Page 17 of Her Duke to Seduce
He shrugged. “I lived on an estate nearby—or rather, I did as a boy. My father is the Duke of Templeton.”
This time, she sat up straighter and stared at him. “You lived near my aunt’s estate?”
He nodded and narrowed his gaze. “You have been there before.” He frowned. “Have we met, then? Before that night at the ball?”
Her mouth fell open, and then she laughed. It was a boisterous, almost hysterical laugh. She wiped at her eyes and said, “Aye, my lord, I believe we may have.”
Aiden frowned. “Tell me,” he demanded.
“If we were not trapped in a carriage, Lord Redding,” she said, amusement lacing her tone, “I would bow. I know I should curtsy, being a lady, but my attire would make a bow more appropriate.” Her lips tilted upward in a mischievous smile. “I am Lissy.”
This time, his mouth fell open. It made sense then. How she had known his title. That had surprised him a little at first, but he had assumed that once he gave her his father’s title, she would have made the connection. Though he had introduced himself as the Marquess of Redding that day by the pond. “I had assumed you belonged to a servant,” he admitted.
Felicity shrugged. “It was a good assumption. I am sure I appeared to be a messy urchin to you. I was quite an unruly child.”
“I would say you are still unruly,” he said, then grinned. “Though you have outgrown your scrawny build.” His gaze raked over her. She had curves in abundance. “Lissy, darling,” he drawled, “you are a vision. Even in men’s attire.”
“As interesting as this revelation has been,” she began. Felicity sighed and leaned back against the seat. "I should rest while I can. I imagine you will try to convince me to turn back before long."
Aiden smirked. "I would not waste my breath." At least not yet...
He watched her for a long moment as her breathing slowed, her lashes dark against her fair skin. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. And for the first time in his life, he wondered if perhaps he was the one in danger—not of losing a battle of wills, but of losing himself entirely.
Eight
They had traveled for several hours, and at last, they arrived at an inn. Felicity stretched in her seat, relieved that they would finally be stopping. The first thing she would demand was a bath. She had dust from the road clinging to her, making her feel gritty and altogether unkempt. If she hoped to seduce Aiden, it would not do for her to remind him of the little urchin she had once been.
And hadn’t that been a surprise?
When she had first encountered him at the ball, she had not made the connection to their long-ago meeting. At ten years old, she had been quite unimpressed by the haughty young marquess she had met by the pond at Winston Manor. Never would she have believed that he would grow into a man who tempted her beyond reason.
Aiden stepped down from the carriage first, turning to offer his hand to assist her. She hesitated for the briefest of moments before placing her hand in his, allowing him to help her alight. The warmth of his touch sent an unwelcome shiver through her, but she masked her reaction behind a polite smile.
The inn was a modest establishment, its stone façade weathered by the years and the salty air that blew inlandfrom the coast. A lantern swung from an iron hook above the entrance, casting flickering shadows over the cobbled courtyard. Despite its simplicity, the place appeared well-kept—a welcome respite after hours spent on the road.
Aiden led her inside, where the scent of roasting meat and fresh-baked bread filled the air. A handful of travelers lingered in the common room, their voices low as they supped on stew and ale. A fire burned in the large hearth, crackling merrily against the evening’s chill.
Felicity inhaled deeply, relishing the warmth that enveloped her. She was exhausted, travel-worn, and in desperate need of that bath. But she was also acutely aware of the man beside her, of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it ought.
The innkeeper, a stout man with a balding pate and a red beard, bustled forward and inclined his head. “Welcome tae the Black Bull. How may I be of service?” His thick Scottish brogue threw her off, and she snapped her gaze toward Aiden. She had a lot of questions for him and she would get answers.
Aiden ignored her scrutiny as he addressed the innkeeper. “We require two rooms for the night.”
Felicity exhaled a breath she had not realized she was holding. Despite her reckless plan, despite the temptation simmering between them, it pleased her that Aiden still had the presence of mind to maintain some semblance of propriety. Though she intended to seduce him, she wanted that bath in peace first.
The innkeeper frowned. “Two rooms, ye say?” His gaze flickered between them, lingering on Felicity’s attire. Though she wore men’s breeches and a coat, the delicate features of her face and the curve of her lips could not be mistaken for anything other than feminine. His bushy brows furrowed in suspicion, but he said nothing.
Aiden met his gaze with a pointed look. “Yes, two rooms,” he said with emphasis. “I should hope that will not be an issue.”
The innkeeper cleared his throat. “Ah, no, of course not, my lord. It is simply that our rooms are rather limited this evening. I have but one chamber remaining on the second floor.”
Felicity bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Fate, it seemed, was on her side. Perhaps she would not need to work quite so hard to see her plan through. It would not do for Aiden to see how pleased she was by this revelation. She had liked the idea of privacy, but this was even better.
Aiden, however, did not appear amused. His jaw clenched as he turned toward her. “We shall take the second-floor chamber,” he said stiffly.
The innkeeper shuffled forward, key in hand. “Is there anything else?”
“Hot water for a bath,” Aiden demanded.
