Page 84 of A Duke in the Rough

“Honoria,” he whispered. “I want to kiss you.”

No. She should say no. She swallowed. Her heart pounded against her sternum in a furious tattoo. “Yes.”

As he lowered his head, the citrusy scent of his breath made her head spin. Light at first, as if he were testing, the kiss skimmed the surface of her mouth. His lips were soft, softer than she remembered, and sweet from the orange. Or was that him? She couldn’t think.

When he increased the pressure, she sagged against him, her body pliable and boneless. Different from the tender kisses of their youth;this kiss seduced with subtlety. She wrapped her arm around his neck and played with the soft hair brushing the collar of his coat.

Something plopped onto the ground by their feet, and he slipped a supporting arm around her waist to keep her upright.

Time whispered away as if they’d never been apart.

“Ahem.”

Drake’s lips were still pressed to hers. Who had spoken?

“My, this is a lovely orangery,” Miranda’s voice broke through Honoria’s haze, and Drake bolted away from her as if she had burned him.

When Honoria turned, Miranda was staring at a tree, her body in profile to them. Honoria turned back to Drake, who had moved at least twelve feet away, his face crimson.

She lifted her hands to her own burning face, and he had the audacity to grin at her. “Miranda, what took you so long?”

“Perhaps too long? Or not long enough, depending on who you are. Should I announce I have witnessed a compromise?”

Both Honoria and Drake shouted, “No!”

Although Honoria didn’t want to trap Drake into an unwanted marriage, her heart plummeted to her toes at his categoric opposition.

Perhaps she had misunderstood. Pain—or was it apology—shone in his eyes as he jerked his gaze toward her.

Honoria struggled to salvage the situation. “I was enquiring about Charlotte’s and Anne’s whereabouts from Mr. Merrick. They are not here.”

Miranda’s lips quirked. “Obviously.”

“Perhaps they’re in the house?” Drake’s suggestion sounded exceptionally confident.

“Yes. The house.” Honoria’s face heated at her muttered nonsense.

Miranda motioned toward the door. “Shall we withdraw to find them, then?”

Honoria nodded and stepped forward.

“Lady Honoria,” Drake said.

Honoria halted her steps and drew in a breath.

“Might I have a word before you leave?”

“I shall wait here.” Miranda turned her back to them and hummed lightly to herself.

Honoria forced herself to face Drake.

He stepped closer, but kept a respectable distance and his voice low. “I’m not sorry, if that’s what you think.”

“For what?”

The lopsided grin spread across his dear face. “The kiss.” Just as quickly, the grin vanished. “But I don’t want you to be forced into something against your will.”

“And there is Anne to consider.”

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