Page 36 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
Suzannah hadn’t considered it from such an innocent angle. Her thoughts had taken a far darker turn.
“I... er... was thinking more about the fact that I am the daughter of the man who once gave witness against you. In the eyes of society, we are enemies... aren’t we?” She hadn’t wanted to bring that up, but she didn’t want him to lay the blame at her feet later for not having been warned.
Kit studied her, his dark eyes unreadable. “Is that theonlyreason you’re protesting?”
“I’mnotprotesting,” she argued.
“Good.” With that, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up, easily tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her toward the horses.
She gasped, blood rushing to her head as she fought to free herself. She hung like a sack of grain over his shoulder, her bottom high up in the air. Anyone passing by would see her being manhandled and think he was kidnapping her. “What are you doing? Think of the scandal!”
“Iam,” Kit chuckled. “Rather than fight it, I think I might as wellenjoymyself.”
She snapped and balled a fist and pummeled his backside. “You’re enjoying this?”
“Immensely.” His sensual laugh made the deepest, most feminine part of her shiver with excitement—until he smacked her bottom with one hand.
He lifted her high on his shoulder, and then suddenly she was turned right side up as he placed her firmly on the sidesaddle of the dappled mare.
“Oh!” She scrambled to catch the reins and steady herself on top of the horse. The moment Kit felt certain she could sit upright without falling, he returned to his fierce black stallion and mounted him.
“But my art—”
“As I said, Vincent will watch over your paintings.”
She glanced at the other man, who smiled with teasing gentleness.
“Your masterpieces will be safe with me, Miss Townsend,” Vincent assured her.
“You do know how to ride, don’t you?” Kit asked, pulling Suzannah’s focus away from her paintings.
“What? Oh yes. Not spectacularly well, but yes. I grew up riding as a child, but I don’t have much practice with a sidesaddle, I’m afraid.”
She squirmed a little, trying to get comfortable in the saddle and with the thought of riding in Hyde Park with someone who, until recently, had entertained vengeful thoughts against her. Had that kiss between them last night changed something in him so profoundly? It seemed unlikely... yet she saw less rage in him today than she had before.
“It seems you and I have something to discuss,” he said, and after a moment of silence, he continued. “I have a matter to propose to you. An idea that only recently occurred to me. It’s quite a mad idea, but I cannot seem to banish it from my head now.”
She was almost too afraid to know what he was thinking. “What matter?”
“The matter ofmarriage,” Kit said.
“Marriage? You’re getting married? To whom?”
Suzannah’s chest prickled as though invisible little claws were digging into her. It was silly to feel jealous and upset, but some part of her cared all too much. Had the kiss they’d shared meant so little to him that he was thinking of another woman? Perhaps she was the only one who had truly been changed by that kiss...
“I...” She swallowed down the sharp pang of disappointment. “I wish you my congratulations, Lord Kentwell... to you and the lady you’re to marry, whoever she is.” She didn’t dare call him Kit any longer—it was too intimate for a man who was to marry another woman. “Who... who is the woman?” she asked.
Kit flashed her that darkly dazzling smile that made her forget to breathe.
“Well, I was rather hoping that the lady would beyou.”
10
“Iwas rather hoping that the lady would be you.”
Kit’s words still echoed in Suzannah’s mind later that evening as she finished sketching the newest set designs for the next play scheduled to be performed at Drury Lane. She stared into the distance, replaying the ride in the park with Kit over and over. It had been so different to see him bathed in sunlight and smiling at her when she’d only ever known him brooding in candlelight and wreathed in shadows. She had enjoyed that sunny ride, despite the shock of Kit’s marriage proposal. He had raised a thousand questions with that single proposition.
Did she want to marry? Did she want to marryhim? What would marrying him even mean? She didn’t think he hated her any longer, but she wasn’t certain he liked her either, let alone love her. She had no standing in society, no money, so what did he expect to gain through such a union?
