unprepared. His cautious nature and the fact he was not going to settle for anything short of love had left her thinking her matchmaking endeavors were going to implode in catastrophic failure.

And all the while, he was falling in love with her.

Receiving his proposal had lightened her heart and elated her beyond anything imaginable.

Which led to the second reason for her surprise.

That she was receptive to the possibility of marrying him had also caught her completely off guard. She had spent a decade rebuffing all suitors and keeping faithful to Andrew without a moment’s regret until James Milbury had come to her seeking assistance in his search for a suitable bride. Never in her wildest dreams had she considered herself a potential choice when he first approached her.

But these past few months had been more pleasant than any she remembered having in all her years.

She realized that she might want to accept him.

But was she ready to shed her past?

Despite her fitful sleep, she rose early and took extra care in preparing herself for their excursion to Brighton. She wanted to look her best, although she was not certain why it mattered so much to her. Perhaps because she now knew that he loved her.

It was also possible that she loved him.

But that possibility still scared her and left her in torment.

“Good morning, Gwen. Did you sleep well?” Milbury asked, stepping outside to find her and Agatha waiting beside his carriage and enjoying the warmth on another perfect summer’s day.

She blushed. “It took me a little while to fall asleep. But once I did, yes. I had a very good sleep.”