Page 57 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
Minerva looked back, sighed. “Yes, he’s a bit protective of my reputation. He doesn’t want me to be forced into marriage because a gent behaved badly.”
“Have some behaved badly?”
His question surprised her, even more so the tone of it, as though he was angered by the thought. “One did rip my bodice, thinking if it appeared I was compromised, we’d have a hasty trip to the altar.”
“Dear God, you can’t be serious.”
“I’m afraid I am. The next time I saw him, he was quite bruised and battered. I’m not certain who meted out the punishment: my father or one of my brothers. Lovingdon has been a hovering hen ever since.” Turning slightly, she called back, “I’m fine.”
“Grace was in need of some air,” Lovingdon said, as they neared.
“I’m sure she was,” Minerva muttered.
The couple stopped, and she was very much aware of Lovingdon sizing up Ashebury. “Should probably avoid the shadows,” her brother said. “Might find yourself slamming into a fist.”
“I have no plans to compromise your sister,” Ashebury said, and Minerva wondered at her disappointment. Nor did the irony escape her—he’d already compromised her. He just didn’t know it.
“Plans can sometimes go awry,” Lovingdon said flatly.
“For God’s sake, Lovingdon,” Minerva snapped. “Nothing is going to happen that I don’t want to happen.”
“What exactly do you want to happen?” he asked sharply.
“Sweetheart,” Grace said, flattening her palm against his chest. “We should probably return to our guests right about now.”
“Not until I have an answer.”
“It’s truly not any of our business.” He looked at his wife as though she’d gone mad. She cradled his cheek. “She’s old enough to know her own mind. Now come along.”
Glaring at Ashebury, he gave a long, slow nod. “Yes, all right.” Then he tilted his head at Minerva. “Remember what I taught you.”
“Enjoy the gardens,” Grace said before urging her husband back toward the residence.
“That was interesting,” Ashe said.
“I’m sorry. He can be a bit much sometimes.”
“It’s not a problem. If I had a sister, I would probably want to look after her as well.”
She couldn’t help but think that his sister would be a very fortunate girl. “Shall we carry on?” she asked.
“What did he teach you?”
The heat of embarrassment rushed up her cheeks. “How to double a man over with my knee.”
His eyes widened. “I see. Not trusting men seems to be common in your family.”
“Again, it’s not that we don’t trust men. We question their motives.”
“Quite right.” He offered his arm, and she took it. They’d taken merely three steps when he said, “You didn’t answer his question.”
“Which question was that?”
“What exactly do you want to happen?”
IT was too soon. He knew that. If he didn’t take into account their time at the Nightingale, it was too soon. But that lay between them, whether or not she admitted it. The remnants of last night lingered, sharpened the senses, made him more aware of her than he might have been otherwise. He couldn’t help but believe that she was experiencing the same desires, the same needs.
He waited, when all he really wanted was to usher her into the shadows and kiss her senseless. Give her a reminder of why she should return to the Nightingale, what would be waiting for her there with him. She glanced around as though searching for an answer.
