Page 16 of Lusting for the Duke's Kiss
There was a tense silence as they gazed at each other. Hetty was the first to look away, her heart pounding.
At that moment, Della sprinted off, leaping and barking down the garden path. A bird was flying low that had captured her attention. To Hetty’s dismay, the dog nudged her way through a hole in the back fence and sprinted off into the field in hot pursuit of it.
“Della, no!” she cried, running down the path.
But the dog did not even look back at her. She was sprinting harder, now, barking excitedly at the bird.
The Duke was by her side. “We should go after her,” he said.
Hetty nodded. Without another word, she pushed open the gate, and they were running through the field, calling the dog’s name. It took them five minutes before Della finally stopped, panting hard.
“No,” scolded Hetty, leaning down and scooping her up. “You are not allowed to run off by yourself. You could get lost.”
Della whined, not liking her mistress’s tone.
“Perhaps we should give her the opportunity for a longer walk,” said the Duke, staring at them both. “She is probably feeling a bit housebound. It cannot hurt.”
Hetty hesitated. They were already far from the house. But after a moment, she nodded, putting the dog back down. Della yelped delightedly, sprinting off again, and they commenced walking, following her path.
They were almost to the apple tree. The Duke smiled, staring up at the old tree and its low branches, heaving with fruit.
“What a delightful spot,” he said, gazing up at it. He reached up to a branch, picking two apples, and handed one to her, before sitting down near the trunk, taking a bite of his own.
Hetty hesitated again, but shrugged, sitting down beside him. She took a bite of her apple. It was juicy and delicious, as they always were from this tree if a little past its prime. The only sound was munching for a moment.
“Is this your father’s land?” he asked, swallowing a bite as he gazed around, down the valley at the fields beyond.
She nodded. “Yes. We own five acres, beyond the house.” She smiled. “I know these fields like the back of my hand. My father used to take me on long walks when I was a girl. There is a small lake,further up, which is beautiful. One of my best memories is swimming in it, when I was young, and feeding the ducks.”
“You will have to take me there, one day,” he said, glancing sideways at her. “I am fond of feeding ducks, myself. And a dip in the water is always pleasant, on a hot summer’s day.”
Hetty flushed. A vision of him, striding into the water, and swimming, pushing through the watery depths, suddenly appeared in her mind’s eye. It was so vivid that she could even see his wet black hair and droplets of water spilling into the air, as he moved within it.
She shivered, despite the heat of the day. Looking down at her arm, she was appalled to find goose flesh had appeared. What was wrong with her? Firmly, she tried to dispel the image, but it persisted, causing her flush to deepen.
“Is that a swing?” he asked suddenly, finishing the last bite of his apple, and tossing the core away.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Yes. My father made it for me when I was a little girl.” She laughed self-consciously. “I am afraid it is rather weathered. I would not be able to swing on it, now.”
He turned to her, gazing at her intently. “You could try. Let me push you.”
Before she could protest, he jumped to his feet, holding out his hand to her. There was a challenging look in his eyes.
She took another deep breath, taking his hand. There was a crackle as their flesh connected, but she ignored it. He pulled her to her feet, and the next minute, she was trying to sit on the old wooden swing, wiggling herself to fit, feeling just slightly ridiculous. What on earth was she doing?
He stood close behind her, and abruptly, she felt his hands on her back, pushing her. The branch creaked ominously as she was suddenly airborne. The wind unloosened her hair, and she felt it streaming behind her. She closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of the sun on her face, and the wind in her hair.
He pushed her again, a mighty push, and she was flying higher. A laugh of pure delight escaped her lips. She had not felt like this since she was a little girl. It had been years since she had sat on this swing. Probably over ten years. She missed it.
The world was spinning, the sky seemingly dipping to reach her, so intense a blue that it seemed to consume her. She pushed back, willing herself higher when suddenly, the rope broke, and she landed on her backside with a thud.
The Duke rushed to her side, his eyes creased with concern, as he leant over her. “Are you alright?”
She nodded instinctively, not sure yet. But then, a laugh suddenly bubbled up within her chest. It broke out, and she was suddenly heaving with it, bent over, doubled up with hilarity.
He stared at her, stunned, for a moment. But then his mouth started to twitch, and he joined in. His laugh was deep and rich. She clutched her belly, unable to stop it. It almost felt as good as swinging through the air had, moments ago. As liberating and intoxicating.
He pulled her to her feet as they kept laughing breathlessly.
