Page 39 of Duke of Emeralds
“The dress is lovely,” Hester breathed, that captivating flush blooming upwards from her neck, painting her cheeks a delicate rose.
“Ye are lovely,” he corrected, his voice dropping lower, rougher. He turned her palms upwards, pressing a lighter, deliberate kiss into the center of each. The blush deepened satisfyingly beneath his touch; the flutter of her pulse against his fingertips was a language he understood well. “The dress doesn’t wear ye, Hester. Ye give it life.”
A small, breathless laugh escaped her. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Thomas.”
His gaze locked with hers with a spark of challenge—and something warmer, more intimate—igniting. A faint, knowing curve touched his lips. “Everywhere with ye?” he returned.
“Everywherewithinreason,” she replied, correcting him at once. Her arms crossed as she narrowed her gaze, her expressionbetraying the sharp suspicion that had begun to stir. He saw it, and yet, he found himself smiling.
He leaned slightly, as though confiding a great disappointment. “Now that’s a sorry boundary to impose on a man,” he said. “Ye’ve gone and ruined all my grand plans.”
A sound broke from her; a half laugh, half scoff as she shook her head. “You will try anything.”
“I do not flatter,” he said. His eyes were on hers, steady now. “Not without cause.”
Her amusement faded for a beat, replaced by something unreadable. She said nothing. He meant every word, and more still, but he knew better than to press that truth just yet.
She recovered quickly. “Keep that up, and it just might get you somewhere.”
He let out a short breath, the beginnings of a grin already forming. “Everywhere?”
Her lips parted in mock outrage. “Somewhere,” she corrected, a hand rising to point at him. “Do not push your luck, Duke.”
He laughed—deep and warm—as he reached into his coat, drawing the slim velvet box that had weighed down his pocket since breakfast.
“I’ve something for ye,” he said, holding it out. “A finishing touch.”
Her gaze fell to the box with immediate suspicion, her brows drawing together. But curiosity quickly overran it, and her fingers reached, tentative but steady.
She cracked it open.
The little gasp that left her lips gripped something deep in his chest.
Emerald and diamond—no ornament in the shop windows could match it for the way it gleamed against her surprise. She blinked then looked up at him as though unsure what to do next.
“May I?” he asked, already lifting the necklace from its cushioned bed.
She gave the smallest of nods and then turned, her back now to him, her shoulders bare where her dress dipped modestly low. She stood before the mirror, her eyes on his reflection. Thomas stepped behind her and bent slightly, lifting the chain and guiding it about her neck.
The clasp was finicky, but his fingers were steady. He fastened it with care though he allowed them to linger—just briefly—against the warm skin at the nape of her neck. She didn’t flinch. Nor did she move. He saw her swallow in the mirror.
When she finally spoke, her voice was softer than before. “It is beautiful.”
He did not answer. He only watched her hand lift to the emerald drop now resting against her collarbone, her fingers brushing lightly over the stones as if to confirm it was real.
His own hand had yet to fall.
Before he could think better of it, his head dipped low, and he pressed a kiss to the very place his fingers had just touched.
Her breath caught. Just a little. A quiet intake that sent a heat through him so swift, so fierce, he had to draw back at once.
He straightened, fixed his cuffs, and cleared his throat.
“The carriage awaits,” he said, offering his arm. “Shall we?”
The ballroom of Alderton House glittered when they arrived. Thomas had barely crossed the threshold before a voice as cheery as spring bells rang out to greet them.
“Oh, I have been looking forward to this ballsolelyto meet society’s newest couple,” declared the Marchioness of Alderton, making her way toward them with enough enthusiasm to light the entire chandelier above them. “You two make asplendidpair.”
