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Sassy looked around. “Where is your tiger?”
“Ah, on his way by stage to London.”
She said, obviously curious, “Oh?”
He smiled to himself and said, “Yes, you see when we made this trip we had not thought we would stay this long. In fact, just yesterday, we talked about returning to London next week.” He was surprised at the enormous gratification he felt when she looked at him sharply. He saw something in her eyes, those deep green eyes that spoke volumes. In spite of her cool rebuffs, she didn’t want him to leave. Interesting.
“But … I sense a but,” she said while touching the ring beneath her glove. She often touched it, he’d noticed. No doubt it was a sentimental gift from her parents. The ring stood out in his mind. Something about it caught his attention. He had seen that stone … but where, when?
“Indeed.” He smiled. “We sent him in a hired post chaise to fetch a few more things to allow us to extend our visit here.”
This left them with a comfortable silence as he noted Sassy watching him handle the reins. He felt his heart nearly burst idiotically when she remarked that she thought his hands quiet.
“A compliment, Miss Winthrop? Careful now—you don’t want to encourage me to think our relationship—whatever you may wish to call it—is improving.”
Sassy looked down at her hands, her cheeks red as she blushed and answered, “I-I simply stated a fact, my lord. I do not flatter people.”
“Do you know that you are the oddest woman I have ever come across? I am in a quandary as to whether you are an adorable innocent or an adventuress hoping to appear as one.”
* * *
Sassy couldn’t believe her ears. She knew that her mouth dropped as she turned to tell him in no uncertain terms what she thought of such a statement.
“I must take leave to tell you that your manners are insufferable. Adventuress? And am I supposed to find that at Netherby? I would have done better to stay with my Lady Margate and her odious son! An innocent? Faith, if my innocence hadn’t departed at the death of my dear mother, it was gone, all gone, when I lost my father, for all innocence was shattered then and thereafter! Do not dare to put me in a category, for I won’t stay there.”
During this diatribe, the marquis had pulled over to the side of the road, drawing his team and phaeton beneath the hangings of a large willow. “I quite agree,” he said softly. “You do not belong in a category, and you certainly don’t belong at Netherby.”
“Ah, I suppose you shall tell me then, just where I do belong?”
He could no longer restrain himself. He took her into his arms. “Here,” he whispered, “Like this …”
* * *
She gasped, for his meaning was not lost on her. He was asking her to be his mistress. She would have hauled off and slapped his face had he not had her ensconced neatly in his strong embrace.
Something happened then—her mana began whispering, soothing, urging her to take him, make him hers.
What? She couldn’t believe the voice in her head. What are you saying? Make him mine? How dare he do this … in broad daylight?
Her second thought as the voice of magic wound its way around her heart was, Ah … his arms … they feel so safe … so strong … so right.
Her third thought was, What am I doing? I am more than the magic inside me. I want more than … this!
Her fourth thought never found an opening to form, as his mouth was on hers, and then, then all she could do was feel.
Sensations charged through her body like a stampede of horses, waiting for nothing and not caring what was in their path. His mouth was on hers, his tongue made love to hers, and it was intoxicating and delicious beyond anything she had ever imagined.
His kiss exploded into another, and in that moment her magic took her body under its wing and guided her, whispering the answers to questions she didn’t know she had, revealing a portal of secrets her inner magic had only hinted at in the past. She was who she was, yes, but she was also a white witch, and that part of her deep inside wanted this one man, told her he was the one.
And even so, she was strong enough to break away and say in a quiet voice, “I know not what I have done to elicit such disrespect, my lord, or is this what you call friendship?”
The marquis frowned and inclined his head. “I beg your pardon. Please forgive me. My only excuse is I find you irresistible and tempting, and I beg you overlook my bad behavior. I certainly did not mean to offend you. I will not touch you again without your leave.”
“And is that what you expect,” she cried, “for me to give you leave?” It was exactly what her magic wanted her to do. She put up her chin, as angry with him as she was with herself, for she knew this was not all his fault. “If I were not alone in this world, you would not have taken such a liberty.”
“I think, my beauty, had you a father and ten brothers, I still would have forgotten myself and been moved to kiss your sweet lips, but I do promise you I shall not do so again, without your leave!”
She looked into his bright blue eyes, and that voice whispered again and again, You will give him leave, you will take him to your bed and make him your own. You will share him with no other, and your magic will be his, as his will be yours.
