Page 38 of When the Marquess Was Mine
“I think so, yes,” she whispered.
His hand covered hers, holding her fingers gently across his cheek. “Then it was all worth it.” He closed his eyes and turned his head, pressing a kiss into her palm.
“You,” she told him, “are a madman.”
“Mmm.” He smiled, still nuzzling her palm. “Quite likely.” He opened one eye. “Do you like me that way?”
Her smile softened, growing wistful. “Yes,” she murmured.Very much.
“That’s good enough for me.” Before she could react, he bent his head and brushed a kiss—lighter than a feather—on her mouth, then immediately released her. “Where did Angus put the hamper?”
Slowly Georgiana sat up, her heart throbbing and her lips tingling. She watched, dazed, as Rob retrieved the hamper and rummaged inside it. As if he had no idea he’d just upended her world.
She should not have let him kiss her. She shouldn’t have let herself slide into such informality with him at all. But part of her—a wicked part that seemed to grow larger and stronger every day—liked it. That part of her didn’t want to put an end to it, even though she knew she must.
Just... not today.
They devoured the hamper contents and went wading again. He took off his waistcoat and went into the pond in his shirtsleeves with his trousers rolled to his knees. Even though she’d helped strip and wash him when he was unconscious, it was wreaking havoc on her good sense to see his bare limbs.
When she discovered a swarm of tadpoles near the reeds, she called him over in delight. He seemed just as charmed by the wriggling creatures as she was, and Georgiana thought yet again how odd it was to be standing barefoot in a pond with the Malicious Marquess, in his shirtsleeves with his hair ruffled into a glowing nimbus around his head. And as if to permanently banish her image of him as a languid, spiteful rake, Rob snapped off a reed nearby and tried to make it whistle, to no avail.
“That’s terrible!” She made a face at him.
“I suppose this is another thing I’ve forgotten, but you can do,” he shot back.
“You knew how to skip stones,” she replied. “You’re merely out of practice.” Because he’d been prowling London ballrooms, slicing young ladies to shreds with one cutting word. Just as he would no doubt do again soon. Georgiana broke off her own reed to avoid thinking about that. She put it to her lips and blew, shocked when it produced a thin but clear whistle.
Rob stopped flattening his reed and gazed at her in astonishment.
“I didn’t know that would happen!” she cried, laughing even as she backed away. “It was an accident!”
“It’s completely unfair,” he charged, sloshing after her. “You skip stones better than I, you whistle better than I—accidentally, even—and you drive the cart with more verve than any man—come here!”
“No!” Gasping now with laughter, she turned and tried to run, catching up her skirts higher. The pond was deeper than she’d thought, though, and her toes caught on an unseen underwater root. She would have pitched headfirst into the water if his arm hadn’t gone around her waist and caught her, pulling her back against him.
“Completely unfair,” he said again, his breath hot on her nape. “It’s like the gods deliberately designed you to enchant and bewitch me...”
Her heart thundered, and she felt light-headed. He held her securely against him with one arm, his hand spread on her belly. He was so warm and strong, so comforting and exciting. His free hand skimmed up her arm to her shoulder, and his fingers caressed her cheek.
She felt like a criminal, conniving to steal affections she had no right to. “Enchantments... rarely end well,” she said breathlessly.
“No?” He turned her to face him. The corner of his mouth tilted upward, and his hazel eyes darkened. “I think this one will. But either way, I’m willing to risk it...” He tipped up her chin, and Georgiana knew, with a mixture of alarm and exhilaration, that she wasn’t going to stop him from kissing her...
“Ho there,” called a voice. “Lady Georgiana! Lord Sterling!”
Rob froze, his lips less than an inch from hers.
Angus emerged from the trees, fishing pole on his shoulder and basket in his hand. With a mortified gasp, Georgiana twisted out of Rob’s embrace. “Beggin’ your pardon, my lord. I forgot, Lady Winston told me to inquire if you and Lady Georgiana plan to dine with the family. She worried you might take ill again, in the sun.”
Rob’s jaw flexed. “No, no one is ill. We’ll be at dinner.”
“Yes, m’lord. Shall I carry back the hamper?”
“Absolutely.”
“And the blanket, please.” Her face on fire, Georgiana splashed gracelessly out of the water. If not for the servant, Rob would have kissed her... might still be kissing her... might have kept kissing her as he carried her back to the blanket and gave in to the undeniable attraction sparking between them. And she would have let him—worse, she might have evenencouragedhim. She would have betrayed and dishonored herself and Sterling, all for a fleeting moment of pleasure.
And the worst part was, she felt more misery that it hadn’t happened than that ithadalmost happened.
