Page 81 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“Sneaking out to ride across the park before dawn,” she murmured.
“It’s not illegal,” he said, unruffled. “And if no one sees, how can it shock anyone?”
“And fighting at the Vega Club,” she added.
Rob raised one finger. “That was also Tom’s fault.”
“So you said.” They had circled around and now turned to head up the path that led back to the Serpentine. “Why? You promised a rollicking good story.”
“So I did.” He shifted in the saddle and cleared his throat. “Once upon a time there were two brothers, both handsome and proud, not to mention bold, clever fellows.”
“Did either of them lose a horse?” she asked slyly.
Rob frowned at her. “No. Why would you think that? I said these werecleverfellows.”
“Ah, right. Go on.” An enchanting smile lingered on her lips.
“The elder brother—the much handsomer, cleverer one, by the by—had led a sometimes wild life, but had recently sworn a vow to be more circumspect. The younger, though, was hotheaded and unable to control either his temper or his tongue. Together they went out one evening, and were subsequently invited to a notorious club. The elder brother did not much wish to go, but he was persuaded—”
“Against his better judgment? That does not sound very clever to me.”
“He was clevererthan his brother,” Rob explained patiently. “Really, all these interruptions are destroying the drama of my tale.”
She gasped in pretend outrage, but spoiled it by laughing at the same time. “What drama? This story is taking a donkey’s age to tell!”
He stopped his horse. “Come here.” Eyebrows raised in impertinent glee, she rode closer. Rob reached out and grabbed the pommel of her saddle, pulling Artemis closer until he could lean forward and kiss Georgiana. “Will that keep you quiet for a moment?” he whispered, his lips still brushing hers.
“No,” she whispered back, seizing his cravat and pulling him back for a longer kiss. His hand shifted from the pommel to her knee, stroking upward as her mouth opened under his.
By the time he lifted his head, his heart thumped wildly and he didn’t know how he was still astride his horse. She smiled up at him, her mouth pink and tempting, her hair coming loose in golden tendrils around her face, and her green eyes smoldering. That, more than anything, almost made him lose his seat and slide right off Bethel’s back.
He had suspected he was falling in love with her even before he kissed her in Macclesfield. The suspicion had grown stronger when he realized he needed to rush to London to stop her from marrying Sterling. Now he knew beyond all doubt, because the answer he wanted was shining in her eyes.
As his father had predicted, he was mad—but it would work out, because she loved him back.
“What is the end of the story?” she asked, breathless and flushed.
It took him a moment to remember the story. “Ah—right. Well, they went to a club, got a bit foxed, and fell into a fight with some prickly fellows.” He made a face. “A bit stupid of them, really. The important thing to remember is that it was entirely Tom’s fault.”
Georgiana’s peals of laughter made him want to laugh, too. “This is a terrible story! You’re not explaining anything!”
“You really want to know how Tom annoyed Sterling to the point of blows?”
She sobered at the name. “No. No—I didn’t mean to pry, it was only in fun—”
Rob stopped his horse and jumped down. “Come here.” She bit her lip but put her hands on his shoulders and let him lift her off her horse. He wrapped both sets of reins around his fist and cupped her nape to hold her attention. “I’m not trying to conceal it. I only hope you don’t decide I’m a terrible idiot after I tell you.”
She put her hand to his jaw. “I hate that you got hurt again. You don’t seem concerned by it, but youhaveshown a rather astonishing lack of concern before, for injuries that were far worse...”
His eyes closed under her touch. As her fingers wandered over his face, he wanted to growl with satisfaction.
“Did Sterling do this?”
Rob opened his eyes. Her fingertips were like silk against his lip. “A mate of his.”
She winced. “Lord Bristow, I suppose.”
He shrugged. “Tom was being provoking, despite my strong advice to him to be quiet. He truly was begging to be hit. So Sterling obliged, and when I tried to drag my brother out of there, another bloke took a swing at me.” He tested the swelling with his tongue. It was better today, but still annoyed him; if he hadn’t had his arms full of cursing, flailing Tom, he wouldn’t have been caught off guard by Sterling’s red-faced friend.
