A Kiss at Mistletoe: Kiss the Wallflower, Book 2

by Gill, Tamara

  Certainly the duke’s shoulders were wider than Lord Weston’s, and his legs seemed quite muscular between her own. The thought brought awareness as to how they were sitting. She on top of his lap, her skirts hiked up about her waist and a…what was that hard bulge near her inner thigh?

  She gasped and their gazes locked. Mumbling a curse, one she heard as clear as day, the duke ripped them apart, the lace ribbon now an ornament upon his own button before he picked her up and deposited her on the floor beside him.

  He stood, his back to her as he adjusted his clothing. Mary could do little but stare at his back, the view from down on the floor giving her the perfect location to study the duke’s other assets, like his bottom.

  His Grace turned, the muscle in his jaw flexing when he caught her ogling his person. Instead of turning from her in disgust, he reached out a hand to help her up. “In a rush, Lady Mary?”

  All thoughts of Lord Weston fled from her mind after being entwined with the duke, and she gaped at him a moment trying to remember what her flight into the conservatory was about.

  And then she remembered. Her first kiss. Or, perhaps she ought to remember it by the first bloody lip she’d given a gentleman with her own mouth.

  “I apologize again, your grace. I needed to be alone and didn’t expect to find anyone in this part of the house.”

  He studied her, his brow furrowed. “Is something amiss? You look as if you’ve been crying.”

  She swallowed, shame washing over her in spades. Mary looked down at her feet, working her hands before her. “I made a mistake that I cannot take back and now I’ll never be able to face a certain person ever again.” Very well, it may have been a little over-dramatic, but the thought of what she’d done, of how Lord Weston had reacted, it certainly felt as though her life would never be the same. If only she’d not tried to kiss him. What had she been thinking!

  His warm hand clasped her elbow and he led her into the conservatory. “Come and sit. I know we do not know each other well, and maybe that will make it easier to unburden yourself.”

  She sat on the cold marble seat and went to pull her shawl about her arms, only to find it missing. She looked back out into the hall where she had collided with the duke and spied it on the floor.

  “Are you sure you wish to hear about my antics, your grace?” she said, huddling a little into herself, the room chilly in the night air. The duke shuffled off his coat and slipped it about her shoulders. His heat engulfed her, settling about her a notion of calm.

  “Of course I’ll listen to you. Whatever you have to say.”

  Mary bit her lip, reminded of what had happened with Lord Weston. The words spilled from her over what she’d done and how his lordship had reacted. Why she was telling his grace this information she did not know or understand, but his offering to hear her concerns were kindly meant and he was Peter’s friend after all. Peter would never be close with anyone if they did not have his trust. And heaven helped her, she desperately wanted to tell someone about what happened. “Lord Weston looked at me as if I’d grown two heads,” she continued. “I know I’m not as fashionable as other women in Town.” She gestured to her dress and the duke looked her over, pity entering his gray orbs. “I’m opinionated and perhaps a little wild. I ran into you and entangled myself in your buttons. But my parents are adamant I marry, and I worry that I’ll make the wrong choice. I do not wish to be trapped in an unhappy union.” She looked up at him and held his gaze. “Please tell me not all gentlemen are looking for simpering debutantes with no voice.”

  Dale stared at Lady Mary, utterly enthralled by her zest to make men see women, women such as herself more than the fripperies their mamas dressed them up in. To admire women who were educated and opinionated. Dale could admit that he might be a little biased against such features. He could only assume because his mother had been such a woman, and it had always brought out the worst in his father.

  Dale sighed, patting her hand in comfort. “Unfortunately, Lady Mary, men are not always that bright of mind.” He certainly was not. “Having a sister of my own, I’ve come to realize that the female sex is more often than not more calm and thoughtful toward others. Of course you get some degree to all sexes that are not so, and you’re not different.”

  She threw him a cautious smile and he noticed her dark, long eyelashes. Not to mention in the scuffle in the hall, her hair had come loose of some of the pins and cascaded over her delicate shoulders. His gaze shifted lower at he drank in the bountiful breasts that sat hidden beneath the ribbons and lace.

  That he knew what she felt like in his arms also did not help his constitution.

  “How will I ever face him again? I’m mortified.”

  Dale placed his arm about her shoulders, rubbing her arm in comfort. “You will face him like you would anyone. You will raise your chin and think no more of it. We’ve all made mistakes such as the one you made today. Laugh it off and forget about it. It was only a kiss after all.”

  He looked over to a potted rose across from them, but all he could smell was Lady Mary and the sweet scent of jasmine.

  “He’s so very well received in Town. He’ll never speak to me again, he’ll probably laugh at me and call me a silly child who needs to grow up.”

  “Are you?” Dale asked, meeting her gaze when she glanced at him.

  “Am I what?” she asked, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  “A silly chit who needs to grow up?”

  She pulled back a little, clearly affronted. “Of course not!”

  He shrugged. “Well then, you have nothing to worry about.”

  She sighed, her breasts rising at the action. He tore his gaze away, concentrating on the plants about him. “I don’t know how to be fashionable and worldly. I’m simply too rough about the edges to ever change, I believe. I don’t particularly want a husband, but if I do have to marry, Lord Weston does suit my requirements. He’s our neighbor and we’ve known him for years, so he knows me very well. Knows that I’m too set in my ways now to change. You see, your grace,” she said, sitting back. “I like to experience all things. To be well versed in life. We must read, love, laugh and play. Swim, fish, dance and…”

  Dale removed his arm and watched her patiently. “Kiss,” he ventured, inexplicably entranced by her. He watched her, the line of her neck as she glanced up at the glass roof, looking at the stars beyond.

  “And kiss,” she whispered, longing echoing in her voice.

  Her eyes met his and a heady, dark emotion swirled inside Dale. This girl, woman, he should amend was dangerous to men like him. Such little temptresses made them want things they would otherwise steer clear of.

  He sighed, studying her a moment. As much as he disliked Lord Weston, if that was whom Lady Mary thought would suit her temperament and character, who was he to naysay her? “I’ll tell you what, Lady Mary. Do you want me to help you regain your Lord Weston and have him eating out of your hand like a puppy for the remainder of this house party?”

  Her eyes brightened, making her more beautiful than he thought possible. Damn it all to hell he didn’t need to think of her in such a way. He cleared his throat. “I will give you one piece of advice, and you must follow it. To the letter.” Dale paused, looking down his nose at her. “Are we in agreement.”

  “Oh yes.” She nodded eagerly, which jiggled her breasts in his peripheral vision. Dear Lord in heaven he was in hell.

  “I would suggest you be honest with Lord Weston. If you think he suits you, then let him know that you’re open to courtship. Be flirty, charming, and honest with him. Forget about the kiss, his reaction, all of it. Lift that pretty face of yours and look him in the eyes, be bold and forthright. Talk of more than the weather, discuss what you enjoy, what you love to do, and if he is not a fool, he will fall at your feet. I promise you that.”

  “Is that what you like, your grace?” she asked.

  Dale started at her question before he stood, needing to distance himself. “I resp
ect honesty above everything else.”

  “Thank you, your grace,” she said, standing. “My brother normally has good sense and I see he had the good sense to befriend you. You’re an honorable man.” She held out her gloved hand and he reached for it, bringing it to his lips and bowing over it slightly.

  “Good luck, Lady Mary and may the man who deserves you win.”

  She threw him a dazzling smile, striding to where they had clashed, swooping up her shawl, she glanced back at him one last time before she was gone. He smiled after her, shaking his head in amusement. This country retreat had just become more interesting. Now he could sit back and watch the games unfold. Or at least, the one Lady Mary was playing.

  Chapter 5

  Mary spent the following day adjusting all her gowns. She would not wait until next Season as discussed with her father, she would alter the dresses she wore now to suit her better. Mary tore at lace and ribbons, lowered her necklines and removed any sort of frippery that decorated her dresses. Underneath all the accessories, her dresses were handsome enough and would do before she could order a new wardrobe next Season.

  Mary assessed her handiwork, unable to fathom why she’d allowed the hideous adornments for so long.

  Tonight she would put into place the recommendation the Duke of Carlton had suggested to her. She would be feminine but intelligent with conversations that were worthy of discussion amongst the opposite sex. She would laugh in a sultry manner, but remain ladylike, show interest in the opposite sex, instead of indifference like she’d always done before. That, along with her own modifications, namely her clothing and hair would give her an idea of how she would go when back in London. Mary had also gone as far as to ask her mother’s lady’s maid to style her hair in a more modern style, some tendrils falling softly about her face and making her look more worldly than a country lady. All that was left for her to do was dress.

  There was a quick knock on the door before her friend Louise bustled into the room. Louise was already dressed for dinner and she looked lovely as usual with her petite frame and pretty smile.

  Louise stopped inside the door, shutting it behind her. “Oh, Mary, your hair looks marvelous. So much more elegant and suitable for your age.”

  Her maid blushed, clearly pleased with herself and Mary smiled. “I cannot thank you both enough for helping me today with everything that I asked. I should have acted before now regarding my gowns instead of thinking of mother’s feelings. I wasn’t actively seeking a husband before though, and so didn’t see the point. But if I am to marry as my father has stated, I need to be more amenable and willing to talk to gentlemen, open and honestly. If I am more willing, maybe I will find someone who will suit my character better.” The more Mary thought about this, the more it made sense to her. Instead of dismissing, but engaging, she might find a gentleman who would allow her pursuits to continue and the marriage would be a happy one for both involved.

  Louise nodded. “It is certainly worth a try. There are marriages made within the ton which are grand love matches all the time. There is no reason why yours will not be.”

  “Like who?” Mary asked, lifting her arms so her maid could help her into her gown.

  Louise blinked, biting her lip. “Well…I cannot remember at the moment, but I’m sure there are such couples.”

  Mary stifled a laugh. “In any case, we had better finish getting dressed for dinner, there is still much to be done.”

  After much cutting and re-stitching, the dress Mary wore tonight was the most revealing she’d ever worn. The sapphire silk set off her dark hair and sun-kissed skin. There were no bows or ribbons, no gaudy lace or high necklines, this gown was simple yet fashionable. Simply perfect for her first night in proving that although she might like the outdoors, fishing, and shooting, swimming in the summer, that did not mean she could not also be a lady.

  She stood before the cheval mirror, taking in her appearance. To finish off her ensemble her maid placed a small sapphire that hung from a delicate gold chain about her neck. The final piece of her transformation. Mary smiled, not recognizing the woman staring back at her. She looked completely different and yet the girl gazing back was also the same. And she liked what she saw.

  “You look beautiful,” Louise said, coming up behind her and catching her eye in the mirror.

  Nerves fluttered in Mary’s stomach and nodded, raising her chin, ready to face her future. “I think this will do well enough.”

  Dale stood conversing with Lady Hectorville who had cornered him the moment he came downstairs. Her whispered words and sultry tone had worked on him once, on a night he had been in his cups and not himself. Her seduction that evening had worked, but not this night. Not ever again.

  Why her ladyship continued to seek him out for bed sport baffled him, and in truth had started to become a nuisance.

  Did she not have better things to do with her time? The woman really needed a hobby. If she didn’t find something other than men to occupy her time, she’d soon end up with syphilis.

  The door to the front reception room where everyone was gathered before dinner opened, and Dale glanced toward the new arrivals. Taking a sip of his whisky, he coughed, choking on his drink at the sight of Lady Mary. Lady Hectorville glanced at him sharply and he cleared his throat, schooling his features into a mask of indifference.

  But boredom was the least of his emotions at that moment. Like a moth to a flame, so too was Dale’s attention riveted on her. Lady Mary greeted her mama, curtsying and smiling as her mother gushed over her daughter’s stunning appearance. Minus the lace and bows that normally adorned her gowns, but something else was different too. Her hair had been styled to better suit her age, and gave one the opportunity to admire her lovely neck.

  “She is very beautiful tonight. I did say to Lady Lancaster that she should allow Mary to wear clothes that were more fashionable and popular among the young set, but my friend is so set in her ways. But la, look at Mary now. A woman, not a young girl in braids anymore,” Lady Hectorville said.

  That was certainly true. The bountiful décolletage was proof of that. And she was only five years younger than himself, not an old maid at all. If she were to attend London next year wearing such gowns she would find a husband soon enough.

  The thought left him cold and he took a sip of his whisky, tearing his regard from the delectable little morsel. A hot, and urgent need sat heavy in his gut and he took a few calming breaths. Remember she is not for you. And while he knew it, Dale still allowed his gaze to return to her and to bask in the idea, just for a moment, what it would be like to kiss her…and perhaps have her lips curve in that pretty smile just for him. To date he’d yet to find a lady who made him want to give up his more sensual pursuits and settle into domesticity. But the desire coursing through his veins now made him really look at Lady Mary. Dale frowned. She was fire…and fire with fire was never a good combination. No…for whenever he decided to take the plunge into matrimony, it must be a lady of cool demureness. With admirable willpower he tore his stare from her.

  Huffing out a disgruntled breath, Lady Hectorville flounced off. He glanced to his side as the sweet scent of roses caught his attention and his lips twitched into a grin. “Good evening, Lady Mary. You look very fetching tonight, although I think you’re already aware of that.”

  She grinned mischievously, taking a glass of wine from a footman who bowed before her. “I am being more practical in my choosing of a husband and will take heed of your advice and be more personable, more interested, but I also needed to make a few changes myself.” She glanced down at her gown and drew his attention there also. “I shall have Mama purchase a new wardrobe next year, but the alterations to my gowns I have made today will do well enough until then.”

  His gaze moved over her, taking in the narrowing of her waist beneath the silk dress. She was very fetching in it. The empire cut suited her body shape, and Dale couldn’t help but wonder if her hips were as bountiful as her breasts.


  Dale took another sip of his whisky and mortifyingly found it empty. She chuckled and he knew she’d seen his lapse in concentration.

  “Let me get you another.” She waved a footman over.

  “Thank you,” he said, heat flaming his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “So, you’re going to take heed of some of my recommendations. I do hope you find them beneficial.”

  She bit her lip and he ground his teeth. A woman who was utterly clueless that she was charming was nothing short of dangerous. “Well, I think what you said made sense. If I can hold an intelligent conversation with a man perhaps I’ll like him enough to allow him to court me. As much as I’d love to keep escaping the marriage trap, I know I cannot do so forever,” she whispered, leaning close to him and giving him a good view of her bust and the white chemise that sat against her skin.

  Damn she was the sweetest thing he wanted to taste, savor and enjoy every ounce of her.

  “Lord Weston has not brought up my lapse in conduct since it occurred. I’m glad we’ve been able to get along just as we ever have.”

  Dale narrowed his eyes at her tone that although determined, did hold an edge of longing to it. “Is Lord Weston a gentleman whom you would consider a possible suitor?” Dale turned and watched the viscount, dismissing him as a scoundrel and a vain one at that. Certainly not worthy of a free spirit like the intelligent Lady Mary.

  She lifted her face and gave him her profile as she glanced across the room to where Lord Weston stood talking to Lady Hectorville. Her ladyship all but hanging off the young lord’s every word. His lordship eating up the attention like a glutton.

  “Father and mama would certainly approve, and as I said, he’s our neighbor. I would not have to move out of the county and I would be close to home. But I promise I will not rush into anything that I’m not certain of. After five Seasons in Town, you must believe that of me, if nothing else.”