Page 16 of Devoted to the Duke (The St. Clairs 1)

“I, too, would like to visit tomorrow because I enjoy your company.”

His head bent toward hers and Catherine knew she was about to be kissed. She’d practiced doing so for hours, pressing her feather pillow to her mouth, in case this very thing occurred.

When his lips touched hers, though, it was nothing like she had imagined. He brushed his softly against hers, causing the blood to pound in her ears. When he began to pull away, she clutched his coat and moved toward him. His hands skimmed her neck and settled on her shoulders, holding her in place.

Afraid he wouldn’t kiss her again, Catherine started to tell him why he should just as his mouth touched hers once more. Somehow, she must have given him an unspoken invitation because his tongue swept inside her mouth and, suddenly, she was falling. Her fingers tightened as a moan escaped from her. He tasted like the claret he’d drunk, as well as the strawberries they’d shared. The sandalwood soap he’d used rose from him, making her dizzy.

He broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder as he released her. Catherine swayed slightly and he took her hand and placed it on his forearm, leading her back toward the French doors and the ballroom. When they reached them, he halted.

“Forgive me, Lady Catherine. I did not mean to take advantage of you. Fortunately, no other couples were in sight.”

“You’re... apologizing?” All the blissful feelings fled, replaced by ones of insecurity.

“As I should. A gentleman should never—”

“I don’t care. I wanted you to kiss me,” she confessed.

His eyes widened. One brow shot up, giving him a rakish look.

“I’ve never been kissed before. I’ve practiced on my pillow at night, hoping someone would want to kiss me.” She bit her lip. “From what you say, you did so and didn’t want to. Or didn’t think you should.” Her eyes searched his. “How do you think that makes me feel?”

He let out a long sigh. “I did want to kiss you,” he said softly. “Very much. And I’m selfish enough to be pleased that I’m the first man you’ve ever kissed.”

His words did more than mollify her. He’dwantedto kiss her. Joy swept through her. The Marquess of Sather had kissed her because he wanted to. Yet the stern look on his face told her he probably wouldn’t in the future. That he thought it had been a mistake.

“Lady Catherine, you must understand...”

“No. Don’t say it,” she ordered. “If you tell me you regret it, I’ll die of embarrassment. You’ll probably think me brazen but I enjoyed my first kiss. I can’t imagine any man I would rather kiss than you. And if you choose never to speak to me again because I’ve been so blunt, I will understand. I won’t be happy about it but I will soldier on. Please do not feel obligated to call on me tomorrow, my lord.”

She released her hold on him, ready to flee before she made a bigger mess of things than she already had. He caught her wrist and she turned, looking him in the eye.

“I look forward to calling on you. And introducing our sisters.”

Catherine swallowed. “Very well,” she said stiffly.

He took a step closer and said, “I will see you tomorrow. And again tonight. For our dance.”

*

Jeremy reluctantly releasedCatherine and watched her cross the ballroom, the sapphire ball gown clinging to her in all the right places. He turned away, afraid he might chase after her, and returned to the night air to clear his head. He raised a gloved hand and could still smell her perfume.

Though he’d been to his fair share oftonevents, no woman had been the breath of fresh air that Catherine Crawford was. Not only was she a rare beauty, but kindness radiated from her. As he paced, he couldn’t believe all of what they’d spoken of. It was as if Jeremy had been slumbering for a decade and suddenly awakened, all his senses coming alive. Being able to talk about Timothy once again had been more than a relief. It had renewed Jeremy’s spirit. No longer would he keep the memories of his brother shoved into a far corner of his mind, locked away. Catherine had opened that locked box and allowed Timothy St. Clair to live once more, if only through cherished memories. Jeremy saw how wrong his father had been to order everyone to keep Timothy’s name from their lips. He would never keep quiet about his brother again and encourage others who’d known Timothy to do the same.

Exhilarated, Jeremy returned to the ballroom, where he danced with two young women who looked at him worshipfully. He politely spoke of the weather and the string quartet’s performance and how much he’d enjoyed the evening’s buffet selection before excusing himself and moving to the card room. He wanted to meet Catherine’s father and see for himself the kind of man who shrugged off material possessions and raised such a remarkable daughter.

He saw Morefield standing with Neville, drinks in hand, and made his way toward them.

“Hiding in the card room?” he asked, knowing his friend had told Catherine he must leave the ball to attend to urgent business.

Morefield shrugged. “I didn’t know where else to go. As it is, I’ve already lost all I can afford to this evening. Might as well make my way home. Say, would you care to go riding tomorrow morning?”

“I can’t. I already promised Rachel I would take her. How about the day after?”

“Why don’t you meet me at the club instead? We can have luncheon,” Morefield suggested. “You’re welcome to come, Neville.”

“Splendid idea,” agreed Neville. “I think I’ll get back to the cards. My losing streak has to end sometime. I’m surprised to see you here, Sather. You rarely play.”

Jeremy enjoyed cards and was an astute player but he associated gameplay with his father. The duke’s well-known forays into gambling were legendary among theton. Because of that, he played infrequently, though he usually won when he did.

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