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He prowled closer, raising a brow, and giving her a puzzled look. ‘Would you like to be wooed?’

He got close, close enough that she could hold out a hand, place a single fingertip on his chest to halt his progress, and arch an eyebrow of her own.

‘Are you going to propose?’

The finger remained on his chest. Her touch burning through to his skin. It made his breath hitch. ‘Would you say yes?’ My god, he wanted to kiss her. Wanted to lean down and take that glorious mouth in a kiss that would at first be gentle, soft, and then would simply run wild. He knew it would. He swallowed and waited.

Harriet put her head to one side and pretended to consider. ‘Well, it depends on several things, but foremost in my mind would be…’ She paused, squeezed his hand, and leaned closer. So close he caught the scent of her perfume. Her skin. His mouth nigh on watered.

‘What?’ he whispered.

‘Are you still bedding my aunt?’

Chapter 15

HARYO

London

He felt shock ripple through him, making his heart thump and his skin prickle. Unfortunately, his sense of humour got the better of him and he laughed aloud. Her reply was pure Haryo. It was, of course, entirely the wrong thing to do, as she snatched her hand from his and pokered up immediately.

‘Oh, Lady Harriet, Haryo, no, I beg of you, please stay and let me answer that. I apologise for laughing but you… you took me quite by surprise and I’m… Well, let’s say I’m rarely at a loss as to how to respond to a lady, but you do seem to have this effect on me.’

He straightened his face and cleared his throat. ‘I’m presuming that your aunt Bessborough has told you of her latest scheme in the same way that she shared with me. The one where she thinks that you and I would be a perfect match.’

Her spine was still rigid, and her chin furiously in the air, but she relented enough to answer. ‘The very one,’ she responded. Eyes flashing. He took a moment to take in her expression, and if he wasn’t mistaken, a healthy dose of mortification underpinned the whole affair. Lady Harriet was not a woman confident in her own attractiveness. This must be killing her. Honestly, he could have murdered Bess.

He took a breath to steady himself and attempted to repair the damage.

‘My dearest Lady Harriet. Or, as we used to be on terms, Haryo. As you rightly suspect, your aunt spoke to me about this, as she has taken the notion to her head we would suit. I take it from your affronted air that she has spoken with you too?’

‘Indeed, she has. I’m interested now to know whether you will follow her instruction.’

Granville nodded. ‘She offered no instruction to propose, just that I give her suggestion of a match some consideration. Before we get to that, you just asked me something else. Something important, and something I and your aunt were not aware you were cognisant of.’

She at least had the grace to blush. She stiffened and waited. The only thing he could do was to be honest. Or as honest as he could be. There was no way on God’s green earth Haryo would ever consent to marry him, so he might as well.

He prowled the room, looking for the words he needed. ‘You are right in your assumption that Bess and I were lovers. However, might I ask you to note the use of the term, were? This is the important part.’

‘You imagine this makes a difference?’

‘How long have you known?’ It actually made a great deal of sense. He knew something had happened, but he thought he and Bess had been circumspect, particularly around the children. He ventured a small smile. ‘We always got along famously, but everything changed around the time I took up the post of Colonel of the Staffordshire Militia.’

Harriet nodded. ‘I saw you kissing her. Passionately.’

Granville’s heart pinched in his chest. That would have been at least ten years ago, when Harriet was an impressionable girl.

‘I see. That.’

‘How long have you been lovers?’

He looked at Harriet, sighed and ploughed on.

‘Since I was nineteen years old. We met in Naples nearly twenty years ago when she was with your mother and Lady Elizabeth Foster. They were spending some time travelling around France and Italy.’

‘But she’s so much older than you.’ Haryo looked genuinely puzzled.

‘Do you think twice about men who marry women much younger than themselves?’