Page 58 of Rogue’s Holiday

Bidding the king a good eve, they went on to exchange pleasantries with Sir Bellingham and his wife, Lady Graham. Sir Bellingham, an imposing figure in any clothes, was even more so in the black domino and half-mask, his tall figure an apparition come to haunt the ball. His wife, a pleasant woman, wore a subdued costume that reminded Robbie of a shepherdess.

They chatted briefly with the Grahams and then Robbie turned to Miss Reynolds. “We must dance at least one waltz.”

She smiled up at him. “I do love to dance.”

Taking their leave, Robbie swept her into his arms and twirled her about the room, joining in the others who were dancing. Never before had he enjoyed a waltz so much. She was weightless in his arms and followed his steps without missing a beat of the music. “You dance expertly, Miss Reynolds.”

“I should,” she said, “considering the time I spent with my French dancing instructor.”

“Should I be jealous?” he inquired.

“That would only be so if you had some claim on me, which we both know you do not.”

“As I said, I am a patient man. All in good time, my lady.”

She laughed at that, no doubt thinking he was jesting. He was not.

When the music stopped briefly, Robbie suddenly felt the heat of his costume. The wig, the jacket, the cloak, even the boots had become oppressive. “Shall we get some air?”

“That would be most welcome.”

“But first, let us get something to drink. I’m sure the king’s servants have put the icehouse to good use and whatever they are serving will be chilled.”

They indulged in a glass of iced champagne. Then, he found Lady Sanborn and told her they were just going into the gardens. “We will return shortly.”

Though the chaperone studied him closely, she gave her consent. “Not long, mind.”

Once outside the Pavilion, he guided Miss Reynolds to the green lawn and took a deep breath of the air that was laden with the remnants of rain and the breeze from the sea. The sweet smell was only enhanced by the flowery scent of his companion.

“Finally, we have escaped the heat and the noise,” she said.

The descending twilight now colored the sky lavender with streaks of gold, but Robbie could still see her slender form clothed in white. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little,” she admitted. “After so warm a room, I think it’s the change that has me shivering.”

He untied his cloak and set it about her shoulders. “There, this will keep you warm, unless, of course, you are reduced to shivering by my mere presence.”

“You are such a rogue,” she chided, the light from the Pavilion falling across her face.

“Do you know that when you are trying to be angry with me, your eyes become intensely blue? I noticed it that first night I kissed you at Grillon’s.”

“How despicable of you to recall that incident I have been trying to forget.”

“But you can’t forget it, can you?” A blush suffused her cheeks, giving him the satisfaction of having correctly judged her feelings. “Just as I thought,” he said. “Neither can I.”

He turned her cloaked shoulders toward him and drew her close, bending to kiss her. It was no light kiss, for the taste of her created in him an overpowering desire for more. She pressed her palms to his chest but did not push him away. Instead, she began to respond, her lips softening beneath his, kissing him back. Reaching her hands to the back of his neck, she held his head to her.

“There,” he said, breaking the kiss. “Now you see what lies between us.”

She removed her hands from his chest and took a step back. “I see nothing of the kind! And I did not give you permission to kiss me.”

He fought the urge to laugh. “No, I suppose you did not. Still, those eyes of yours told me you would welcome my kiss. And you did.” He reached for her. “Don’t fight me, Chastity.”

“You would seduce me?” she asked, incredulous.

“Nay, I would marry you! We belong together, you and I.”

“You are boldly presumptuous, sir!”