Page 26 of The Last Duke She'd Marry
“Oh, Juliet…” His heart ached with compassion. Because he should have seen before this that duty had directed the entire course of her life.
This time, resentment lit those magnificent eyes. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me.”
He spread his hands in apology. “I wouldn’t be so bold.”
Except he did feel sorry for her. He’d come to like Lord Portdown, almost despite himself, but his lordship’s theatrical mania meant that he had no interest in filling a father’s role. Someone had to take charge of Portia and Viola. And Juliet, with her strong principles, would step up without complaint.
She studied him with a suspicion that he knew he deserved. “I don’t think a lack of boldness is your problem.”
It wasn’t. Perhaps it might even be his salvation. “How innocent?”
She frowned. “What?”
“How innocent are you?”
“I’ve never had a lover. You know that.”
He did. Now. “Have you been kissed?”
Juliet wasn’t someone who blushed often. Now even in the twilight, he watched color flood her cheeks. “I don’t see that you have any right to ask that question,” she spluttered.
He had his answer. What a tragic waste. “Not even Bolton?”
“His Grace was all that was correct,” she said stiffly.
“And a great bore besides, I imagine.”
Resentment darkened her expression. “A rapscallion like you has no right to criticize a good man who died too young.”
A good man who didn’t have the gumption to kiss the lady he meant to marry. How had the clodpoll resisted? Juliet, with all her banked fire, was born to be kissed. Surely Evesham wasn’t the only fellow who itched to awaken this woman’s passion.
“Perhaps not, but a rapscallion like me can show you what it’s like to kiss a man. You’re nearly twenty-six, Juliet. Don’t you think it’s time you discovered that life has pleasures as well as obligations?”
“You want to kiss me?” she asked shakily.
“You know I do.” And the rest, even if he couldn’t imagine that he’d ever fulfill that particular ambition.
But a kiss in the early summer twilight? That he might coax her into granting him.
“That would be wrong.”
Interesting. Not an out-and-out refusal. He could tell that beneath the discouraging manner, she was intrigued. She’d always responded to him with a beguiling mixture of wariness and fascination.
“Why? You’re not promised to another man, and I’m as free as a bird. We’re both of age. Aren’t you even a little curious to discover what it’s like?”
“So an experiment?”
She still hadn’t told him to go to blazes. Wonders would never cease. “If you like.”
Juliet studied him, as if she could see right through to his ramshackle soul. She probably could. Juliet was no fool. “One kiss?”
Evesham shrugged. “Or several, if you decide that you’d like to venture further.”
“Nothing else?”
He sighed. “Juliet, I’m not a ravening beast. I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give. I’ll stop when you ask me to.”
He was renowned for his finesse with a lover. Here, he had more incentive than usual to do a good job.
