Good Earls Don't Lie

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Good Earls Don't Lie Page 14

by Michelle Willingham


  She did, and promptly shut her eyes again. “You are not dressed, Lord Ashton.”

  “All the important bits are. And it’s not as if you haven’t seen me in this state before.”

  She let out a groan. “Really, now. Must you behave in such a villainous manner?”

  “I would only be a villain if I pulled you from that horse and threw you in the lake.” He had no intention of doing so, but the slight gasp she emitted made it clear that she wasn’t quite so certain.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  He approached the horse while her eyes were still closed and reached up, pulling her down to stand before him. Rose squealed, and tried to fight him, but he held her steady. “Now, a chara, I wouldn’t do such a thing to you.”

  “You took me off the horse.”

  “So I did. You were wanting to walk, were you not?” He kept her standing, knowing full well that his body was still wet from the lake.

  “Your skin is freezing,” she pointed out. “The water was too cold.”

  “It’s England. It will never get warm,” he felt compelled to remind her. And he was accustomed to swimming in frigid water, for it wasn’t at all warm in Ireland, either.

  But the longer he held her waist, the more she had an effect upon him. Her eyes remained closed, her lips slightly parted. Her reddish-brown hair was caught up in a pretty green bonnet, and she wore a riding habit that revealed the dip in her waist and the curve of her hips. Iain kept his arms around her, enjoying the temptation before him. There was no denying that Lady Rose was a stunningly beautiful woman, one he wanted to touch.

  Not yours, he warned himself.

  But she wasn’t fighting his hands upon her waist. And although she gave a slight shiver, she didn’t seem frightened of him.

  “I’m not going to harm you, Lady Rose,” he reminded her. “You can open your eyes.”

  After a moment, she did. “I cannot believe you were swimming naked in the lake. Did you think no one would come along?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t suppose I cared if anyone did.”

  Right now, he was enjoying the feel of this woman in his arms. Her lips were soft, her cheeks blushing at his unclothed state. And though he knew he ought to let her go, he told himself that she would lose her balance if he did.

  She swallowed hard and told him, “You may put me back on my horse now. I’ll return to Penford, and I won’t bother you.”

  “That wasn’t why you came riding out here,” he predicted. “You were thinking of swimming, weren’t you?”

  “I came for the pleasant view. And we both know I cannot swim. Especially not with you.”

  He wasn’t convinced of that, but he wouldn’t press the matter. Instead he lifted her up into his arms and walked toward the large boulders that rested on one edge of the lake. “You can dip your toes into the lake, then. There’s no harm in it.”

  Iain balanced himself carefully as he stepped onto the group of boulders, and chose a spot near the water’s edge. Gently, he lowered Lady Rose to a seated position and then sat beside her.

  “You’re too close to me,” she protested. “Find your own rock.” But there was a hint of amusement in her voice, as if she didn’t truly mean it.

  “I like sharing yours. And besides, if you fall in, I’ll be able to snatch you back out again.”

  “I am not going to fall in the water.” But she did lean back against the largest rock, smiling a little as she untied her bonnet. The ribbons hung down against her bodice, and she adjusted her skirts to hide her ankles.

  He remained beside her, acutely conscious of her body beside his. It was entirely inappropriate for him to be half-clothed and leaning next to her. But she wasn’t protesting anymore. Instead, he caught her stealing a glance at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  “Are you going to put your feet in?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. It would be foolish. Besides that, I’m already breaking too many rules by sitting here alone with you. Though if anyone finds me, I shall claim that I was abducted by a pirate.”

  “And then you would be forced to wed me to save your reputation,” he suggested. “Which is not so very dreadful.”

  “I disagree,” she countered. “You, Lord Ashton, are a very wicked man with no sense of propriety.” But her eyes revealed her amusement.

  “If I worried about what others think, I would not be sitting with a beautiful woman on a sunny day, now, would I?”

  He leaned back with his arms crooked behind his head. He had the feeling that Lady Rose had a rebellious side to her, buried beneath her years of good manners.

  She shook her head and sighed. Then she lifted up one foot and began unbuttoning her shoe. “I must be mad.”

  A rebel indeed. He grinned and helped her with the other shoe, until she was clad in stockings. “No more than I. But it was an invigorating swim.”

  “You ought to put your shirt on,” she reminded him. “Someone will see you and think you are intent on seducing me.”

  “You did accuse me of being a pirate, a chara.” He kept his voice light, but leaned a little closer. “We aren’t known for being gentlemen.”

  In response, Rose dipped her hand into the water and splashed it at his chest. “Then I’ll be forced to defend myself from you.”

  The frigid water spilled down his bare chest, dampening his waistband. Iain rested his arms on either side of her, trapping her against the rock. “Now that wasn’t fair, Lady Rose.”

  Her smile faded instantly. “I was teasing, Lord Ashton.”

  “Were you?” He was feeling rather bold at the moment. He drank in the sight of her—those wide brown eyes, the delicate nose and sweet lips. Her hair was hidden beneath the bonnet, and he took it off, setting it aside. “You don’t need this.”

  “My face will be covered in freckles if I don’t wear it.” But she didn’t appear to mind his interference. And instead of shoving him aside, she was watching him with interest. Sunlight gleamed across her brown hair, revealing the hints of auburn. He leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. Her eyes widened, but she remained fixed upon his face.

  “Did Burkham ever kiss you?”

  “Of course.” Her voice held a hint of panic, but she didn’t pull away.

  He was caught up in the beauty of her. Her breath warmed his mouth, and for a moment, he remained near to her. She was forbidden to him, and he would not intrude where he wasn’t wanted. And yet, every part of him was entranced by her.

  “Tell me to leave you alone,” he said in a low voice.

  But she remained silent. Her hand moved up to touch the roughness of his face, and it only deepened the intimacy. She trailed her fingers upon his jaw, and the simple touch undid him.

  Iain bent and brushed his mouth against hers. It was the barest hint of a kiss, the promise of more if she wanted it.

  He pulled back immediately, searching her expression. He never wanted her to feel threatened by him. “Tell me if you’re wanting me to stop.”

  He leaned in again, nipping at her lips a second time. He waited for a long moment, giving her more than enough time to refuse. She could tell him no at any moment, and he would pull back. Instead, her eyes were wild, as if she didn’t know what to say or do.

  She tasted of summer, a softness and warmth like sunlight. Her eyes were caught up with his, her expression emboldened by a taste of the forbidden.

  Iain bent and claimed her mouth deeply, framing her face with both hands. He didn’t stop kissing her, learning the shape of her mouth and drawing her even closer.

  Rose’s fingers dug into his bare skin, but Lord Ashton’s chest was no longer cold. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel his heart beating faster. Her mind was numb to all this, uncertain of what to do.

  She ought to shove him away, but the moment he kissed her deeply, every rational thought fled her brain. His mouth was sensual and warm, his tongue reaching out to hers. She heard a breathless gasp that came from h
er, and her own heart stuttered in time with his.

  Thomas had never kissed her like this. She’d never known anyone could kiss in this way. With every stroke of his tongue, Iain was pulling apart her good sense, arousing her deeply. Her breasts were erect beneath her shift and corset, while between her legs, she felt a phantom ache.

  My God, the man could kiss. Although it was wrong, she could not bring herself to pull away. Not yet. Instead, she met his kiss with her own, learning what it was to slide her tongue inside his mouth in a daring way.

  The primal groan that resounded from his mouth made him take her harder. He threaded his hands into her hair, kissing her soundly until she was breathless.

  She needed to tell him no, to shove him back. But she was dizzy from his touch, shocked by the sensation of his mouth as he kissed a path down her throat. He tasted her like a starving man, and every part of her yearned for more.

  His hardened muscles were beneath her hands, and she couldn’t remember when she’d taken her gloves off. But the need to touch him, to explore his warm male skin, overrode common sense. She allowed him to pull her so close, her skirts grew tangled up, and she was lying atop him.

  Sweet God above, she could feel the ridge of his arousal. When her hips pressed against his, the aching between her legs made her restless. She was beginning to understand how a woman could fall prey to a man who wanted her.

  His breathing was labored, and when she saw the heated look in his green eyes, she began to come to her senses. She had promised herself that she would go back to London to be with Lord Burkham. Instead, she was kissing another man in Yorkshire. It made no sense at all. What was wrong with her? Why was she allowing herself to fall beneath his spell?

  She never should have come here alone. The moment she’d seen Lord Ashton, she should have left and gone home. The man was not to be trusted.

  She pulled back from Iain and pressed her hand to his mouth. “No. I cannot do this. Please stop.”

  Iain did, but she was well aware of his desire for her. She reached for her shoes, trying to put them on, while her fingers trembled. The buttons wouldn’t work, and her eyes blurred with tears. She didn’t even know why she was starting to cry. She hadn’t betrayed Thomas, since they had never been engaged. What did it matter if she kissed another man?

  It mattered because she’d felt more in Iain’s stolen embrace than Thomas had ever made her feel. And she knew why Iain had kissed her. He needed a bride, and her dowry would indeed be enough to help improve his estate. All he had to do was sympathize with a poor, helpless, crippled woman.

  Her broken pride only made it harder to fight the tears. She fumbled with the buttons until the first shoe was back on. Lord Ashton helped her with the other, but his touch upon her foot was more than she could bear.

  “Please don’t,” she said. Not while she was trying to hold her feelings together.

  She pulled her foot back and reached for the edge of the stone, trying to hoist herself up to a standing position. Even using all her arm strength, it wouldn’t work.

  “Allow me.” Lord Ashton didn’t wait for her to answer, but lifted her back into his arms. He said nothing at all about his actions, but brought her to her waiting mare, placing her on horseback.

  “I won’t apologize for kissing you,” he said at last. He rested his hands upon her mount, his expression serious. “But you should ask yourself if you truly want a man like Burkham after the way he’s neglected you.”

  Or after the way I kissed you, was the unspoken message.

  Rose’s face burned with humiliation. She didn’t know what had possessed her to allow the kiss. But she honestly didn’t know what she wanted right now. When Lord Ashton had looked into her eyes, she had lost sight of all the reasons why it was wrong to let him kiss her. Like a pirate, Iain had taken what he wanted. And she could not deny that she had done nothing to stop him.

  Why? What was the matter with her? She didn’t understand how any of this had happened. This wasn’t the sort of woman she was, to succumb to temptation.

  But it was as if Lord Ashton had awakened her senses, raising questions she didn’t want to face. She’d wanted to believe that once Thomas saw her again, the old feelings would return . . . but what if they didn’t?

  “You startled me, Lord Ashton,” she said, trying to gather herself together. “I apologize if I led you to believe that I wanted you to kiss me. I hope we can return to our friendship with no harm done.”

  He said nothing, but his thumb stroked her palm. The gesture echoed deep within her very skin, reminding her of the shocking feelings.

  And when she rode back to Penford, she was only too aware of her bruised lips and the pounding of her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  Iain had been invited to join Lady Penford for tea, along with her mother. But before he could enter the drawing room, Calvert barred the way. It was irritating the way the footman took it upon himself to guard the women.

  “You, sir, are a foul villain. After what you did to poor Lady Rose . . .” The man’s face was nearly purple with outrage.

  Iain had no idea how to respond to that, for there was no way to know what Rose had said. Instead, he remarked, “And just what am I accused of this time?”

  “I saw her when she returned from her morning ride. She was most distraught, and I have no doubt that you were the cause of it.”

  He supposed, in this instance, the footman was correct in his assumption. And truly, the man’s loyalty could not be faulted.

  Iain ignored Calvert’s remark and said, “The ladies are expecting me at tea. Kindly let me pass.”

  When the footman did not move, Iain added, “Though I am certain you believe you are guarding Lady Rose, I am no threat to her. Leave both of us alone, or I’ll be forced to inform Lady Wolcroft of your interference.”

  The footman scowled, but was wise enough to retreat. When Iain entered the drawing room, he found Lady Penford standing beside the window. She wore a lopsided crown of yellow daffodils over her tangled, unbound hair. At the moment, the matron appeared to be in a state of childish joy.

  “Come and see!” she blurted out with no greeting.

  Iain crossed the room and stood beside her. Outside, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was likely that she was caught up in another of her spells. “What is it?”

  She pointed to one of the hedges. “Look, just there. Do you see the bird’s nest?”

  He peered closer at the greenery but saw nothing at all. “I’m afraid I don’t, Lady Penford.”

  Her expression grew wistful. “They must all leave the nest, I fear. And sometimes their mother has to give them a push.” She glanced back at him, and a daffodil slid over one eye.

  He asked, “May I?” before he adjusted the crown. “Were you outside in the garden this morning?”

  She nodded. “My husband, Lord Penford, used to bring me flowers every day. I do miss him.”

  “These are cheerful,” he admitted. “Did you make the crown yourself?”

  “I did.” With a rueful smile, she confessed, “I used to make them when I was a girl. I was merely giving into an impulse, though I suppose I must seem like a foolish old woman.”

  Ian didn’t think there was any harm in it. “My sister, Sybil, used to tell me that when she grew old, she would wear whatever she liked, and devil take the consequences.” He recalled that on Sybil’s fifteenth birthday, she had worn her favorite ball gown inside the house, just because it made her smile. “If you want to wear a daffodil crown, I say you should.”

  Her face brightened, and she took his hand in hers. “You are a kind young man. Your mother must be very proud of you.”

  My mother loathes the sight of me, he thought, but didn’t say so. In many ways, Lady Penford had treated him more like a son than Moira ever had. She took his arm and led him back to the sitting area, patting his hand as they walked. He helped her sit down on a gilded chair. Since they were alone, he decided to broach a different subject.
“What are your thoughts on finding Rose a husband? She said something about a Lord Burkham.”

  Her smile faded. “The viscount is not right for Rose.” With a dismissive gesture, she added, “He would bore her within a year.”

  Good, Iain thought. He was glad to hear it. Though he supposed he had no right to feel possessive of Rose, he couldn’t deny that her kiss had affected him. It had been an impulse, misguided by the need to touch a beautiful woman. The moment he’d tasted her lips, he’d known how forbidden this was. And perhaps that was why the memory lingered.

  But more than that, he liked Rose. She had wit and humor that made her easy to be around. He genuinely wanted to help her walk again, though he knew how difficult it would be. Every time she stood, her face brightened with such joy and wonder, he felt the echo of pride in her accomplishment. Being around her made him feel that he could have a purpose, and she had never once made him feel inferior.

  “What about you?” Lady Penford was asking. “What sort of bride are you hoping to find in London?”

  Her question caught him off guard. He didn’t quite know how to answer it, and finally said, “Whichever woman will have me, I suppose. I cannot say that I’m much of a catch.”

  “In that you’re wrong, Lord Ashton.” Lady Penford smiled warmly and plucked one of the daffodils from her crown. “You are handsome and kind. Any woman would be glad to wed a gentleman like you.” She snapped the stem and gave it to him.

  He tucked it into his buttonhole. “Even Lady Rose?” Though he’d meant the remark in teasing, the truth was, he did admire the young woman.

  But Lady Penford seemed taken aback by the idea. “Why, you hardly know one another. You only just met a few days ago.”

  No longer did the matron appear to be an ally. Instead, she appeared every bit the protective mother. “No, I would not want Rose so very far away in Ireland. Especially with her difficulty in walking.”

  She sighed, and her mind wandered back to another topic. “I wish you could see the bird’s nest. The babies have only just hatched, and their mother is looking after them.”

 

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