Page 10 of The Hero

She snorted. “And we both know that it is not acceptable for me to address a duke with such familiarity, when we are alone or otherwise.”

“It is acceptable to me,” he rasped.

She eyed him from beneath lowered dark lashes. “And is everyone always to agree with what the Duke of Oxford decides is acceptable?”

“It would be exceedingly arrogant of me to think that should be the case.”

“Really?” Her shock was obviously feigned as she came to a halt beneath a bower of perfumed flowers. “I cannot imagine why anyone might think that.”

The light from the lamp hanging in the bower allowed Gideon to see the laughter shining in Harry’s deep blue eyes. “You really do enjoy playing these word games with me,” he observed mildly.

Small and even white teeth gleamed briefly as she grinned. “I admit, it is fast becoming one of my favorite pastimes.”

“Indeed.” Gideon looked at her from beneath hooded lids. “Would you be surprised to learn that I wish for my own new favorite pastime to become kissing you?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Harry’s shock was very real this time. Enough so that, for once, she could find no words to say in answer to such an outrageous statement.

Unless…

Had Oxford decided to play her at her own word game?

Of course he had. He had said as much earlier.

But it appeared he did not know how to play this game as well as she did!

Because a man as sophisticated and worldly as Gideon Harrington would not be in the least interested in kissing a young miss from the country who, because her father had been away in the army the previous year and not inclined to travel to London this year, had not yet been given a Season.

In truth, Harry had been the one to persuade her father against having her presented this year. She could imagine no worse torture than having to travel to London, followed by a Season of always dressing and behaving as a polite and accomplished young lady. Especially when the only reason for doing so was to find herself a suitable husband.

Harry did not wish for a husband, suitable or otherwise.

Luckily, her father harbored no such ambitions on her behalf either. He was no more eager to see her depart their home than she was to leave it.

Her mother had died when Harry was aged only twelve and on the brink of becoming a woman. In the physical sense, at least. It had been an emotionally difficult time for all the family. Even Edward had come home from school for the funeral and stayed for several weeks after. But eventually, he had returned to Eton, leaving Harry and her father alone together at Dunhill Park.

Her father had not remarried in the seven years since, nor had he sent Harry away to finishing school or to attend a London Season with her aunt. As a consequence, Harry was now closer to her father emotionally than many other girls of her age and circumstances.

She knew from talking to some of other young ladies at the local assemblies they occasionally attended that most fathers did not visit the nursery nor otherwise spend time with their daughters. That they only took an interest in them when it came time for them to make an advantageous marriage.

Her father, thankfully, was not of that ilk, and the two of them often spent their evenings together once she was old enough to discuss such things as books and politics with him. This past year, after Harry’s governess, Miss Pettigrew, had retired to the coast to live with her widowed sister now that Harry no longer needed her services, she had also become her father’s hostess at his Gloucestershire estate for the occasions when it was necessary for him to entertain the local gentry.

In truth, there were not many such occasions, because her father no more enjoyed dinner parties, or really any sort of social event, than she did.

But if Oxford thought he could toy with her because of her lack of experience in those social skills, he was going to be sadly disappointed.

She looked up at him unflinchingly in the moonlight. “Then what is stopping you?” she challenged.

* * *

Gideon frowned, unsure of the reason for the anger he discerned in Harry’s beautiful blue eyes. Her lips were inviting him to kiss her. The sparkle in her eyes was daring him to do so.

His own gaze became riveted on the sensuous softness of her lips.

He noted that rather than the top lip being bigger than the bottom as many peoples were, Harry’s were of equal fullness. Causing Gideon to ache with a need to thoroughly kiss and then suck on the perfect cupid’s bow of her top lip, before licking and tasting the sweetness behind those lips.

Another glance at the challenge in her eyes warned him against attempting to do so. “Which part of what I said upset you?” he prompted instead.

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