“I suppose I do. Which is why I take it off when I am home. Not, however, when I am about to attend a ball. Why do you want it off?”
“I’d like to see your neck.” The moment the words came out of her mouth, she could hear how ridiculous she was being. What was she thinking?Tellinghim she wanted to see his neck? Who thinks of such a thing?
But Nicholas simply tipped his head as if she had said the most rational thing in the world, pulled out the pin, and unfastened the knot.
His collar was still high, but the middle of his throat, and a smallvof skin below it was bare. He neck was strong and corded, a testament to the rigid man standing before her. His Adam’s apple was still, hovering in the middle of his throat.Swallow, she wanted to demand, but one absolutely preposterous request was, perhaps, all she should allow herself. “You must think I am a complete hoyden.”
“Because you wanted to see my neck?”
She nodded.
“I happen to be quite captivated by your neck, so no, I do not think you are a complete hoyden. I do think I should return my cravat once you are done examining me, though. Unless you truly are ready to be engaged, and even then, I believe we are stretching the boundaries of propriety.”
“I’m not done.”
He would have to swallow, eventually.
His mouth quirked, and he nodded, and in that moment, Mercy knew she was going to marry this man. He was not at all what she thought she wanted, but somehow, he was more—more in every way.
Rosalind could have her Richard who wore his emotions on his sleeve. Mercy would revel in a man who only allowed himself to light on fire when he caught her alone. She motioned to the long, white silken strip falling down his chest on either side of his neck. “May I hold that for a moment?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to throw it in the fire, are you?”
“No.” She laughed. “Why would I do that?”
“I have no idea. But I wanted to eliminate the possibility. I do have to make myself presentable at some point this evening.”
“I will not burn your cravat.”
Nicholas raised a hand and pulled on the one side of the cravat, and it slid easily from his neck. He caught the free end of it before it fell to the floor, then held it out to her with both hands. Mercy bit her lip. If she took this next step, there would be no going back. Her eyes met Nicholas’s. His were still dark, but curious. He was waiting for her to do... something.
Whether she was completely ready or not, she had no desire to disappoint the man she had only just rejected. What a difference a few minutes made. Her parents could walk through that door at any moment, and if they found them here in this state, Mercy would have to lie and tell them she had accepted his marriageproposal. But if she could perform one simple task before they returned, she could ask him to propose one more time, without feeling like she’d given into him with just a few measly kisses on her hand.
Well, not measly, but still. It was the principal of the thing. She couldn’t begin a long-term relationship by immediately caving to all of Nicholas’s wishes. It was a bad precedent to set.
Had her sister felt such confidence and power when she had been in the same position? Had her mother? How could all the women in one family be so fortunate?
Mercy smiled, put one hand out, and grasped the cravat where it hung lowest, right between his two hands, and pulled it toward her.
Chapter 25
Nicholas hadn’t a clue whatMercy wanted with his cravat. But there wasn’t much he wouldn’t give her if she asked for it. She stood in front of him, holding it and smiling as if she had something positively wicked planned. The door was open, her parents were at home, and servants wandered nearby. At any moment, they could be disturbed, at which point he would have to ask Mercy to marry him again.
The thought should give him pause. The last time he had asked her, she’d let him know in no uncertain terms that she was not interested.
But that wicked gleam in her eye seemed to suggest she might have changed her mind.
“There is one more thing I would like to try,” Mercy said. “But I worry that with your sensibilities, it could be too much.”
“My sensibilities?” How prudish did she think he was? He opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped.Prudishwas actually a fair description of him. At least now. And certainly while they stood alone in the parlor together. If he protested the title, she may ask him to prove that he wasn’t. “What would like to try?”
“I won’t kiss you. Not exactly. I know that you would much rather wait until an engagement forsuch things.”
He couldn’t help a quick glance at her parted lips. What in the world did she mean by that? “Youwon’t exactlykiss me?”
“Correct.”
“Because you shouldn’t kiss me at all. You know that.”
