“But I told you, I like the way you blush. Besides, since I situated myself next to you, Fernbridge has glanced at you several times.”
She started to look at the duke.
Elliot’s gentle touch on her arm stopped her. “Don’t look at him, darling. Look at me.”
“What?”
He released an impatient breath. “He needs to believe I am the only one winning your regard, and that you are like a ray of sunshine breaking through on a cloudy day.”
Nina grinned. “Elliot, please tell me you do not win women’s favors with drivel like that.”
He set his palm to his chest and gave a wounded look, yet his blue eyes gleamed with mirth. “I thought it sounded like something Byron might have written.”
She couldn’t help the laugh that worked its way up her throat. “Perhaps when he was drunk.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Victoria asked, catching back up to them.
“Byron,” Elliot replied.
“Byron? Ha! Now I know you two are up to something. I wish to know what.” Victoria gave Elliot a playful push on his shoulder. They had slowed their pace and now trailed behind the others on the path.
Lord Hathaway cleared his throat. “Though an architect designed the Grecian folly, the initial idea of the placement of the Ionic columns was mine.” He puffed out his chest and pointed to a hill above the tree line. In the distance, the domed structure could be seen.
As they continued toward it, Victoria pointed to a bush with a profusion of yellow flowers. “I wonder what type of plant that is.”
“I have a feeling your cousin knows?” Nina glanced at Elliot.
“Do you, cousin?” Victoria’s eyes widened.
“It’s a species of forsythia.”
Nina smiled.
He smiled back.
“What is going on between you two?” With a not so gentle tug on Elliot’s arm, Victoria pulled him to a standstill. “Cousin, I wish to have a word with you.”
Elliot frowned but stopped, leaving Nina to walk alone.
The Duke of Fernbridge turned around. He gave her the broadest smile she’d ever seen the man offer, then strode toward her.
Chapter Twelve
As the Duke of Fernbridge walked toward Nina, anxiousness exploded in her stomach. She started to smile; then, remembering Elliot’s advice not to appear eager to converse with the gentleman, she simply nodded. “Your Grace.”
“Lady Nina.”
She glanced at Elliot and Victoria. Most likely, her friend was conducting an inquisition as to what was going on.
Fernbridge followed her gaze. “They are cousins, are they not?”
“They are.” It wasn’t like her to give such succinct responses. Though not overly chatty, she enjoyed conversing, but she wished to follow Elliot’s advice about acting more indifferent.
“Your brother mentioned you enjoy horseback riding, along with hopping hedges. Perhaps tomorrow morning you and I might tackle some of Hathaway’s hedgerows.”
Goodness, Elliot was a genius. The more indifferent she acted toward the duke, the more he sought her out. “If you wish.”
Victoria and Elliot joined them. A confused expression still clouded Victoria’s face. Obviously, Elliot had not confessed their plan to his cousin.
The two men held each other’s gazes. Elliot was a superb actor. If she didn’t know better, she’d think the duke having joined them truly did agitate him.
Lord Hathaway cleared his throat again and opened his mouth as if he wished to chastise them for lagging. The man’s gaze settled on the Duke of Fernbridge, and he pinched his lips into a firm line. One did not go about chastising dukes.
* * *
Elliot noticed the pleasure in Nina’s eyes. Clearly, Fernbridge had said something that delighted her.
“Shall we say after breakfast?” Fernbridge asked. “Hathaway has some exceptional horseflesh.”
So, he’d asked Nina to go riding with him.
“Yes, that would be lovely.” Nina glanced at him and Victoria. “We are going hedge hopping tomorrow. Would either of you care to join us?”
“Yes, I’ll go,” Elliot replied.
Victoria shook her head. “I like riding, but unlike Nina, I’m not fond of jumping hedges.”
Fernbridge looked over Nina’s head and gave Elliot a deliberate grin. The gauntlet had been thrown.
“Are you going to attempt to draw the temple?” Fernbridge pointed at Nina’s sketchbook.
“Attempt?” Victoria wrapped her arm about Nina’s waist. “Nina is a remarkable artist. If she draws it, it will look like a mirror image.”
The pink on Nina’s cheeks darkened. “Not quite.”
“May I see your drawings?” Elliot asked.
She bit her lower lip and handed him the sketchbook.
As Elliot flipped to the first page, Fernbridge moved closer and peered over Elliot’s shoulder. Several of the sketches were of an extensive garden. One a closeup of a maple leaf. Another of a fountain. The last sketch was of a small cottage-like structure with a stone base and a glass roof. “Where is this?”
“That’s the summer house at our country residence.”
Elliot handed the sketchpad back to Nina. “You’re quite talented.”
“Thank you.” Her gaze briefly shifted to Fernbridge as if waiting for his comment like a hungry beggar waited for the smallest scrap of bread.
For a moment, Elliot wanted her to win the man’s regard. For her to get everything she wanted. If it had been another gentleman—one who Elliot thought would truly love her—he would have given up his plan to win her over, but Fernbridge was a pompous, self-centered idiot if he could not even give Nina a compliment.
If you win her hand, will you be a better husband? He shoved his guilt away. He was a hell of a lot better than the duke. If Nina wished for a true marriage, a faithful marriage, he would give her that. He would do everything in his power to make her happy, whereas Fernbridge appeared too absorbed in himself to notice the desires of those around him.
They continued down the path and reached the top of the hill.
The Temple of Zeus stood around forty feet high. Round with at least twenty Grecian pillars. An impressive structure.
Lord Hathaway smiled proudly as several members gasped with awe.
Fernbridge flashed an unimpressed look at the structure. “The temple on my property is much larger.”
Just like Fernbridge to compare sizes. It made Elliot recall his boyhood days at boarding school when the lads took a gander at each other’s cocks to judge if they possessed any shortcomings.
After they’d toured the structure, several footmen placed blankets on an area of soft grass near the base of the temple. Baskets with sandwiches and fruit were set out, along with bottles of chilled lemonade.
Nina sat on one of the blankets and began sketching.
Elliot strode over to her. “May I join you?”
She glanced at Fernbridge, who chatted with Lord Hathaway. “Yes, of course.”
He sat and leaned back against a tree. In only a few minutes, Nina had outlined the structure’s dimensions. “Why do you wish to marry him?”
The scratch of her pencil moving across the paper stilled for a short moment, then continued. “Doesn’t everyone wish to become a duchess?”
Her response bothered him. Could that be all she wanted in life? Perhaps she deserved to marry Fernbridge. “I don’t believe that’s why you’ve set your sights on him.”
Again, the movement of her hand stilled. “Why?”
“I don’t think you are so shallow. I don’t think you want to sit around reading while your husband enjoys hunting and fishing. I think you want a husband who is passionate. One who will make you feel special. He has as much passion as a block of wood. Marrying a cold fish like Fernbridge would be a grave error.”
Her pencil moved again, sketching the intricate detail of the temple’s roofline. “You shouldn’t be talking to me
of such things.”
He grinned. “Because I’ve touched on a nerve? I think I was correct when I said you wanted to marry him because he is safe. I know Avalon hurt you, but that is no reason to settle for less than you deserve.”
She held his gaze for several heartbeats, then continued working on her drawing.
He expelled a slow breath. “Are you ready to begin our lessons?”
“The Duke of Fernbridge is already showing an interest in getting to know me better. I don’t think they are necessary.”
He said nothing. Waited. She wanted those lessons. He’d seen the curiosity in her eyes. She was so wrong for Fernbridge. A safe, dull life would lead to a dissatisfied life. He’d seen disappointment in his mother’s eyes. He surely didn’t want to see it in Nina’s.
“Do you even know how to kiss?”
Two bright spots colored her cheeks. “Of course, I do.”
He made a sound of disbelief.
She tipped her nose in the air. “If you recall, I was courted last season.” A hurt expression flashed across her face. So brief one could have missed its appearance.
“I heard that Lord Avalon kisses like a wet fish.”
She gave a small laugh. “No, he doesn’t.”
“And that his lips feel like mush and his tongue is like a serpent’s.”
“His tongue?” A small line creased the smooth skin between Nina’s brows. “What does his tongue have to do with kissing?”
Had Avalon kissed her like one would kiss a sister? It appeared so. But he’d heard the earl was in love with his mistress, so . . . “If you do not know, it appears you are truly in dire need of a lesson. The first kiss you share with a man should be something he cannot forget. Something that keeps him awake at night. I’ll come to your room tonight.” He thought she’d say no. He thought she might crack her palm against his cheek.
Instead, she continued sketching and nodded. “Very well. Now go away. You’re ruining my concentration.”
He was going to do more than ruin her concentration. Tonight, he would show Nina what passion was like. What she would be missing if she married such a cold fish.
Chapter Thirteen
As Nina paced back and forth in her bedchamber, she tried to convince herself that she’d only agreed to Elliot’s lesson on kissing for academic reasons. She released a pent-up breath. Who was she kidding? She wanted to know what his lessons would entail. Every time he mentioned them, little sparks of anticipation exploded in her stomach. The same sensation she experienced when a carriage took a turn too fast, or she prompted a horse over an exceedingly tall hedge. Danger and the unknown had always caused a thrill within her.
Over the years, James had called some of her actions reckless.
Her brother was right. Allowing Elliot in her bedchamber to tutor her on the art of kissing proved it.
A memory drifted in her mind. A few months ago, from her bedroom window, she’d spotted Caroline and James kissing on the terrace of their home in Essex. It hadn’t been a quick press of lips but had gone on forever. Feeling like a voyeur, she’d stepped away from the window, feeling rather hot and odd.
A soft knock on her door startled her from her thoughts.
She tugged her over-the-elbow evening gloves up higher and opened the door. Her gaze shifted from Elliot’s blue eyes to his sensual mouth, then to his clothing. Unlike her, he’d removed his evening attire and wore a casual suit and white shirt.
Without uttering a word, she motioned him inside.
He looked at her, then around the bedchamber, and grinned.
Most likely, he found humor in the fact she’d lit every lamp and candle in the room and wrapped her shawl so tight about her upper body she resembled a mummy.
“Thank God the curtains are drawn, or your bedchamber window would be a beacon for ships.”
Warmth flooded her cheeks.
Casually, he walked around the room snuffing out the candles with his thumb and index finger, never flinching as he doused each flame.
Those unsettling sparks exploded in her stomach as the light in the room dimmed. Why did watching him affect her so? Probably because Elliot possessed confidence as he prowled about her bedchamber, while she felt as taut as an over-coiled spring. Why wouldn’t she? It was natural. This was the first time she’d allowed a man into her bedchamber. Whereas, Elliot’s confidence reflected his experience.
Once only the bedside and mantel lamps remained lit, he faced her. He seemed even larger than when he’d entered the room. As if his shoulders had broadened and he’d grown several inches in the span of a few minutes. Surely, it was an illusion brought about by the weak lighting and the fact that his shadow cut across the rug to touch the spot where she stood.
“Are you cold?” His gaze narrowed on the shawl wrapped tightly about her. Without waiting for a response, he strode to the banked fire, removed the brass poker from its stand, and prodded the embers until the fire sprang back to life.
With casual grace, he took several steps, closing the distance between them. His clean, spicy scent filled her nose. Her heartbeat quickened, and she shifted on her feet like a skittish horse.
“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t bite you. Not unless you beg me to.” He grinned.
“You know you are incorrigible.” She should ask him to leave, yet she felt anchored to where she stood. Her gaze shifted from Elliot’s eyes to his mouth, and she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to feel the press of his lips against hers.
“What should I teach you first?”
Everything.
One side of his mouth turned up as if she’d said the single word aloud. But she hadn’t. At times, Elliot appeared capable of reading her thoughts. It had always irritated her, but in this moment in time, she wished he could read every wicked thought in her silly head, so she wouldn’t have to voice them aloud.
His warm fingers brushed against her arms as he unwrapped the shawl from her shoulders and draped it over the back of an upholstered chair.
“I don’t think you need these either,” he said, unfastening the three buttons at the wrist of her left evening glove, then those on the right. The material parted, and he skimmed his thumb over the sensitive skin of her left inner wrist.
The hairs on her nape lifted.
“Now take them off. Slowly.”
“Slowly. Why?”
“Because the removal of a woman’s evening gloves is sensual if done correctly.”
Perhaps she did need lessons. How was removing her gloves sensual? “I don’t understand.”
Without responding, he lifted her hand as if he intended to kiss her gloved fingers.
When his teeth nipped the end of the material at her index finger and tugged, she sucked in a startled breath. He did the same to each finger until her glove dangled off her hand. He slowly tugged it off and let it drop to the rug.
He held her gaze. “Undressing a woman can heighten her anticipation. Undressing for a man can heighten his.”
“But I don’t intend to undress in front of the Duke of Fernbridge.”
“No, but if you are to catch his attention further, your actions must draw his regard. As I said, if done correctly, something as simple as removing an evening glove before dinner can center a man’s attention solely on you.”
She felt self-conscious, but inch by inch, she rolled her other glove down her arm. Her fingers lightly, sensually traced over her skin as she revealed more of it.
As if riveted, Elliot watched. His eyes grew heavy. Was he becoming as aroused as she was? She couldn’t help but ask. “Am I a good student, Elliot?”
“I’ll let you know after we complete our lessons.”
She removed the glove completely and held it between her index finger and thumb before letting it drop to the floor. She’d believed Elliot would smile, but the look in his eyes was so intense she thought it was melting her because wetness settled between her legs.
He set his finger under her chin and brought her gaze to his
. “Now, have you ever kissed a man?”
“You know I have.”
“Yes, but there are different types of kisses. There is the type you give a family member. Then there is nothing more than a light brushing of the lips, and then there are kisses that make you want to act recklessly. What type of kisses did Avalon give you?”
She glanced down at the hem of her gown and the Turkish rug beneath where she stood. Avalon’s kisses had seemed more like the first type. They’d definitely not made her act reckless. Or even made her contemplate acting recklessly.
Without further thought, she got on the tip of her toes and gave Elliot a quick peck on the cheek. “They were like that.”
“Well, thank goodness you didn’t wed the man. That’s utterly shameful. Avalon should be shot.”
Elliot looked so agitated, a laugh bubbled up Nina’s throat, but when he skimmed the tips of his fingers up her arm, her laugh faded, and heat coursed through her body.
“A proper kiss should entail more than a quick press of the lips on one’s cheek.”
“How do I let a man know I wish to be kissed on the lips?”
“There are several signals. The way you look at him. You should hold his gaze but allow your regard to dip to his mouth before returning them to his eyes. If he leans in, tip your face up, and when positive he intends to kiss you, close your eyes.”
She nodded and took a slow breath to calm her nerves. She slowly let her gaze shift from the deep blue of Elliot’s eyes to his mouth, then back to his eyes.
“Well done.” One of his large hands cupped the side of her cheek. The other wrapped around her waist.
The tempo of her heart spiked. Not from fear. No, she wanted to experience this. Worse, she wanted to experience it with Elliot. That knowledge caused her to tense.
“Relax. I assure you this won’t hurt. Not a bit.” He smiled.
She smacked his shoulder. “Get on with it, you scoundrel.”
“I intend to.”
His softly spoken words and the look in his eyes caused her stomach to flutter. “Where do I put my hands?” she asked.
A slow smile turned up his lips. “I don’t believe most men are too particular during a kiss. They’ll be content with your hands on them almost anywhere.”
Never Conspire with a Sinful Baron Page 10