Page 49 of The Duke’s Hidden Duchess

He directed her towards the rise, where a small stone folly overlooked the valley. They reached it soaked to the knees and laughing with the breathless absurdity of people who had been thoroughly defeated by the weather.

The folly consisted of a single round chamber, open on one side to the view. A stone bench followed the inner wall, and the pale flags still held the warmth of the morning. Beyond the opening, rain swept across the river and bent the trees along the bank.

Selina pushed the wet hair away from her face and went to watch the storm. Her cloak had admitted the rain at the shoulders. She wrung out one fold and heard Nathaniel come to stand behind her.

“It may be some time,” he said. “I should have watched the sky.”

“You are usually better at watching things.”

“I have been distracted.”

She turned her head slightly. “By the cob?”

“No.”

The answer settled between them.

Nathaniel stood an arm’s length away, his coat darkened by the rain and his hair wet across his forehead. He made no attempt to lessen the distance.

Selina looked back towards the river. “You covered my hand; that day at the park.”

“Yes.”

“You wanted to kiss me in the conservatory.”

“I did.”

“And now you have arranged three lessons in a phaeton.”

“I begin to see that they were not as subtle as I imagined.”

“They were not subtle at all.” She turned to face him. “You told me that if anything changed between us, the choice would be mine as much as yours.”

“It will.”

“Then why do you look as though you are waiting for a verdict?”

“Because I am.”

The rain beat against the open side of the folly. Water had begun to run over the threshold in a thin shining line.

Selina had spent years recognising what men wanted from her before they named it. Desire generally arrived disguised as kindness, opportunity or rescue, and the disguise was expected to make refusal ungrateful. Nathaniel stood before her wanting plainly and offering nothing in exchange for permission.

“You may kiss me,” she said, “if you are still waiting to be asked.”

For a moment he did not move.

Then he crossed the distance between them and lifted his hands to her face. His palms were cold against her cheeks and not entirely steady. He gave her enough time to turn away.

She did not.

His mouth met hers with a care that was almost unbearable. The kiss was warm despite the rain, restrained despite the tension she could feel in his hands. Then, much too soon, he drew back.

His hands remained against her face.

“Was that…”

“Insufficient,” Selina said.