Page 1 of The Duke of Kisses
Prologue
Stour’s Edge, Suffolk, England
December 1817
Frances Snowden glared at the rabbit hole but quickly acknowledged she was angry with herself, not the tiny animal she’d foolishly followed through the copse and up the hill and over an icy stream.
Blast, she was an idiot. She’d seen the rabbit hunkered down near a tree. It had seemed to be shivering, and so she’d decided to scoop it up and take it home before it succumbed to the elements. But as soon as she’d moved close, the animal had scampered away.
Satisfied the rabbit would be fine, Fanny watched it run until it stopped. Then it sat down and began to quiver again. That had started what seemed to be a game of cat and mouse as Fanny went after it, and it ran away, then stopped again. Over and over until it had disappeared down its hole.
“Well, I suppose I did see you safely home,” Fanny muttered. “You’re welcome!”
She pulled her woolen cloak more tightly about her and looked up at the muted sky as the first snowflake struck her square on the nose.
“Oh, to be that snowflake.” A masculine voice rent the quiet, drawing Fanny to spin about toward the source of the sound.
A tall gentleman lounged against a tree as if he frequented hills in the middle of a snowstorm with careless ease. Er,possiblesnowstorm. Fanny squinted her eyes toward the heavens once more and wondered just how far from Stour’s Edge she’d strayed.
“Miss?”
There was that voice again, reminding her that the snow and her unknown location were perhaps not her most troubling problems at present.
“I’m on my way home—to Stour’s Edge,” she added hastily.
A single dark brow the color of the chocolate she’d taken to drinking each morning since coming to live with her sister arced into an upside-down V as he pushed away from the tree and sauntered toward her. The wide brim of his hat shaded his features, but they were clearly visible, from the chocolate hair visible at his temples to the strong line of his jaw. “I see. You must be the Duke’s bride.”
“I am not.”
The man’s dove-gray eyes flickered with appreciation. “I see. How nice.”
Was he flirting with her? Fanny had next to no experience with that. Mr. Duckworth had tried such nonsense with her, but his efforts always seemed far more…lascivious. She would forever thank her sister for saving her from certain doom. Without Ivy inviting her to come live at Stour’s Edge, Fanny would undoubtedly have found herself the nextMrs.Duckworth. The third, in fact.
Best to just let this gentleman know she wasn’t the sort of woman he might think. “I’m afraid I’m not adept at flirting, nor do I have any interest.”
“Was I flirting?” He moved closer, his athletic frame moving easily. “I didn’t intend to. But I never do, and then a beautiful woman happens across my path, and I simply can’t help myself.” His lips curved into an arresting smile.
Fanny’s breath caught. He was the most handsome person she’d ever clapped eyes on. And he was looking at her as if he maybe thought the same thing about her.
Except, he’d just said he flirted with all beautiful women, which meant this wasn’t a singular event for him, as it was for her. And really, she wasn’t beautiful. Far from it. She had freckles and her lips were too full, as her mother was fond of pointing out. “You’re definitely flirting,” she said warily.
“And you are on your guard. As you should be. You’re a bit far from Stour’s Edge, however. Are you certain that is where you are from?”
He doubted her? Actually, perhaps it was best that he did. This was a scandalous encounter, and it would behoove her to keep it from becoming known. Which meant she couldn’t tell anyone about it, and she didn’t wanthimtelling anyone about it either.
“I think I’ll just be on my way.” She turned from him and started down the hill. She made it about twenty feet before she stopped and frowned. She had absolutely no idea where she was going.Blast it all.
“Are you lost?”
The question came from far too close behind her, and she jumped. She quickly turned and backed up at the same time, moving quickly and without care for her location near the top of the hill. Just enough snow had accumulated that she slipped.
And tumbled down the hill.
She landed in a heap at the bottom, her eyes closed and her body smarting from rolling over a few times on the way down.
“Hellfire!”
The proximity of his deep voice made her open her eyes. The concerned, yet still unbelievably handsome, face of the stranger hovered over hers.
