He nodded but wanted to touch her instead, so clasped his hands behind his back. “Thank you, Lottie, and…” Would it be wrong to suggest they go downstairs for another nightcap?YES! Wrong and reckless and much too dangerous!“… good night.”
“I like being Lottie again.” She beamed at him. “Does that mean that you conceded our race before I’ve had the opportunity to beat you?”
Lord, but she was beautiful in candlelight. Beautiful and oh-so- tempting he could barely stand it. “Of course not,Miss Travers,that was just a slip of the tongue.”
“Of course it was.” She gave him a playful push. “For heaven forbid you forgive and forget until you have squeezed every drop out of my penance. That you even insist on penance is churl-lish.” She stumbled over that last syllable and chuckled some more. “Bloody cognac!” He likedloose-lipped Lottie a great deal too. “Good night, Guy.” She turned, then turned back. Went to say something and, to his complete shock, took two steps forward and pressed her mouth against his instead.
He could taste the cognac on her lips, reminding him that she wasn’t sober, and cursed the gentlemanly manners ingrained in him that forced him to stand passive rather than haul her into his arms like he wanted. Perhaps not completely passive as, while his arms remained nobly locked by his sides, his mouth responded. He was only human, after all, at least that is how he justified his restrained participation.
Lottie, on the other hand, was anything but restrained and bestowed upon him a hungry, thorough kiss, an intoxicating promise of more that was way too short. Then, no sooner as it had started but it stopped and she used his chest to push herself away. She blinked at him in shock, her breath as reassuringly ragged as his was, her fingertips going to her lips where he hoped he still lingered.
“What was that for?”
“I think I am a tiny bit drunk.” She bit her lip, her eyes both stunned and shimmering with need. “Perhaps a lot drunk and getting drunker by the second.”
“Cognac does that.” God dammit. “Best you go sleep it off before you lose your head completely.” Or he lost his.
“Yes… undoubtedly.” She edged backward, her expression befuddled by the potency of the impromptu contact, just as he supposed his was. “Good night, Guy.” She spun on her heel then and picked up her skirts, offering him one last indecipherable look before she scurried away. “Sleep tight.”
Guy watched her go and then leaned back on the solid door for support as he choked out an ironic laugh. Exactly how the hell was he supposed to sleep now that all he could taste was Lottie and cognac?
And, as the return of the painful bulge in his breeches could attest, the former was definitely headier than the latter.
ChapterTWENTY-SIX
Sometimes, according to her big brother Stephen, the only way to deal with making a total arse of yourself (which he did often) was to simply take it on the chin. Therefore, as Lottie arrived at the stables a little bit after sunrise—and undeniably more than a little bit thickheaded and mortified by her behavior—she greeted Guy’s wry, smug smile with a shrug. “Rest assured that lessons have been learned and I shall be avoiding all cognac going forward. It clearly brings out the worst in me.”
Except it had actually brought out her. At least the part of her that wanted him in every which way possible. Guy consumed her—her thoughts, her dreams, her emotions, her desires, her body—in a way no man had before. After a fitful night of recrimination and soul-searching mixed with lust, she could not deny the feelings she had for him. Sometime in the last week she had been speared by Cupid’s arrow and there was nothing she could do about it. That she was leaving in a few days and they were separated in station by an ocean only made it all so bittersweet. But she was here now, with him, and they were well on the way to parting as friends again, and that had to be enough. “I obviously apologize for the…” Her index finger circled her mouth because she really didn’t want to have to talk about that kiss—because it had come from the heart. Herheart and a few other, mostly lower, body parts that had decided to join in. “As I just said, cognac is apparently my nemesis.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, chuckling now, as he finished saddling Juno, “it made you very entertaining. I thoroughly enjoyed all your swaying and slurring and swearing and impropriety.” His gaze briefly dropped to her mouth but thankfully he made no mention of the kiss either. “However, if you are feeling too fragile this morning to compete, I do understand. You could save yourself the humiliation of a crushing defeat and simply concede now.”
“On the contrary, I feel much better about racing you with the handicap of a headache. I would have felt bad about not giving you some sort of concession this morning.” She sincerely hoped the crisp morning breeze would blow those alcohol-induced cobwebs out fast.
“Let’s have a pointless rundown of the rules,” said Bill, emerging from the tack room, regarding them both with an expression of bemusement. “To try and avoid any broken necks or exploding tempers.” He waited for them to pay him their full attention. “Rule one—” He held up his meaty hand to count them off on his fingers. “If anyone starts before my signal, they are automatically disqualified and the win goes to the other. Rule two—no pushing, barging, or interfering with each other’s horse in any way.” He stopped counting to wag a finger. “There will be no cheating.” He held up his hand again and raised his ring finger. “Rule three—the first rider to touch the churchyard gatepost is the winner. And rule four—and this is the most important one—whoever loses is not allowed to murder the winner and bury their body in the woods to save face. If one of you doesn’t return, I shall personally call foul and then call the constable.” He folded his arms. “Do you both agree to these rules?”
They nodded.
“Good. Then if you are both ready, make your way to the pasture so we can get this childish debacle over with.” Bill had already set off.
“Shouldn’t we warm up our mounts first?” With a little drummer boy drumming away with enthusiasm in her head, Lottie needed a couplemore minutes of fresh air to feel ready. “We don’t want to do either of them a mischief.”
“Already done.” Guy regarded her wryly, as if he could hear what her drummer was drumming to. “Some of us were here bang on sunrise, after all, as stipulated.” Then he shot her a positively sinful smile before he leaned down with cupped hands to give her a boost. “Juno, Zeus, and I are all warmed up and raring to go.”
“Splendid.” Rather than let him see how inconvenient that was, Lottie grabbed the reins and hoisted herself up without his help. “Then may the best rider win.”
“I will,Miss Travers.”
She tried not to watch him mount Zeus, but because Guy’s muscles did wonderful things as he climbed onto a horse, she couldn’t help looking. Then looked some more as he led the way out of the stable yard because, honestly, his backside was a thing of beauty.
“It’s a mile and a half across mostly flat country to St. Eanswythe’s.” Bill pointed to the church’s steeple on the misty morning horizon. “And the ground is good, so hopefully, you’ll return in one piece. In case one of you doesn’t, know that I disapprove of this race, so expect no sympathy from me while the poor physician has to put you back together or if the undertaker has to lower your broken remains into your grave.”
“Duly noted,” said an impatient Guy. “Now can we get on with it?”
“Just one more thing.” Bill folded his arms and gave them both a stern look, but with a naughty twinkle in his eye. “Do you need me or one of the maids to follow behind for the sake of propriety?”
Guy gestured to her breeches-clad thighs with a snort. “I think that ship sailed when Miss Travers forgot to put on her skirt this morning, don’t you?”
“On your own heads be it then.” Bill winked as he herded them to the starting line he had marked with handfuls of straw and, once satisfied they were both level, raised his handkerchief in the air. “On your marks, get set…” He paused for dramatic effect as both riders bent low, then paused some more.“GO!”
