Page 41 of Seductive Reprise
Joseph reached for her ungloved hand once more, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Just as before, when he’d accompanied her as she walked home—when he’d held her hand, begging her to begin again—she saw him. Not Joseph Palgrave, son of the Duke of Marbury. But the boy she’d loved.
Since she’d been thrown into his acquaintance once more, she’d seen him as a man who did everything he could to hide his humanity, tamping it down like a bothersome nuisance. But here it was now, risen to the surface, reflecting her pain and loneliness back at her. The ordeal of being of one world and forced to inhabit another. Not belonging anywhere.But maybe,a little voice whispered,belonging to each other.
Rose bit her lip. Usually she quashed such thoughts before they could take hold. But now?
Joseph lifted her hand, placing a soft kiss on it.
“Let me try,” he said, watching her face.
“Try what?” Her brows knit as she withdrew her hand. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the fact that she was sitting atop him, the ceiling of the carriage precariously close to the top of her disheveled head. And wait, had her dresstorn? Suppressing a groan at her carelessness, she slid off him. Scooting to the other side of the bench, she clutched guiltily at her mop of hair, the hairpins that now hung uselessly stabbing at her hands.
He sighed, and removed his hat to smooth his own—still impeccable—coif.
“All I ask of you is a chance… not as polite acquaintances. Something more.”
“Something more?” A surge of energy coursed through her; whether excitement or panic, she could not tell.
“Walk out with me.”
Her stomach did a little flip as she tugged her glove back on. He wanted tocourther?
“Please, Rose. Let me be with you. Let me make it right.” The slightest bit of uncertainty tinged his last sentence. If she hadn’t known him the way she did, she might’ve missed it.
She turned, regarding him as if she’d never seen him before, though this was the second time they’d been drawn together despite everything. Was it something about his eyes, or the way he’d felt underneath her, that continued to pull at her? Rose did not know.
At last she spoke. “And your father?”
His face shuttered. “What about him?”
“I’d just wondered…” She trailed off, realizing that if she wanted to know just what the Duke of Marbury thought of his baseborn son and her, it would only be fair for Joseph to ask the reverse. Just what would her father—well,bothof her fathers—think of him? And of her with him? But she didn’t want to think about the Earl of Ipsley or Louis Verdier. Especially not now, with her hair a mess and her dress torn, her lips still swollen.
Tucking her hair behind one ear, she nodded. “Alright then.” Her voice was low and raspy, but he heard.
For a fire lit in his eyes, and that familiar smirk returned.
“Good,” he drawled.
Chapter Fourteen
Unwilling to completely accedewithout expressing at least a measure of irritation, Rose sighed. “So, what then? Shall I expect you to call on me with a posy next Sunday?”
He looked at her intently, the brown of his eyes luring her in. Almost unnervingly, in a way. He waited several moments, and she found herself fumbling for another sharp response.
Eventually he spoke, dashing any hope she had of maintaining her indignation.
“If that is your wish.”
Heat reignited in her core. “No… no,” she stuttered, making a show of smoothing out her skirts as she gathered her jumbled thoughts. “I usually… I mean, I’m not to have gentle—that is, my landlady wouldn’t look too kindly on your presence.” She looked at him sideways. “But Sunday… would be nice. Perhaps? Shall we say Sunday?”
One side of his luscious mouth curled up in a half-grin. Without thinking she placed a hand to her chest, wanting to rub away the ache it caused.
“And please don’t send a carriage!” she blurted out, before he thought to imperiously dictate her movements about London. “I shall make my own way.”
He looked for a moment as if he might want to challenge her, but it passed. Instead he reached for her hand again. “Alright.”
The weight of his hand on hers reminded her of just how delicious it had felt, being close to him, crushed against his chest, tasting his mouth, feeling his growing… affection. She wanted to moan and turn into him once more, seeking his kisses and pets. But she pulled away.
