He obeyed, but instead of gazing into the garden, he stared at her face. “You’ve no reason to be afraid of me, Rose.”
Which wasn’t true at all. She could still remember the temptation of his mouth and the way he’d conjured up a deep response. She wasn’t afraid of him—she was afraid of herself and the way he made her feel.
Desperately, she attempted to change the subject. “Let us begin speaking of the proper way to arrive at a ballroom.”
“If we must.” Iain sat down beside her and began removing his own shoes and stockings.
She blinked a moment and asked, “What exactly are you doing, Lord Ashton?”
“Joining you.” With his trousers rolled up to his knees, he slid his own feet into the water. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that’s cold enough to freeze the teats off a witch.”
She grimaced at his raw speech. “Well, that’s . . . not quite the way I would have described it. And you cannot speak in such a manner when we reach London.”
He moved his feet in the water and shrugged. “You think I will shock the ladies with my manners.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “You must behave with the utmost propriety. Else mothers will allow you nowhere near their daughters.”
“I’m not concerned about my bride’s mother. Only her.” He stood in the pool of water, and it came up to his knees.
“If you do not win her mother’s approval, nothing else matters. She won’t let you speak to her daughter.” Although Rose had a feeling that a besotted young woman might indeed rebel against her parents. Lord Ashton was entirely too persuasive.
His mouth curved in a knowing smile. “Is that so?”
“It is.” Her thoughts were scattering like dandelion seeds on the wind, so she began blurting out instructions. His hair was still rumpled and a little too long to be fashionable, but she had no doubt that every unmarried woman would try to catch his eye.
“When you meet the young ladies, be mysterious,” she suggested. “Do not tell them anything about your poverty. For now, you are trying to attract possible heiresses, and the less they know about you, the better.”
She lowered her legs deeper into the small pool, until the water rose up to her knees. Again, she moved her legs rapidly, attempting to strengthen them.
“Will I be expected to dance with the ladies?” he inquired. “And only once, I presume?”
“Yes.” With a slight frown, she murmured, “You do know how to dance, don’t you?”
A slight smile played at his mouth. “I do. That was something my brother insisted that I learn. If he had to suffer, then so would I.”
That, at least, made it easier. She began talking more about the balls, explaining how to be introduced properly to young ladies and how to maintain good manners.
“You should have supper with my grandmother and me tonight,” she said suddenly. Though she had not noticed anything out of the ordinary with his table manners, she wanted to ensure that he knew about the proper silver to use and what to expect at supper parties regarding conversation.
“I should be glad to dine with you, a chara.” He glanced over at her feet and added, “Aren’t your legs getting cold? Would you like me to warm them?”
“They are cold, yes. I should probably go back to the house.” She eased herself out of the water, immediately folding her gown over her bare legs. From the way Lord Ashton was studying her, she felt her cheeks flush. “I hope my advice regarding London was helpful to you.”
He inclined his head. “If I can remember all of it, I’m certain it will be.” Then he stood and reached down to help her stand. She gripped his hands and managed to rise. Beneath her gown, her legs trembled from the cold. She wiped her feet against the grass, trying to dry them.
“Before you go, I’ve another idea,” Lord Ashton said. “Put your feet atop mine.”
She frowned, wondering if he intended to walk with her. “No, thank you. We’re both barefoot and it would not be right.”
“Then how will I know if I was taught properly how to dance?” He kept her hands gripped in his.
She eyed him with wariness. “I cannot dance, and you know this.”
In response, Iain lifted her off the ground. He rested his grip beneath her hips so that she looked down on him. “Aye, you can.”
She was startled by the sudden motion and blurted out, “This is not how we dance in London, Lord Ashton.”
“It isn’t?” He opened his mouth as if stunned, and she raised an eyebrow at him. “You can’t be telling me the truth. After all those years of suffering through dance lessons with Michael?”
His teasing lightened her mood, and she nodded. “I’m afraid so. Whoever taught you to dance in Ireland was completely wrong.” She offered a sympathetic smile. “We are much more formal here.”
“My apologies, Lady Rose.” Iain lowered her to stand, and as she slid down his hardened body, the closeness unnerved her. He was strong, his body made up of rigid planes and angles. He slid his arm around her waist and took her other hand in his. “I think you should be teaching me how to dance properly.”
His palm was warm against hers, and he stood watching her. Those green eyes were the devil’s lure, beckoning her toward temptation. “That was our agreement, wasn’t it? You were going to prepare me for the dangers of London society.”
“I am not ready to dance yet.” She didn’t feel at all ready to attempt it, even resting her feet upon his. And if she was honest, that was what made her uneasy. She didn’t want the intimacy of his skin beneath hers.
“Try.” He leaned closer, and in his eyes, she saw friendliness and encouragement. “Or are you afraid I’ll step upon your toes?”
“I would be stepping upon yours. And I do not think you wish to have them crushed. You would be hobbling for weeks.” She gave an apologetic smile. “It would be best if we stop for now.”
“Not yet.”
Rose could feel the warmth of his breath against her face, and his hand moved to her waist, lightly resting there. She couldn’t help but enjoy the heat of his touch. And instead of needing to pull away, she allowed him to continue.
“Put your feet upon mine.”
She hesitated, but obeyed. Her feet were still cold from the water, and the moment she stepped upon his, she let out a half shriek. “Your feet are freezing!”
“And now you know my true reason for wanting to dance. You can warm my feet.”
“It’s like standing upon ice.” She wanted to step off, but he began moving, forcing her to dance with him.
As he took her in a slow waltz, she felt reckless in his arms. It did feel almost like dancing, and she couldn’t hold back her smile. “My grandmother would be appalled if she could see me right now.”
“I would think she’d be glad to see you dance.”
“I’m not dancing. Not truly.” But for a moment, it was good to imagine it. Perhaps in a few more months it might happen.
“This is another way for you to move your legs,” he said. “They will get stronger if you dance with me.”
She hadn’t truly considered that, but he was right. And it was more enjoyable than she’d thought it would be.
“Next time, you should wear shoes,” she advised. “I will do the same.”
He inclined his head and spun her around again. All around her, the sunlight warmed her skin, and she caught the faint fragrance of flowers. “Do you suppose your parents danced in this garden?”
“I don’t know. But perhaps.”
He slowed his pace, watching her closely. “Am I dancing like a proper English gentleman?”
“You are, yes. There’s nothing to fear on that account.”
Again, he took her across the garden, spinning her in the waltz. She was conscious of his hands on her waist and the way he was watching her.
“Are you growing tired?” he asked.
She was slightly out of breath, but it had felt so good to feel normal for a few moments, she didn’t care. “A little.”
She met his gaze and smiled. “I should want you to stop. But it has been so very long since I’ve danced. You found a weakness of mine.”
He kept moving her, though he held back on the pace. His left hand drew her slightly closer, until they were now in an embrace. Though he continued to dance with her, she was well aware of how close they were.
He said nothing, but the unspoken words slipped beneath her defenses. She knew that he was interested in her, and he made no secret of it. What she didn’t understand was why he had such an effect upon her.
“Lord Ashton, we should stop now.” Her words were the barest whisper, for she no longer trusted herself. She was entranced by his handsome face and the way he was watching her now. If she lifted her mouth even the slightest fraction, she would be kissing him again.
He drew his hand over the line of her jaw and tipped her chin up. “Here, in this place, you will call me Iain. And I intend to call you Rose.”
She was trembling in his arms, feeling so lost. When he slid his hands into her hair, holding her imprisoned, she tried to look away.
“What are you afraid of, a chara? I would never hurt you.”
No, she knew that. But when she was in Lord Ashton’s arms, she felt more alive, in a way she’d never before experienced. In hardly more than a fortnight, he’d taken apart her illusions, making her question the feelings she’d held for the viscount.
“Nothing,” she lied. The truth was, the earl had made her doubt Lord Burkham’s intentions, making her wonder if he’d ever cared for her at all. She had told herself that the six letters were a sign of interest and caring. But now, she wasn’t so certain.
“Don’t be looking at me like that, Lady Rose,” he warned. His eyes had grown hooded, and he moved his hands around her in a true embrace. The warmth of his arms enfolded her, making her feel safe.
“Like what?” Her breathing had shifted and was unsteady, her skin sensitive beneath the fabric of her gown. Though she was trying to behave as if nothing were wrong, her good sense was disappearing before her eyes. She was standing in a beautiful garden, locked away from the world in the arms of a handsome Irishman. If she had never met Thomas, undoubtedly this man would have caused her heart to flutter.
Or pound against her chest, as it was currently doing.
“Take a step back, Lady Rose,” he warned. “Or I’ll not be responsible for the consequences.” Rose lifted her eyes to his and there was no denying the desire in them. He was giving her the opportunity to raise boundaries between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She was lost in his gaze, feeling her own forbidden answer. In this place, there was no one to see. No one to tell her how wrong it was.
And when he leaned down to kiss her, she didn’t pull away. His mouth assaulted hers with tenderness, flooding her with sensation. Her bare feet rested upon the grass while she clung to him for balance. His breath held the hint of tea, and the kiss became an awakening. It drew out the wilder side of herself, making her yearn for more.
Beneath the onslaught of sensation, she had no choice but to return the kiss. His hands moved over her spine, drawing her so close, their hips touched again. The swell of his manhood rested against her stomach, and she grew fearful of the arousal he’d conjured. She could imagine Iain laying her down against the grass, removing the layers of clothing until they were flesh to flesh. The heat of sin burned through her with reckless intensity.
God help her, she was caught up in his spell, while he drew her ever closer to the forbidden edge of desire. Tell him to stop, her brain urged her. But her body silenced her mind, so drawn by his touch.
Iain moved his hand over her bottom, lifting one hip until her leg was raised. Caught up against him, she had to wrap her arms around his neck. Though she knew it was wrong, she didn’t push him back.
Her lips were swollen, deliciously bruised as his tongue entered her mouth. He stroked her, even as he moved his hardened length against her. She grew utterly wet beneath her petticoats, breathless at the pressure between her legs. Her breasts were tight against her chemise and corset, straining for more.
“Tell me to stop, Rose,” he murmured.
Her brain was disconnected from reality, and she struggled to find her sense of reason. “I-y-yes, you must.”
With his arm around her waist and hers around his neck, she felt her breath catch. He was staring at her like a man bent upon seduction. “Don’t go back to the viscount,” he said quietly.
Lord Ashton traced the edge of her cheek with his thumb. A thousand sensations spiraled through her, and she took a step backward.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” she told him. “It—it was wrong of me.” He was making her nervous with the way he was watching her.
“No, it wasn’t.”
Again, he took another step forward, and she drew away. Only to suddenly become aware of what she’d done. She froze in place, both terrified and stunned that she had taken a step backward. “Iain?”
His sudden smile was blinding, and he held her hands in his. “You’ve already taken the first steps, a chara. Without even realizing it.”
She had. For the first time in months, she’d managed to take two steps. Unbidden came the tears over her cheeks, while a shaky smile broke through. “I don’t even know how this happened.”
Lord Ashton shook his head. “I can’t say how it did. But I watched you take two steps away from me.”
Certainly, it was because he’d embarrassed her, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Joy flooded through her.
“Can you take a step toward me?” he asked.
She sent him a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure I should. Especially with the way you’re looking at me now.”
A knowing grin slid over his face. “And how am I looking at you?”
“Like I’m a slice of cake.” She sent him a wry look, but he only appeared amused by her observation.
“Perhaps I was wanting another taste of you.” He reached out to her shoulders, and she laughed at him.
“Oh, no.” At that, she took a step away, suddenly realizing why he was teasing her. “Is this a ruse, meant to make me run away from you?” She faltered but took another step. Her body swayed out of balance, but with her bare feet upon the grass, it was easier to steady herself.
“Is it working, then?” Iain reached out to her, pretending that he wanted to snatch her back into an embrace.
“Yes.” Rose stopped walking and gave up trying to hold back her tears of happiness. She didn’t care if she was sobbing like a small child. These first few steps were nothing short of miraculous. Her cheeks were wet, but she was smiling so hard, they ached.
Iain closed the distance and brought her back into his arms, holding her tightly. She no longer cared, but dampened the front of his shirt with her tears. He rubbed her spine, his arm around her waist. “Don’t cry, a ghrá. Else, I’ll have to kiss your tears away.”
She wiped at her eyes, and a laugh broke free. “Then I suppose I’ll have to run.”
Chapter Eleven
“Lord Ashton, you have a visitor.” Fulton stood at the doorway to the dining room, where Iain was about to have supper with Lady Rose, her mother, and Lady Lily. They had not yet served the first course, and Iain stole a look at Rose to determine the proper answer.
Before she could answer, Fulton continued, “I realize that it is past the time for callers, but this visitor claims to be one of your missing servants.”
Iain’s mood darkened at the sudden news. He had a feeling he knew exactly who this “visitor” was. Immediately, he stood from the table. “Ladies, please forgive me, but I will return shortly.”
“Is anything the matter, Fulton?” Rose asked.
The butler shrugged. “That, I cannot say. All I know is that the man insisted on seeing Lord Ashton. I thought it best, in case there was news from his family.”
Iain
rather doubted it. He’d believed that all his servants had abandoned him here. Why then, would one return to speak with him? There was more that he needed to understand, and he could not risk Rose and her family overhearing any of this conversation.
“I will meet with him outside,” Iain informed Fulton.
“That isn’t necessary—” Rose began to argue, but he only bowed to the ladies and hurried out. He strode into the hall and saw Niall waiting.
His gut tightened with suspicion, though the man stood with a bright smile on his face. He started to come forward to greet him, but Iain stopped him with a hand. “We will talk outside.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but beckoned for Niall to follow him out the front door. Once they had gone down the stairs, he led them across the gravel driveway, turning toward the garden. He never looked back at the man, but heard Niall’s light footsteps behind him. Within a few minutes, Iain reached the boxwood maze, and entered it, going deeper into the hedges until they were hidden from everyone else.
“Where have you been?” Iain demanded. “I thought you and the others were going to repair the coach and join me here.”
His former footman crossed his arms and leaned back against one of the hedges. There was an unreadable expression on his face, as if he were trying to decide what to say.
“You weren’t coming back, were you?” Iain surmised. “You used me for passage here, and you never intended to work for me.”
“Aye,” the man admitted. Yet there was no trace of remorse on his face—only weariness. “I thought I’d be finding work here and then send for my wife and children later. But no one wants to hire the Irish. There are too many of us.”
“Why would you think I’d want to take you back now?” Iain shook his head. “You made your choice when you left. And you sold my belongings off for three pounds.” He saw no need to keep a footman who had been disloyal.
The man removed his hat and twisted it. “It wasn’t a choice, my lord. Not really. I had no money for food, and no one would let me work.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “But I’ve family waiting on me to send them money.”
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