“Yes,” Berty replied directly, not concerned in the slightest, yet in the back of her mind, she remembered Lady Southridge’s words…
And wondered.
And when he took a step forward, rather than taking a step back, she held fast.
When he tipped her chin upward, rather than jerk away, she met his gaze with a challenging one of her own.
Certainly, when he lowered his head, she should have never leaned in.
Or closed her eyes.
Or breathed in his sigh just before his lips reached hers.
But if love was adventure, certainly that meant one needed to take a few risks.
And as his lips caressed her own, she fleetingly thought that it was a worthwhile risk indeed.
HENRY NEEDED TO break away.
Needed to gather his wits.
Needed to bloody stop kissing the duke’s ward for heaven’s sake!
Yet his body wouldn’t obey his mind, likely because his thoughts weren’t exactly full of conviction.
Instead, he was much more focused on the way she all but melted into the kiss. Her lemon scent was heady, adding another layer to the passionate fog that had muddled all his senses. Slowly, he laced his fingers through her gloved hands, tilting his head to capture more of her mouth, savoring her soft sigh as he changed the direction of his head and caressed her lips once more. Was this her first kiss? Second? Certainly, she was an innocent just by the way her response was tentative yet passionate at once. He wanted more, his body demanding it, but he resisted, relishing the innocence of the moment.
Far too often, he’d been surrounded by those who were jaded, damaged, and broken. It was addictive to experience authentic unbeguiled nature, and he wanted — needed — more.
Needed to remind himself that it still existed in the world.
Even if it never had existed within himself.
Delicate arms rested on his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, their featherlight weight erotic. Leaning into her enticing form, he bit back a groan of pleasure, knowing he needed to measure his reaction, protect her from himself and the knowledge that kissing only led to more. At least that was always the hope.
An impossible hope, yet alive nonetheless.
Against every instinct, he slowly withdrew from the kiss, his lips carrying her flavor as he met her passion-drugged gaze. Impossible to resist, he leaned forward and kissed her softly once more, measuring himself, simply treasuring the nuances again before the spell was broken, and he had to go back to remembering who he was not.
And more importantly, who she, indeed, was.
Reluctant to open his eyes, he sighed before his eyes met hers. Not stepping out of her embrace yet, he lingered. Her captivatingly warm brown eyes were alight with understanding, awe, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, shock as she, too, released a soft sigh.
Her pink tongue darted out to lick her swollen lower lip. “I suppose that is one way to win an argument.”
Irrepressible laughter forced a chuckle to escape, his face relaxing into a broad grin as he considered her words. How like her to not only shock him with her kiss but then her fascinating wit shortly after!
“Indeed.”
“Is it a method you use often?” She asked pointedly.
Henry shook his head slowly, knowing his answer was of paramount importance. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever used the method before. Though now that I see how well it works, I may have to attempt it again.” He flirted against his better judgment. Yet he found it was impossible to resist her.
“Ah.” She nodded once, her gaze flickering to the ground.
Henry quickly added, “But only in certain situations, with very specific people.” He tipped her chin up with his finger, waiting till she met his gaze.
“That is comforting to know.” Her gaze warmed, all earlier insecurity disappearing from her eyes. “Am I then to understand that all future challenges are to be potentially ended this way?”
“Yes, indeed.”
Miss Lamont smiled. “Then I believe I’ll find more ways to challenge you, Mr. Willox.”
Henry practically groaned as his natural instincts flared to life at the prospect; just hearing the words on her lips was enough of an invitation for his body to practically leap forward, yet he held fast, cursing his damn attraction to the woman.
“I’d remind to you be cautious with your words, Miss Lamont. They’ve certainly proved to create trouble for you, have they not?” he reminded none too gently.
“A risk I’m quite willing to take, and since we’re clearly more familiar, I’d beg of you to cease calling me Miss Lamont. My name is Berty. I’d have a much more cheerful outlook on life in general if you’d use it.”
Henry frowned slightly. “Do you dislike your family name so much?” His curiosity burned.
“No, I quite like my family name, but it is not how I identify myself. So, if you please…” She let the words linger as she met his gaze with a bold one of her own.
“As you wish… Berty.” His lips curled into a grin as he spoke her name. How well it fit her! Impetuous, witty, and full of life. Nothing about her or her name was conventional, and it couldn’t have been a better match.
“May I then…” She tilted her head in inquiry.
“Henry. If you wish.” He nodded sagely, knowing that he was walking through dangerous territory yet unable to deny himself the pleasure of hearing his name on her lips.
Even if it was only for a time.
“Henry, then.” She nodded. “It suits you.”
“I’m quite fond of the name myself,” he teased.
Then, she apparently realized how she was still holding him, and she disengaged her arms quickly, all but tucking them behind her body self-consciously.
He took the opportunity to step back, giving himself distance and fresh air that wasn’t perfumed with her scent, calling to him, tempting him once more.
“Well…” Berty smoothed her skirts, amusing him as she became more of the prim Englishwoman that she’d no doubt been trained to be.
And thankfully, it would seem that little of the training seemed to stick.
“Yes?” Henry asked, amused.
“…I will converse with Lady Southridge tonight, and—”
“Morning, the stables. You still wish to take your early ride, do you not?” he asked, reaching out and tucking a loose curl behind her ear.
Berty blinked then nodded once. “Indeed.” Her lips curled into a knowing grin. “Though the kidnapping part won’t be necessary. I do believe we’ve arrived at some sort of truce, have we not?”
Henry chuckled softly. “Tentatively.”
Berty sighed, irritated. “Then I’ll be sure to arm myself. It turned out quite helpful this morning,” she reminded him.
Twisting his lips, Henry narrowed his gaze. “I am not one to be easily surprised, Berty. Now that I’m aware of your maneuvers, I’ll not be fooled twice,” he challenged with a grin.
Rather than rise to his bait, she simply shrugged and turned toward the door. After she took a few steps, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Who says I’m arming myself the same way as before?”
With a quick wink, she quit the room, leaving Henry as aroused as he had been during the kiss. Bloody hell, that woman had him constantly guessing.
And it was both brilliant and alarming.
Erotic and disconcerting.
And damn it all, if that didn’t complicate matters even more.
As if he needed help in that department.
Falling for the duke’s ward? Deuced complicated enough.
Add in a potential traitor, a house party and a woman more than willing to find reasons to be kissed, and him as more than a willing participant…
He’d never been in love before.
And he had the foreboding impression that he was well on his way.
That wasn’t in the plan.
But he didn’t exactly know how to stop it.
Nor did he want to.<
br />
Which scared him more than any assignment the War Office had ever given him.
Love. War.
It made sense that he’d find them together.
BERTY SIGHED CONTENTEDLY as she headed to her room after dinner. Henry — she smiled to herself as she thought the name — had been nowhere to be seen during dinner. But that wasn’t surprising. Rather, she was quite thankful for the time to gather her wits and relive the afternoon’s events. It also gave her time to speak with Lady Southridge about their plans.
Lady Southridge had heartily agreed to the house party, and Berty was quite proud of how she hadn’t given away too many sensitive details yet still was able to convey the general idea. The dowager was certain the duke wouldn’t mind, though Berty was more of the inclination that Lady Southridge was more of the “ask forgiveness, not permission” type, regardless. It was set forward, that they’d have the party early the next week, giving the staff time to organize the event, and the guests enough time to plan as well.
Lady Southridge had commented on Berty’s “high color,” as she’d put it, but Berty refrained from comment, saying that the weather in Bath was much warmer than London.
Which was true.
Just not necessarily accurate as to why she was flushed.
Why, even through dinner, when she’d think of the kiss, she would feel a blush heat her face.
It was delightful.
And annoying.
She rather wished she could blush in private.
Yet that would require her to cease thinking of it for a time, and she was willing to take the embarrassment along with the pleasure of not waiting to enjoy the memory of her first kiss.
Good Lord, it was far easier to understand why young ladies were ruined.
Even now, as she ascended the stairs to her room, she felt a heat sear her cheeks at the thought of her own brazen behavior.
Yet she couldn’t find it within herself to feel ashamed.
Rather, she was proud that she’d had the presence of mind to kiss him back!
And to think that he had all but stated that he wanted to kiss her again!
It was a heady thought, one that would certainly follow her through the night.
As she readied for bed, she forced herself to pay attention to the way Alice spoke about her captain. Apparently, now that Berty was aware of their relationship, Alice was willing to speak more of it.
“Will you see him soon?” Berty asked, noting the flush in Alice’s face, and for the first time, realizing that it was a telltale sign that Alice had enjoyed her captain’s kisses as well!
“Tomorrow, miss. His regiment is potentially receiving new orders this next week. It’s my hope that they don’t relocate the regiment.” Alice worried her lip as she ran a comb through Berty’s hair.
“I’m certain they will not,” Berty encouraged, knowing full well she had no certainty of it one way or the other. But she wanted to reassure her friend. “Why would they relocate?”
“George said that they are aware of the tentative nature of France’s current state.”
“That’s intriguing,” Berty replied, listening closely. “Why do you think they suspect that?”
“I’m not certain. George is confident it’s just rumors, yet I’m sure that they’ll heed them. It is, after all, the French. They cannot be trusted.”
“Indeed,” Berty agreed, more out of habit than conviction. Rather, she was processing the information.
“Enough about that. How was your evening, miss?” Alice asked.
Berty gave a quick answer and soon after dismissed her maid.
As she climbed into her soft bed, her mind spun through the events of the day, from the odd start of the morning to the even more out-of-character kiss that seemed to change everything. And certainly, Henry would be interested to know the information passed along from Alice.
Berty breathed softly through her nose, trying to calm her heart. She let her thoughts take her back the library. Touching her lips, she felt them smile beneath her touch as she thought back over the kiss.
It had been quite a momentous first kiss.
With a spy, no less.
Her grin widened as a delicious shiver tickled her spine while millions of butterflies seemed to take flight in her belly. Perhaps she would get her adventure after all. She had a feeling it was only just beginning. And with that thought, she fell asleep.
Morning came quickly, and Berty hesitated only momentarily before rolling out of bed to quickly dress for her morning ride. She had dismissed Alice from attending her that morning, so she quickly dressed herself in a pale blue riding habit and loosely braided her hair and pinned it. Thankful for the lesser social constraints of the country, she quickly darted down the hall and was soon on her way toward the stables.
Herra was already saddled and waiting beside a dark brown gelding. At her approach, Henry walked from a stall, his expression guarded at her approach. “Good morning.”
“Trying to decide if I’m armed?” Berty asked sweetly, slowly patting along Herra’s hindquarters.
“Amongst other things.” Henry’s expression softened, and a grin tipped his lips.
How was it that someone could seem so cold, yet a smile could brighten her entire being? It was certainly the case with Henry. He was apparently used to being distant, calm, unattached, and cool. Yet once one broke through the chilly exterior, his countenance was warm like sunshine and just as brilliant.
“What other things?” Berty asked against her better judgment.
“Other things.” Henry shrugged, glancing away as he picked up a mounting block and set it beside Herra. Offering a hand, he waited.
“Thank you.” Berty took his hand, the warmth of it seeping through her gloves as she mounted her horse and settled into the sidesaddle.
“My pleasure.” He slowly released her as his lips tipped into a side smile.
“I see you’re riding with me rather than leading me astray today,” Berty noted as he straddled the gelding.
“I figured it would be easier to hunt you down if you ran away,” he shot back, grinning unrepentantly.
“Touché.” Berty shook her head, amused.
“Where are we going this fine morning, my lady?” Henry asked, easing his mount into a walk beside hers.
“Hmm.” Berty pursed her lips. “Let’s follow the road a bit toward the northern edge of the estate. It’s lovely in that direction, and if we squint, we might be able to see the edge of Garden Gate,” she added with a wink.
“Garden Gate?” Henry asked, following her lead down the well-worn road.
Berty encouraged her mare into a slow trot, thankful for the horse’s smooth gait. “Yes, it’s the Duchess of Clairmont’s family estate.”
“Ah. Have you many memories of it?”
“No. We visited occasionally but it’s far more accommodating to stay at GreenFord Waters.”
Henry chuckled. “Indeed, it’s quite a magnificent place.”
“It is indeed.” Berty waited till they passed over the small hill that afforded additional privacy. “I learned something of note yesterday.”
Henry’s gelding increased his pace till they were riding side by side. “Did you now?”
Berty nodded once. “My lady’s maid, Alice — the one we’ve already conversed about…”
“Yes, the one associated with Captain Brockston.” Henry waited.
“Indeed. Well it would seem that the regiment is considering moving from Bath to a different location, something about not trusting the French.”
“You don’t say.” Henry tilted his head. “That’s intriguing.”
“I thought as much.”
Henry’s dark brows knit together. “Have you garnered permission from Lady Southridge regarding the party?” he asked, changing the subject and turning his gaze forward.
Berty nodded. “Yes, she was quite enthusiastic with her approval.”
“That is most assuredly in our favor.”
/> “Yes. We thought to set the date for next week.”
Henry gave curt nod. “Very good. That will give more than enough time to spread the news.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Berty agreed.
Henry tilted his head, and offering a slight grin, he met her gaze. “Be sure to notify your lady’s maid, giving her free rein to spread the word. I have a feeling that will be quite helpful.”
Berty returned his smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”
They rode on in companionable silence as they crested the next hill. Yet as the moments stretched on, Berty found the sound of the horses’ hooves anything but calming; rather, she decided that the silence was quite loud.
And obnoxious.
But, for possibly the first time in her life, she couldn’t think of one thing to say.
Odd, that.
“You’re remarkably tightlipped. I’m not certain if I should find peace in the silence, or if I should be watching my back.” Henry broke the wretched lack of conversation and offered her a challenging grin.
“That’s still undecided,” Berty replied, thankful for something intelligent to say.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Henry took a long breath. “I feel as though I should apologize for my behavior yesterday.” He turned his gaze forward to the road, not meeting the startled expression she could feel on her face.
“Oh?” she squeaked out. Did he regret his actions?
And here she was mooning over the kiss all night.
Immediately, she felt the fool.
“It wasn’t exactly upstanding behavior, and I’m quite certain your guardian would lock me in the Tower of London for such a thing.” His gaze flickered to hers, his expression wry.
“They don’t lock people in the Tower of London… anymore.”
“Ha.” He chuckled. “Ignorance is bliss.”
“I’m going to pretend I’m utterly unaware.”
“That would be wise.”
But her curiosity got the better of her. “Do they really?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
Henry’s laugher echoed in the dell. “Curious?”
“Perhaps.” Berty sniffed and edged her mare into a canter.
Henry’s gelding quickly passed her by, and unable to resist a challenge, she encouraged her mare to increase her speed, making it an official race.
A Hoyden and an Heiress (Greenford Waters Book 4) Page 6