Page 22 of The Dark Duke's Virgin

Their lips met in a glorious clash of skin and saliva and tongue. Their bodies pressed together as if melting into one. Both hands on her waist, he squeezed as tightly as he could while biting into her lips and growling while she thrashed and tore her head back, only to then plunge forward again and kiss him as if her life depended on it.

It might have gone on forever if a crash from outside didn’t snap them back into the moment. Enough that Frederick’s eyes shotopen, seeming to come into himself just as Miss Dowding did the same.

She pushed him away and stumbled, wiping at her mouth as if she had swallowed poison.

“How dare you!” she snarled.

“Me?” he chuckled, heart still pounding, temper flaring. “Do not pretend that you did not want it.”

“I most certainly did not!”

“You have a strange way of showing it, Miss Dowding.”

Her eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to snarl, only for Frederick’s mother to suddenly appear in the doorway.

“Well?” she said, a quick look at the two but unable to take them in properly, for Isabella came flying into her. “Oh!” she yelped as the little girl’s arms wrapped about her.

“Did she say yes?” Isabella cried. “Did she?”

Frederick’s eyes went wide as he looked at Miss Dowding for confirmation. She looked back at him, mouth open like a fish trying to breathe on land. They had decided nothing! And with Isabelle buzzing excitedly, Frederick thought as quickly as he could.

“We came to a compromise,” he said, his tongue working faster than his mind could keep up. “Miss Dowding is in no way suited to be your full-time governess.”

Isabella let go of her grandmother. “But?—”

“But…” Frederick spoke over her, “… it will take some time before I can find a proper replacement for Miss Wanton. Which means that for the next few weeks at least…” He avoided looking at Miss Dowding entirely. “… Miss Dowding will happily fill that role.”

“Really?!” Isabella squealed. “You mean it! Does he, Caroline?”

It was clear that Caroline was as caught off guard by the announcement as Frederick was to have made it. A compromise? Frederick did not compromise! And yet, for the first time perhaps ever, he had been forced to do such. Miss Dowding… like a venomous spider, she had ensnared Frederick in her web, and it was all he could do to keep her at bay lest she devour him in ways that, to be honest, were more tempting than he liked to admit.

“Ye— yes,” Caroline stammered. “Temporary, of course. Only a few weeks.”

“Yay!”

“Wonderful,” his mother said and clapped her hands together. “Personally, I am just glad to see the two of you getting along.”She looked between Frederick and Miss Dowding. “Truly, I wasn’t entirely certain that you would. But I suppose I need not worry.”

“Of course, mother. …..” Frederick was quick to compose himself, even if he could feel the sweat through his clothes. “Miss Dowding is a wonderful choice of companion, and I am sure she will make an excellent, temporary governess. Right, Miss Dowding?”

She was glaring at him as she spoke but was quick to recover. “I could not agree more. Truly, I cannot wait to start.” Another quick glare thrown in his direction, cut off as Isabelle charged the woman and threw her arms around her in an embrace.

This was only temporary… it was only for a few weeks… there was nothing to worry about. Frederick repeated these words in his head, forced to admit that never in his entire life had he told himself lies such as this.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Good girl,” Caroline encouraged as she walked around the pianoforte, nodding her head along to the rhythm of the music. “Very well done.”

“You are just saying that,” Isabella grumbled, scrunching her face into a tight ball as if annoyed; her hands still moved ably across the keys of the pianoforte, doing a rather adept job at playing as she spoke. “You have to.”

“On the contrary,” Caroline chuckled, “I am the one person who does not have to say that. And believe me…” Caroline made sure to catch Isabella’s eye, winking at her. “… if you sounded horrendous, I would let you know it.”

Isabella snorted, and as she did, she accidentally struck the wrong key. “Oh!”

“Concentrate…”

“It was not my fault!”

“Are you not the one playing?”

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