He produced the morning’s papers from his coat, opening to a page where the headline read:“Duke of Carden Welcomes Niece to Family.”The story portrayed Lizzie as the orphaned daughter of a distant cousin and praised the Greycliffs’charitable embrace.’
Rose read it twice, then pressed a hand to her mouth.
“I arranged it,” Felix said. “Paid handsomely. If anyone asks, she’s ours, in the only way that matters.”
Rose closed the paper and looked at him, her eyes wet but shining. “Thank you.”
He shrugged, but the gesture did not reach his face. “It seemed important.”
She stepped forward, arms circling him, and rested her head against his chest. For a moment, he stood rigid, unsure how to return the gesture.
Then he folded her in, gently but securely, and let himself believe that none of this was borrowed or feigned.
CHAPTER 16
Lord Aldworth’s walled garden was half-wild with violets and woodruff, hemmed in by ancient brick, lit by a single, floating lantern that made the columns shimmer like stars.
Rose had barely set foot inside before the soft chill nipped at her bare arms. Felix, in a rare display of chivalry, shrugged off his own coat and draped it across her shoulders. His fingers brushed her collarbone with what might have been accidental delicacy. They walked side by side along a stone path, the party behind them gradually dissolving into laughter and the brittle clink of glasses.
Rose had not wanted to come, but Felix had argued that a night away from Carden House might do them good.
Now, as the night deepened and the garden’s lanterns trembled on their hooks, Rose wondered if she had been outmaneuvered.
Inside the gazebo, the cold was different: deeper, more private, as if the world outside had nothing to do with the two of them. Felix leaned against the marble banister; eyes luminous in the half-dark.
“You look as though you’re about to be sentenced,” he murmured. “Would you prefer I stand trial as well?”
She tried to glare, but her mouth betrayed her. “You make it sound like a crime to be here with you.”
“Is it?” He inched closer, the heat of him sudden and unmistakable. “I rather thought we were past all that.”
Rose’s pulse beat high in her throat. She felt the jittery thrill of something forbidden, the memory of every midnight story she had ever pressed beneath a convent pillow.
“Don’t,” she said, but the word was soft, barely more than a sigh.
Felix took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Don’t what?”
She could not answer. Instead, she watched as his mouth found the inside of her wrist, the skin there as thin and transparent as paper. He held her gaze as he lingered, letting the tension stretch, then, still not looking away, he let his other hand settle at her waist.
He drew her forward until she was pressed between his body and the cold, fluted stone of the column.
“Does the marble suit you, Duchess?” he asked, voice low.
“I like it very much.” She opened her mouth to continue speaking, and Felix took the opportunity to kiss her.
First, he kissed just her mouth, then the line of her jaw, then the hollow where her pulse leaped. His lips were warm, coaxing rather than demanding. When she did not flinch, he deepened the kiss, his tongue clever and insistent.
Her hands found their way to his lapels. She gripped the fine wool, steadying herself as her knees began to fail her.
Felix’s laugh vibrated through his chest and into hers. “Easy, Rose. Let yourself savor this.”
“Someone—” she tried, but he covered her mouth with his own, silencing protest.
The taste of him—whiskey and masculinity—clouded her head. She let herself be kissed, and then, after a moment, she kissed him back.
He pressed closer, the length of his body a wall at her front, the column unyielding at her back. His hands were everywhere: tracing her jaw, smoothing her hair, tugging at the ribbon that held her dress together at the nape. He found the knot and teased it loose with an efficiency that suggested practice.
When the bodice slipped, his glance dropped with reverent admiration. His gaze swept every inch of her before returning to her eyes, waiting for any indication that she wanted him to stop.
