Stealing a Rogue's Kiss (Connected by a Kiss Book 4)

by Amanda Mariel

“You cannot start to tell me something then leave me without all of the details. It’s not fair.” He drummed his fingers on the counter as he stared at her.

  “Very well. I was remembering a conversation we had in our youth.” A pink tint crept into her cheeks.

  Marcus grinned with amusement. “We shared many conversations back then. Which one are you referring to?”

  Daphne fidgeted with the lace of her dressing gown. “Do you remember the deal we made? The one regarding a kiss?”

  Marcus searched the recesses of his mind, reaching deep for the long-ago memory. He and Daphne had tired from law bowls and sat beside each other on a log near where they'd been playing. As Natalie, Bradford, Grayson, and Pippa continued the game, he and Daphne talked of the future. He had come home from Eaton for a break and Daphne's family was visiting Harington Gardens. Daphne was sixteen and he eighteen at the time.

  Her words came back to him as the scene played through his mind.

  “Have you ever kissed a lady?” Daphne turned curious eyes on him as she twirled a blade of grass between her fingers.

  “Several.” He grinned.

  “I never took you for a rogue.” She tossed the blade of grass into the air. “Would you kiss me?”

  He drummed his fingers on the log. “Your reputation would be ruined if I did.”

  “Not if no one saw us.” Her cheeks flushed.

  Marcus stared at her wondering where the questions had come from. It was not at all like shy little Daphne to go about asking for kisses. “Why do you want me to kiss you?”

  She glanced over at the others for a heartbeat before returning her attention to him. “I fear no one ever will and I wish to know what it feels like to be kissed.”

  He could not kiss her. She was his close friend’s cousin, they had grown up together. He had an obligation to Bradford to look out for her if nothing else. Marcus rubbed the back of his neck. “I cannot kiss you.”

  “Because I am not pretty enough?”

  “No. Because you are innocent and young. I’ll not ruin you.” It was the truth. Her looks had nothing to do with his refusal for she was an attractive girl. He’d wager any number of men would be scrambling to kiss her once she’d had her coming out.

  “What if no one has kissed me by the end of my first season?” She stared at him through sad eyes.

  “Then I will.”

  The memory faded, returning Marcus to the present. He smiled at Daphne. “As though it were yesterday.” And he found himself started at the fact that he’d like to kiss her very much.

  Daphne stood and took a brazen steep toward him. “No one has kissed me.”

  “And you want me to do so now?” Marcus assumed that was what Daphne was asking for, but given the amounts of whiskey he'd consumed earlier and the late hour, he could not trust himself to be certain. Though he'd dearly like to feel her lips pressed to his. To taste her kiss and hold her against him. He had no wish to take advantage of her.

  Her cheeks flamed scarlet. “I’m sorry. I should not have asked.” She bolted from the kitchen before he could stop her.

  Why had he let her flee from him when he would have been happy to oblige. Perhaps it was for the best because regardless of how tempting she was, he would never do right by her. He was not in the market for a wife and she was the marrying type.

  Chapter 5

  Daphne settled back against the carriage seat, her bones wary from the day’s activity. She'd though accompanying Natalie and Pippa into the village would prove a good distraction. On the contrary, it had only served to wear her out. They’d visited each villager in turn, delivering saves, gloves, and baked goods. All the while Daphne had found herself thinking about Marcus and the ridiculous request she’d made of him.

  She was a fool. Plain and simple. An utter and complete dim wit.

  How could she have ever believed that he’d kiss her? No doubt he’d only struck the bird-witted bargain to assuage her feelings in the first place. Even then he’d been a rogue. If she’d appealed to him in any way he’d have honored her request years ago.

  Daphne turned to stare out the carriage window and snowflakes dancing toward the ground. If she wished to be kissed, she would have to follow Natalie’s advice and steal one. But how did one do such a thing?

  She folded her hands in her lap and turned toward Natalie. “I’d like to learn how to flirt.”

  “Have you decided on a mark then?” Natalie asked.

  Daphne shook her head, the ribbons of her bonnet tickling her throat. She only knew that it would not be Marcus.

  “You needn’t have a gentleman in mind,” Pippa smiled, “so long as you are ready when the opportunity presents itself.”

  Despite the heat spreading through her body, Daphne pulled the wool lap blanket tighter against her. “How will I know when that happens?”

  Pippa grinned, her eyes bright. “First you will have to find yourself alone with a gentleman. Once that happens you can flirt with him. Lean in close, bat your lashes. That kind of thing.”

  “Truly, men are easy to charm.” Natalie smiled.

  “Not for me, they’re not,” Daphne said.

  Natalie leaned toward her, her gaze sympathetic. “Only because you’ve not had much practice.”

  Daphne could no more deny the truth of Natalie’s statement then she could the color of the sky. Despite her three seasons, she’d never had a gentleman caller—not one. She’d never gone on an outing in the park or for ices at Gunters with a gentleman. She’d only danced a handful of sets at balls. In truth, Daphne hadn’t any idea how to charm a gentleman. She was extremely uncomfortable with the whole business.

  “We are going to fix that problem the moment we return.” Pippa beamed at Daphne from across the carriage. “And tonight Natalie and I will help you dress for the musical.”

  “That would be lovely,” Daphne said as she fought her rising anxiety. She most certainly wanted their assistance, but at the same time feared the outcome. Boldness had never been one of her traits, and she doubted her ability to utilize it now.

  She plucked at the edge of the lap blanket as she tried to imagine herself batting her eyelashes at a gentleman. Marcus’s image flooded her mind and before she realized what she was doing, she started batting her lashes at the empty space before her.

  “Have you something in your eyes?” Natalie asked, concern lacing her voice.

  “No. I was P…practicing.”

  Her cousins’ laughter filled the carriage. “Practicing what?”

  “Batting my lashes.” Daphne’s cheeks burned at the admission as well as the fact that she’d clearly done it wrong.

  Natalie sobered as she studied Daphne. "It looked as though you were frantically attempting to clear dust from your eyes. If you go about doing that to gentlemen, you'll no doubt frighten them."

  Pippa leaned forward to place her hand over Daphne’s. “Do not let her embarrass you. We all had to learn from someone.” She gave a sympathetic smile. “Think of batting your eyelashes more like a slow succession of flutters. Like a butterfly’s wings”

  Daphne watched as Pippa demonstrated. She fluttered her lashes first concealing and then revealing her eyes in a slow succession.

  “It is also important to keep a sweet set to your lips while flirting. Small, coy smiles work well.” Again Pippa demonstrated. “Now you try.”

  Daphne allowed her mouth to relax before pasting a smile onto her lips. Angling her head slightly downward, she fluttered her lashes. Though she felt like a cake for doing so, there was a measure of triumph when Natalie clapped her hands.

  “Bravo, cousin.”

  “You’re a natural,” Pippa added.

  Natalie repositioned her feet closer to the warming block. “Pay mind to the gentleman you are flirting with. If he gazes into your eyes for more than a moment, you’ll know you’ve captured his interest.”

  Marcus’s had held her gaze last night. Daphne could still feel his bold blue eyes burning into hers. But
then he’d not honored her request. Had she imagined their connection? She must have for he made no attempt to kiss her despite her invitation.

  She glanced between Pippa and Natalie. “Are you certain?”

  “Without a doubt,” Pippa said. “A man only gazes at a woman he’s interested in.”

  Daphne nibbled at her lower lip as she pondered their advice. “Might he do the same out of concern or curiosity?”

  “Those are forms of interest and you can use them to your advantage.” Natalie angled her head a fraction, studying Daphne. “Has someone been gazing at you?”

  “No,” Daphne lied, unwilling to embarrass herself further by sharing last night’s events. It would do no good to reveal her foolishness to Natalie or Pippa.

  The carriage swayed as it turned into the drive before jerking to a stop before the house. Daphne pushed the wool blanket from her lap and collected her reticule while they waited for the footman to assist them from the carriage.

  “We’ll continue our lessons in your room. Just give us a little while to freshen up.” Natalie gave Daphne a pointed look.

  Daphne attempted to stifle a yawn. The day had left her exhausted and desperately wanting a nap. "Might we wait until you come to help me ready for the musical? I'm dreadfully tired."

  “Perfect.” Pippa nodded her head in a matter of fact gesture. “I am quite certain my husband is awaiting me. He’ll be cross if I do not spend some time in his company after being away all afternoon.”

  “A nap with Christian does sound pleasing.” Natalie gave a teasing grin. “Though I doubt we’ll sleep.”

  Daphne’s eyes widened at the scandalous words. “Natalie.” She shook her head in admonishment.

  Her cousin’s vibrant laughter bounced around the carriage. “Do stop being such a prude.”

  Pippa sighed, turning a reproachful gaze on Natalie. “Truly, Natalie, she is an innocent. We ought to keep our corruption to a minimum.”

  “Oh very well.” Natalie rose as the footman opened the carriage door. One by one he handed them down before closing it again.

  Daphne pulled her cloak tight against the cold winter air as she mounted the porch steps. The warmth of her bed would be most welcome indeed. As well as the escape that sleep would provide her.

  Tonight would be soon enough to fret over kisses.

  Chapter 6

  Marcus leaned against the floor to ceiling window frame as he watched Daphne play the harp. Her skilled fingers worked the strings sending pleasing music through the space and for a moment he wondered what it would feel like to be caressed by her. Gooseflesh erupted on his arms and the nape of his neck at the thought of her soft flesh stroking his.

  “Clarendon, it’s been quite some time.” The Duke of Sheridan approached with Bradford at his side.

  Marcus gave a bow. “It is a pleasure to be back in your home, Your Grace.”

  The duke gave a jovial grin. “My duchess out does herself for the holiday festivities.”

  Marcus had spent many a Christmastide at Harrington Gardens as his own family did not go out of their way to make the holidays special. But then, considering that the duke and duchess always held a grand celebration, he supposed his parents had no reason to. Given their close proximity as well as their friendship with the Duke and Duchess of Sheridan, his family would be foolish to try and compete.

  Marcus returned the aging man’s smile. “That she does.”

  The duke brought his hand to his mouth to cover a cough.

  Bradford clapped his hand on his father’s back. “Perhaps some water?”

  Marcus’s gaze drifted back to Daphne. Her golden tresses had been styled differently tonight, left to flow over her shoulder in shiny waves rather than gathered tightly at the nape of her neck. She’d had it loose in the kitchen as well and he rather liked it that way.

  “Water would be good,” the duke said. He sat in a chair near the window before addressing Marcus again. “My niece is a vision tonight. Is she not?”

  Marcus stiffened, returning his gaze to the duke. Bloody hell, he’d been caught ogling her. “Indeed.”

  The duke’s gaze took on a decided sparkle as he turned his attention toward Daphne. “She’d blossomed into a fine young woman. Affluent, kind, and pretty. All she requires now is a husband.”

  Marcus nearly chocked when the duke turned expectant eyes on him.

  The duke raised on bushy grey eyebrow. “You are of the age to marry. Perhaps the two of you would suit?”

  "Though the lady is lovely, I'm in no hurry to take a wife, Your Grace." Marcus tugged at his cravat finding it suddenly too tight. He was captivated by Daphne, intrigued, to say the least, but certainly not marriage minded. She'd simply taken him by surprise with her request in the kitchen and by how much her looks had evolved since he'd last paid her mind.

  “Mores-the-pity, for I don’t believe she will remain unwed for long,” the duke said. Another cough raked his body causing his shoulders to rise and fall in quick little successions.

  Marcus studied the man for a long moment. His skin had a slight grey tone and his eyes reflected a wariness he’d not noticed before. He had the sinking feeling that water alone would not cure the duke. “Is the anything I can do for you, Your Grace?”

  "No, I'm quite alright." The Duke cleared his throat. "If only Bradford would hurry with my water."

  Marcus scanned the crowded room. “He’s on his way.”

  In another moment Bradford had reached them. He extended the crystal water glass to his father. “You seem rather wore out, Father.”

  The duke took a drink before glancing back up at him. “Yes, indeed. Perhaps I will retire.” The duke started to stand, wobbled and sank back into the chair.

  Bradford jolted forward. “Father!”

  The duke held up one hand, halting Bradford and said, “I’m quite alright.”

  “Allow us to assist you.” Marcus came to stand on the opposite side of the chair. “These over-stuffed contraptions can be bloody difficult to get out of,” Marcus added the later to sooth the duke’s ruffled feathers for it was clear he did not want the help he needed.

  The Duke nodded. "Too true. Very well, gentlemen, give me a boost.”

  Bradford took one arm while Marcus hooked his elbow under the other. The pair hoisted the duke to his feet then released him. Bradford exchanged a worried glance with Marcus as they watched the duke amble away.

  “I’m worried about him,” Bradford said, his attention still on his father. “I should see him to his rooms.”

  “Is there a reason to worry?” Marcus swallowed back his own concern. “If not you will only injure his pride and perhaps anger him by playing nursemaid.”

  Bradford chuckled. “I suppose you are right. Even if it was more than old age, and both he and mother insist it’s nothing more, he’d not want me fretting.”

  Marcus nudged Bradford with his elbow. “Shall we find a drink?”

  “I don’t suppose anyone will notice if we are missing long enough to fill a flask.” Bradford strolled toward the door. “And I could use something stronger than lemonade.”

  Heaven knew Marcus could as well. His attention returned to Daphne as he made his way across the room. Her hair was not the only thing different. Her full breasts were near to spilling out from the confines of the low-cut décolletage of her clinging gown. He had the sudden urge to go to her and drape his jacket over her voluptuous body.

  Her gaze met his and a becoming flush creep over her chest and bloomed on her round cheeks. His groin tightened in response. She may well be innocent, but she was proving a temptress as well. He pulled his attention from her and hurried his steps more in need of a drink now than he’d ever been.

  Chapter 7

  With her set at an end, Daphne stood and gave a curtsey. Her body was aflame with heat from the way Marcus had been watching her. Where had he gone and why had he been studying her in such a jarring fashion?

  The moment the applause ended, she made he
r way to the refreshment table. She lifted a glass of cool lemonade to her lips and drank greedily. With any luck, he would not return to the music room. Her actions from the other night made it far too hard to be in his presence now.

  “You played beautifully.” Mr. Ashe smiled.

  Daphne lowered the glass and smiled back at him. “Thank you.”

  “I should enjoy hearing more of your music. I’d wager it rivals the angels.”

  Daphne giggled, her cheeks warming all over again. “I dare say I could never rival such heavenly creatures.”

  Mr. Ashe trailed his gaze over her. "Oh, but you do."

  Daphne's head swam at his attention to the point she feared she may faint. Her instincts told her to excuse herself, but her mind demanded she remain by his side. For heaven’s sake, a man was flirting with her. If she could manage to pull herself together, she may well get her kiss.

  Her gaze found Natalie’s and her cousin gave a bright reassuring smile. Natalie nudged Pippa who stood beside her and she too gave encouragement. “I’m rather warm,” Daphne said, setting her glass back on the sideboard with shaky hands.

  “It would be my pleasure to escort you out of the room for a bit of space.” Mr. Ashe proffered his arm.

  Daphne’s insides trembled as he led her into the hall. The air proved a bit cooler away from the crush of guests, but her body still burned and a decided dizziness infested her mind. What was she to do now that she had Mr. Ashe in private? She would not dare ask him for a kiss. She’d learned her lesson on that score with Marcus.

  Think, think, think. She chided herself as Mr. Ashe led her down the bright hall. Her gaze darted around at the chairs, tables, and alcoves they passed. Perhaps she should ask him to sit with her? And then what? Mercy she was out of her element.

  “Are you feeling better?” Mr. Ashe patted her hand where it rested at his elbow.

  “A little.” She glanced up at him, her gaze meeting his striking green eyes and her mouth went dry. It wasn’t that she found herself attracted to him. He was handsome, but she did not desire his kiss. Not the way she found herself wishing for Marcus’s. Could she truly share such an intimate moment with anyone?