Page 24 of Her Duke at Midnight
Adam felt that gentle stroke all the way to his groin.
“Ironic, is it not?” he teased. “For a man who vowed never to participate in hunts.”
“A little,” she admitted with a smile. “But Orion is a beautiful constellation with bright stars. I often use it to orient myself when I’m stargazing without my telescope.”
This was the first time he’d seen her smile, and it was a bit dizzying. The genuine delight in her expression lit up the gold in her eyes.
He’d have to give her reason to smile more often.
“Precisely,” he agreed. “Once you’ve found Orion, you know where you are on the map of the night sky.”
“Do you have others?” Her gaze locked on his tattoo and then flickered up.
“I do.”
“I want to see them.”
He chuckled at that, enjoying her confidence and determination.
Adam leaned closer. “Then you shall.”
The smile she gave him this time was different, more knowing, and paired with a seductive glint in her eyes.
He wanted to kiss her. He needed to kiss her.
“Cecily?”
A tall blonde woman in a riding habit rounded the corner and waved when she spotted Cecily. Adam pulled his shirt up, quickly fastening the top buttons.
“Thank goodness! I was so worried when you weren’t in your room.” The lady—Fiona Prescott, Adam presumed—was so focused on Cecily that it took her a moment to notice him.
When she did, her whole body stiffened with wariness. She offered him a cool “Everton” as her dark eyes scrutinized him and then swung back to Cecily with a worried squint. “Shall we prepare for breakfast, my dear?”
“Yes, of course.” Cecily nodded at her friend, her voice bright. “Good day, Everton. I trust we’ll see you at the ball this evening, if not at some event before.”
“I look forward to it, Lady Bissenden.” And he did. Not to the ball or any planned event the Derwents had contrived for their guests.
He simply looked forward to the next time he could be with Cecily, wherever that might be.
CHAPTER7
“You’re not telling me everything.”Fiona stood behind Cecily, winding her gathered hair into a sinuous shape to be pinned at her nape.
In her hand, Cecily held a garnet haircomb her mother had left to her. The gems would match the dark crimson of her ball gown—the first red gown she’d ever owned.
“No, not everything.” Cecily smiled at her friend’s reflection in the mirror in front of them. “I hope that’s all right.”
“Of course, it is. I respect your desire to keep some matters private. We all have that right.”
“Thank you.” Cecily handed up the bejeweled comb. “And you did all but encourage me to take a lover.”
Fiona’s cinnamon-brown eyes widened, and her fingers stilled, the comb clenched in her hand.
“So it has gone that far between you?”
Cecily wanted it to. She wasn’t sure when that decision had come to feel so right, but it did. And their discussion today, the mention of a next time, gave her hope that Adam’s thoughts matched her own.
“I am entirely in favor of widows taking lovers.” Fiona’s tone lightened as she situated the comb in Cecily’s hair. “But I also warned you about one man in particular.”
