Page 21 of Midnight with the Marquess (The St. Clairs 2)

“Midnight tomorrow?” he asked.

“Midnight tomorrow,” she agreed.

*

Rachel awoke, surprisedshe’d slept any at all, since Evan’s second lesson had kept her tossing and turning. She’d never imagined all the places one could be kissed. He stirred incredible feelings within her. She closed her eyes and imagined his lips grazing her jaw. His tongue tracing along her ear. His mouth on her breast. She didn’t even touch her own breasts, except to run a quick washcloth over them. It seemed almost taboo to even do that. Quietly, she raised her fingers to one and squeezed it slightly. She allowed her thumb to brush across the nipple, causing it to pebble. Not only did it make her breath quicken but it also caused other places on her to come alive. She squeezed her nether region, another place she didn’t linger when she washed.

She wondered if that, too, was a place that could be kissed. For a moment, Rachel imagined Evan lifting her skirts and pressing his mouth against it. The wicked thought caused her body to heat.

How could she face him at breakfast this morning?

She would. She’d never been a coward. Besides, he wouldn’t know she’d thought something so terrible. At least she hoped not.

Leah began to stir so Rachel sat up and swung her legs from the bed. They washed and dressed for breakfast and went downstairs. The room was more crowded than yesterday, probably because of the picnic that Alford had announced at dinner last night. It would be served by the lake at one this afternoon and she figured more people rose early to eat a little something now to tide them over before the picnic commenced.

Rachel went to the sideboard and gathered her usual hearty breakfast. While Leah went to sit with Alford and Evan, she decided to eat with Cor.

Taking a place beside her grandmother, she asked, “Are you enjoying your stay at Fairfield?”

“It’s a very pleasant place. Leah is going to be happy here.”

“I think she could be happy living in a hovel if Alford lived there with her.”

Cor chuckled. “She is quite in love with the boy, isn’t she?”

“I’m very happy for her,” Rachel said. “Though it’s starting to hit me that I will miss her terribly once she’s married and gone.”

“I know she’ll want you as a frequent guest at Fairfield. At least until you marry yourself,” Cor said, eying her. “What do you think of Merrick, Alford’s friend?”

She took a sip of tea, hoping no blush rose on her cheeks.

“He’s very nice. We went riding yesterday.”

“I know.”

Cor fell silent and Rachel knew why. Every time she wanted to get information from someone, her grandmother would start a conversation and then grow quiet. The other person usually felt obligated to fill the gap and thus spilled to Cor whatever she was after. It had worked on Rachel as a child.

Not anymore.

Instead, she attacked her meal with gusto. Cor eventually returned to her own food and others sitting nearby included them in their conversations.

“Since the men are not shooting today, is anyone up for a ride this morning?” Alford asked.

Several people agreed with enthusiasm. Rachel didn’t say anything. She waited to see what Evan would do.

Her dinner companion from last night, Lord Merrifield, turned to her. “Are you up for a ride, Lady Rachel?”

“I think not,” she said. “I’m eager to see Alford’s gardens.”

“I’d be delighted to show them to you,” Merrifield replied enthusiastically.

Two other gentlemen chimed in, both wishing to escort her. Rachel politely agreed and then looked down the table. Evan arched one eyebrow at her and turned back to his coffee.

Rachel excused herself in order to collect her parasol. Not only would it keep her hands occupied, but it would provide a slight buffer so none of her escorts could get too close to her.

She met the three gentlemen in the foyer and they retreated across the wide expanse of green lawn and then took their time meandering through the gardens. Rachel noted the placement of shrubs and the variety of flowers. They passed several Chippendale seats along the various paths and two fountains. She thought her favorite thing might be the bridge they crossed over until they arrived at a gazebo. The eight arches reached high to an Italian-styled roof. A low fence encircled the structure. Three benches and several single chairs rested inside.

“Oh, let’s sit for a bit,” she told her escorts.

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