Page 19 of Look at Her Duke
Her gaze was locked on the hen, her breathing shallow. Why was he here? Why had he come to the garden?
Was it possible he’d chosen her over Emma?
“Amelia, I…”
He began, but when he trailed off, she held her breath.
When his hand covered hers—where it rested atop the chicken—she startled and darted a glance at him.
“There ye are,” he murmured, his lips curling softly. “This is easier with ye looking at me.”
“What is?” she whispered.
“Me telling ye my feelings.”
Oh.
He shifted until he was kneeling in front of her, his back to the rosemary, his gaze intense. “Amelia, ye ken I cared for yebefore I left, aye? I told ye the reason I ran, because I didnae want to besmirched yer honor—or my friendship with Alistair—by acting upon any of my feelings.”
She swallowed, now unable to look away.
“What I didnae tell ye,” he whispered, “was that my feelings havenae changed.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in, and her lips formed a little “oh” of surprise. “They…have not?”
Kip shook his head. “I love ye, Lady Amelia Kincaid. I have for so many years, and I thought I’d go mad from it. I wasnae worthy of loving ye, no’ then—”
She squeezed his hand. “You are the worthiest, Kipling. You are the same person you have always been.”
The silence lasted a dozen heartbeats, before The Grin slowly arrived.
“Ye’re the only one who can see that,” he murmured, his blue gaze caressing her face. “Ye and Alistair and Fawkes, I guess. To everyone else, I’m a duke.”
“Well, yes.” Amelia shrugged a little awkwardly, what with the chicken in her lap. “Youarea duke. But you are also still Kipling…the man I used to spy on when he visited my brother, because I thought him the most handsome man in the world.”
He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingertips without dropping her gaze. “And now?”
Amelia forced herself to take a deep breath. “I still think you the most handsome man in the world. But…”
When he nipped at the skin on the back of her knuckles, a jolt of something shot through her body, and her eyes opened wide.
“But?” Kip prompted.
“But I also think you are…kind…and supportive and-and-and—”
“Ye’re having trouble concentrating, love?”
He’d flipped her hand over, and his lips were now pressed against her wrist. Each kiss was a brand against her soul.
“And you seeme,” she gasped out, pressing her thighs together and squirming a bit. “You always have.”
“And I always will,” he promised.
That vow seemed…important. It probably was. But Amelia was having trouble concentrating.
“Amelia, ye have my sincere apologies for everything that bitch has ever said to ye.”
She gasped, half horrified, half delighted. “Emma?”
