Page 26 of This Marquess of Mine

Chapter Nine

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Olivia,” the Duke of Paxton whispered. “We could be seen.”

Ignoring his objections, Olivia herded him toward the rear doors with another tug on his immaculately tailored coat sleeve. “Lady Chavel is renowned for her roses, and I want to see them for myself,” she said, “but I don’t want to go alone. We’ll only be a few minutes. No one will even notice we’ve gone.”

With a resigned sigh, Paxton followed her lead and the two slipped from the ballroom, making their way into the darkened gardens beyond.

“This is not a good idea,” Paxton grumbled. “My mother would not approve.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but said nothing. Honestly, she was afraid of what she might say if she did speak. She loved the respect and adoration Paxton showed his mother, but sometimes she thought it was a little too much, especially for a grown man, not to mention a duke.

Lady Paxton was a formidable woman, yes, but she wasn’t Paxton’s keeper. He should be able to make his own decisions once in a while.

Thisdecision, however, to visit Lady Chavel’s rose garden, was all Olivia’s doing. Inspired by a certain marquess’s impertinent questions.

Because despite what she’d said to him last night at the opera, Griffin was right. It was odd that Paxton hadn’t kissed her yet, and she’d thought of little else since.

She’d had her fair share of kisses times, shared with several different men—a few of whom had even tried to steal a kiss the first night they’d met—but she’d known Paxton for months now and he’d made not a single attempt.

Whyhadn’t he kissed her yet? He was attracted to her, she knew that. So why did he not kiss her? Was he afraid of offending her?

She hadn’t a clue what he was thinking, but she’d decided the time had come to take matters into her own hands. There was nothing else to be done. If he wouldn’t kiss her, she would simply have to kiss him.

“Oh, look,” she breathed, pointing to the gardens beyond. “There they are. Don’t they smell simply divine?” She inhaled deeply, the sweet floral scent delighting her nose.

Paxton sneezed. “Oh, yes. Divine.” He sniffled.

“The moon is so bright tonight,” she said, gazing up at the sky, determinedly ignoring the snuffles and snorts from beside her. She tipped her head to catch the moonlight on one cheek and peered up at him through her lashes. “Quite lovely, isn’t it?”

He blinked, his gaze dipping to her mouth. “Erhm…”

She leaned in just a hair, not so much as to be the instigator, but enough to signal that she would not rebuff his advances should he choose to make any.

Paxton’s eyes were fixed on her lips, uncertainty warring with desire, and the silence stretched into absurdity.

Olivia leaned in another hair, close enough now to catch a whiff of his musky cologne, and she gave him a smile, soft and encouraging.

Kiss me, you idiot. Kiss me now.

But the kiss never came.

His head snapped up and he cleared his throat before taking a step toward the house. “Come, Olivia, you’ve seen the roses. Let’s go back inside before our absence is noted.”

Suppressing a frown, Olivia waved a hand in the air. “You go on,” she said brightly. “I’d like to stay for a few more minutes and enjoy the night air. I’ll be along in a moment.”

Her words were in direct contradiction to her earlier claim that she did not wish to venture into the gardens alone, but she didn’t care. She was too irritated to return to the party just yet, so she sent Paxton on his way with the assurance she would join him shortly.

She watched him go before turning to face the garden, a frustrated sigh slipping from her lips. What a debacle that had been.

Why was Paxton so reluctant to kiss her? He seemed to want to and yet, something was holding him back. But what?

Restless, she moved deeper into the gardens, passing through the rows of roses toward the long, dense hedgerow, the only sounds the soft crunch of her slippers on the gravel path and the hum of crickets singing their evening song.

What was she doing wrong? Why did he not wish to kiss her? It might sound conceited, but she was used to men desiring her. She’d heard enough compliments on her eyes and lips and charming ways to know that men found her attractive, and id given the chance, were more than eager to claim a kiss.

Except Griffin, of course.

And, apparently, Paxton. The man she hoped to marry.