Page 77 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“Where is your brother?” The major hadn’t followed them.
“Doing penance,” said Rob as they reached the path. It would take a quarter hour, at a sluggish stroll, to circumnavigate the whole thing.
Georgiana blinked. “For what?”
“A multitude of sins. He started the fight that caused this.” He motioned at his face.
She gasped. “No! Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Georgiana stopped in alarm. “You don’t remember? Is your memory still suffering?”
“No,” he said with a flick of one hand. “I meant that God alone knows why Tom was in a fighting mood.” His voice fell to a low growl. “I remember last night very well.”
She blushed at the heat in his gaze. She had relived the way they fell on each other, and everything that kiss suggested, all night long. “Do you, my lord?”
Eyes fixed on her, he nodded. “I remember that you’re no longer engaged to Lord Sterling. I didn’t dream that, did I?”
She had to clear her throat. “No,” she whispered.
His mouth crooked wickedly as his gaze dropped to her mouth. “Good.”
They started walking again. Now Georgiana was intensely aware of his arm under her hand, of his shoulder next to hers, of the warmth and strength and smell of him and how much she had missed him. Her fingers twitched on his arm. She didn’t know what she would have done if he hadn’t returned. Quite likely something mad and scandalous, because she hadn’t been able to forget him, or convince herself he was nothing to her.
“Do you have any regrets?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
She opened her mouth, then paused. “About breaking off with Sterling? Or about kissing you last night?”
“Either.”
“No,” she said at once. “It was the only thing I could do.”
“Oh?” he murmured with a sly glance.
Georgiana blushed. “I meant Sterling. Every time I thought of being his wife, I felt more and more certain it would be a terrible mistake. It was better to end it before we found ourselves trapped.”
“It is far better to avoid mistakes like that,” he agreed. “And kissing me...?”
“You kissed me,” she pointed out.
A faint smile hovered about his lips. “I did. I’ve thought of almost nothing but kissing you since we parted.” Pleasure spilled through her, so intense she shivered. “Curse me for a sinner, but I came back to London to see if you might have felt the same.”
“Oh.” She was so distracted by the memory of his mouth on hers she could hardly speak. “I’m sure that’s not a sin.”
“Don’t be so certain,” he said with a low, wicked laugh. “I’ve never been known for my saintliness.” He stopped and turned to her, placing his free hand over hers where it gripped his sleeve. “But this time I’ll try. I want to call on you. May I?”
Yes, she wanted to cry. She licked her lips. “Why, my lord?”
Now his expression turned rueful. “I didn’t represent myself well before—or perhaps I did, but that was my old self. I do think that blow to the head changed something in me, or perhaps just knocked some sense into place.” He lifted one shoulder. “But either way, I would like a chance to become acquainted with each other, and see if you like me more than the old Westmorland.”
“Oh.” That sounded rather tame, after what her unruly imagination had been anticipating. “Well—yes, I suppose that would be fine. We don’t really know each other, after all...”
He stopped her babbling with a fingertip to her lips. “I know a great deal about you,” he said softly. “Deeply loyal to your friends, and conscious of not wanting to hurt them. Considerate, even to the memory of a dead woman you never knew. Kind and compassionate enough to risk your friendship with Lady Winston to help a stranger you disliked. Determined in the face of obstacles. Inventive and fiendishly clever. Fond of racing and splashing in a pond but still the most beautiful woman in any room. You read adventure stories, with different voices.” He paused as she gaped at him. “And you kissed me like you wanted to run off with me.”
I do, whispered a voice in her head. “Then I suppose you’d better come to call,” she said, trying to remain poised. “Since we can’t run off with each other.”
“Not yet,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming.
