Page 15 of The Duke of Kisses
“How can we help?” Anthony asked.
“Lady Northam has a curricle near Grosvenor Gate in which to transport Miss Snowden home,” David said. “One of you can likely fetch it faster than she can.”
“I’ll go,” Felix offered, taking off at a run before anyone could respond.
Fanny leaned toward David’s ear and whispered, “You should put me down.”
He started walking toward the drive, and she noticed he stayed far away from the water’s edge. “I’ll set you into the curricle when it arrives. I don’t want you catching cold.”
“So you’re keeping me warm, then?” His thoughtfulness certainly warmed her. “I’m getting you all wet.”
“I’ll survive.” He winced, and the reaction made her frown.
“What’s the matter?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not?”
“A splinter brought my father down. What’s to say a wet coat won’t see me to my end?”
Fear laced through her. “You don’t really believe that. Do you?”
“Not rationally, no. I suppose it’s possible, but it’s unlikely.” He gave his head a shake. “This is a dismal topic, and I insist we depart from it.”
“Whatever you wish. Though sometime, I hope you’ll tell me about your father.”
He glanced down at her, but his expression was unreadable.
The entourage of people, including Sarah and Lavinia, followed them to the drive. Heeding her own advice—and David’s—Fanny kept her voice low. “You don’t have to keep carrying me. I must be rather heavy. I’m too tall, and my dress must weigh an extra half stone at least now that it’s wet.”
“I doubt that, but in any case, you aren’t heavy at all.”
As he paused to adjust her weight in his arms, she wasn’t sure she believed him. But she didn’t protest again. Instead, she inhaled the scent of pine and clove that clung to his jacket. “You smell divine,” she whispered near his ear.
“Fanny, you must stop doing that.” His voice was low and urgent.
“What, whispering in your ear or telling you that you smell nice?”
“All of it. Particularly since my clothing is—” He snapped his mouth closed. “Never mind.”
She wanted to ask what his clothing was, but they’d reached the drive, and Sarah moved around to Fanny’s lower half and wrung water from the hem of her gown.
“You don’t have to do that, Sarah. You’ll ruin your gloves,” Fanny said.
“They’re just gloves.”
Lavinia winked at Fanny. “She’s saving the interior of my new curricle.”
Fanny laughed, then focused her gaze on David, whose jaw was still tense. “Since you walked, does that mean you live close?”
“On Bolton Street.”
“Lovely. Clare House is in Berkeley Square. In case you wanted to know.” It was a shameless solicitation for him to call on her—if he was paying attention.
He slanted a look at her, his lips twitching briefly. “I did, in fact.” Good, hewaspaying attention.
Felix drove the curricle toward them. He came to a stop nearby, and Lavinia’s groom jumped from the back to help Lavinia into the vehicle.
