“That’s right,” the Duke whispered, trailing a finger across her lips. “Look up at me, just like that. I’m going to kiss you now.”
Then, he lowered his lips to hers and set her on fire. The heat of that first kiss shot through her like a lightning bolt, and her passionate response to him could not be restrained. Right or wrong, wise or unwise, she wanted this. She wanted him, wherever that led.
Following his lead, her tongue danced with his, and her hands grabbed at his waistcoat and his shirt under the still-unbuttoned jacket. Then, her fingers tangled in his unruly hair, holding his head to hers for ever deeper and more unrestrained kisses.
They were so distracted that they did not hear the clatter of the approaching carriage or the disagreement of its occupants until its wheels were pulling into the stable yard and nearly upon them.
“There, I’ve brought you back, damn it all! I hope you’re happy now.”
“You have only done what a gentleman should. Do you want credit for that? You’re like a boy, not a man.”
“Ha! You call me childish whenyoucried on the road.”
“You beast! How was I to know it was so far away?”
Cecily and the Duke quickly pulled apart upon hearing the voices. Cecily read from his expression that he also recognized one of the speakers.
“Mary?” she gasped.
CHAPTER 12
“Shh, be quiet.”
Nathaniel put a finger to his lips and shook his head. It was better that they both stay back against the stable wall unseen for now. The truth was sometimes more likely to be spoken unawares than deliberately.
“Let’s see what we are dealing with first,” he urged her quietly. “Something tells me that these two haven’t been to Gretna Green and back.”
“Do not be absurd. They have been together alone since Mary absconded,” Cecily whispered back. “Why have they come back? What happened?”
Her face was pale and worried, whereas just moments ago, it had been soft and rosy with desire, her warm lips against his and her hands further rumpling his already rumpled clothes.
In his head, Nathaniel cursed Patrick anew. His brother had caused a great deal of trouble—admittedly some of it very welcome trouble—by running off with Miss Mary Holt. Now his return had proved equally inconvenient, interrupting a most exciting embrace that boded well for the marriage bed—if Nathaniel could ever get that far.
His main hope of reaching the altar with Cecily surely depended on Patrick and Mary. If his bride slipped away now, he would be back to square one without a duchess, not to mention the frustration of a half-finished seduction.
Why couldn’t Patrick and Mary stay on the road?
Nathaniel had been quite prepared to follow them all the way to Gretna Green, imagining how far he could tease his bride-to-be at each of the inns on the way. Once the young lovers were found and ascertained to be wed, he might as well have married Cecily there and then before the blacksmith’s anvil, too.
How amusing that would have been, and how enjoyable the slow journey back. How droll too, riding into Greyhaven Park and introducing his new Duchess to the household so soon. Besides warming his bed, Cecily could have quickly taken on the estate and duties, relieving him of the lingering worry about Lilian.
Now, he accepted gloomily that this series of pleasant daydreams had to be discarded. The two instigators of the crisis that had brought Cecily into his life sat glaring at each other in a rather impractical open-top carriage, pulled by a tired-looking pair of horses. Both were red-faced and irritable, and the wordsthey shouted at one another sounded anything but tender or loving.
“I told you it would take days to get to Scotland, Mary! You said you didn’t care as long as we were together. It’s a fine time to make a fuss about the journey now.”
“I thought you were teasing me. Anyway, none of this is about Scotland, and you know it. It’s about you, Patrick!”
“Oh, of course, it’s all my fault again! You haven’t stopped complaining since the moment we set off. Patrick, do this. Patrick, do that!”
“Running away with you has been the biggest mistake of my life!” Mary snapped, trying and failing to open the door of the small carriage.
“Really? Would you rather have stayed and married that old goat?” Patrick scoffed.
“No! I should have run away by myself.”
Despite their ongoing argument, Patrick opened the carriage door and helped her down. Her once white dress was covered with dust, and her golden hair was more tousled than up. If Patrick was going to charge his transport back to the estate, he might as well have hired a more suitable vehicle.
“Ha! As if you would have gotten as far as the end of the road by yourself, Mary. I don’t even know what you think you will do now that I’ve brought you back here.”
