Page 25 of The Taming of the Duke
“Do you wish to return to the house, Miss Parville?” he asked. “Or are you prepared to suffer my company a little longer?”
“Perhaps we can tarry a while longer,” she said. “I prefer the outdoors, and the countryside hereabouts is beautiful. It seems a shame to waste the day stuck inside discussing embroidery stitches with the other ladies. And, besides,” she added, “while the extension of our excursion means I must endure your company a little longer, I’ve always been taught to believe that a little suffering does wonders for one’s character.”
“I must applaud you, Miss Parville, in performing a great service to our society.”
“How so?”
A wicked gleam shone in his eyes. “Because by spending a little time in your company,everyliving soul must find their character much improved.”
“Perhaps,” she replied. “But there must also be exceptions to the general rule.” She met his gaze unwaveringly and bit her lip to stem the tide of mirth bubbling inside her. “Some individuals, I find, are wholly irredeemable, even those who ask me to spend more time with them on an outing.”
His eyes widened in mock hurt. The laughter inside her threatened to burst, and she let out an unladylike snort. Unable to contain herself any longer, she let the laughter ripple through her, until they relaxed back into their seats, shaking with mirth.
He pulled her close, and the laughter died on her lips as she gazed into his eyes—two sapphire pools, dark with desire.
“Catherine…”
He lowered his mouth to hers.
She drew in a sharp breath and parted her lips. His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, then slipped inside. With gentle strokes, he claimed her, and she savored the taste of him—the blend of honey and spices.
Expert fingers caressed her neckline, then his hand slipped inside her gown.
She froze as the memory came flooding back…
…a hand, which had sought to claim her body—a suitor who had sought to take what he wanted, then discard her, leaving her heartbroken. And a voice, filled with contempt, gray eyes filled with derision.
Who’d want to court an ugly little thing like you, Miss Parville?
“Miss Parville?”
She blinked and stared up into eyes that were blue, not gray—a face which bore an expression of desire, not contempt.
“Forgive me, Miss Parville,” he said. “I had no intention of compromising you.”
He withdrew and took the reins again, and she caught her breath at the sense of loss.
“Shall we continue?” he asked. “I have a fancy to visit one of the neighboring estates. Hurstpoint Place.
She drew in a sharp breath. “Did you sayHurstpoint Place?”
“Have you heard of it?”
“I-I believe so,” she said, “though I may be mistaken.” She forced calm into her voice to conceal the maelstrom of emotions. “W-who lives there?”
“An old school friend,” he said. “Though, I hesitate to call himfriend. We were at Eton together. He’s something of a rogue—which is saying something coming frommylips, I admit.” He grinned at her, but she’d lost her appetite for teasing.
“The grounds are worth exploring,” he continued. “Mrs. Leander is somewhat obsessed with her gardens.”
Icy fingers clutched at her heart. “D-did you say—Leander?”
“That’s right,” he said. “Andrew Leander. He has no title, but his mother was the younger daughter of a duke—which he reminds everyone all too frequently.”
“No…”
Catherine shivered and drew her shawl about her.
Andrew…
