AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘I fail to understand why you would not wish to marry.’
‘I am two years younger than you and you are not married,’ she retorted. ‘I would like to go home now, it is becoming a trifle chilly.’
It was no such thing, but one did not contradict a lady. One could patronise her though, which was tempting if the lady in question was Laurel, and he could goad her into losing her temper and saying something revealing.
Giles offered his arm and said, with deliberate provocation, ‘But men may marry later and most do. We have other things in our lives beside family and we may father heirs into our sixties if we have to. For women that opportunity for a family is far shorter.’
As he expected, Laurel bristled at this. She was too good at hiding behind a façade when she was in control, he realised, but when her temper was roused the mask slipped. ‘Are you saying that a woman’s only purpose is to be a wife and mother and that anything else is a waste of time, whereas for men marriage is entirely secondary because you have a full and satisfying life anyway?’
‘Yes, that is it exactly,’ Giles said, heaping on the coals. He was not entirely sure he believed it himself, but seeing Laurel angry, flags of colour flying in her cheeks and her dark eyes glaring at him, was arousing and surprisingly tempting. He thought fleetingly of Beatriz, schooled in court etiquette, who was always perfectly poised and refined, until that evening when he had held her weeping, breaking her heart on his shoulder.
‘All I can say, Lord Revesby, is that you are a very good reason for not marrying—one would have to live with a man with attitudes like yours and that would be intolerable. I would be obliged if you would escort me home this minute.’
On impulse Giles took one of the side paths. If he remembered correctly from the map he had seen at the hotel, this led to the labyrinth.
‘I thought you were taking me home,’ she said, still bristling.
‘This is simply an alternative route,’ Giles said to soothe her suspicions. That was true enough. In the enclosed space of the garden all paths would, eventually, lead back to the entrance.
Her quick, irritated steps carried her along with him until he slowed and she looked around and saw they were on a narrow path bounded by tall close-clipped hedges.
‘No, it is not an alternative. This is the labyrinth. Now how do we get out of it?’
‘Do not be alarmed, Laurel, I will rescue you.’ Giles, tongue in cheek, somehow managed to keep his voice serious. This was working out very well and he realised he was beginning to enjoy himself.
‘Rescue, you beast?’ she demanded with a rapid descent into childhood abuse. He bit the inside of his lip to keep the smile off his face. ‘I have absolutely no need of rescue, I can get myself out.’ She shook off his hand, turned around and swept off back along the path, passing, he was pleased to see, the opening they had turned in on. If she had gone that way it would have taken alternating left and right turns and she would have been out.
Giles turned and carried on, alternating the turnings until he arrived in the centre. From the distance came the sound of a raised female voice uttering curses that became, to his ear, more and more unladylike as Laurel drew closer.
‘Over here,’ he called. ‘This way.’
* * *
Five minutes later Laurel arrived, bonnet askew, her hem trailing twigs, her face pink with what was probably a mixture of exercise and frustration.
‘I told you I would rescue you. And you are not chilly any more either.’
‘Oh, you—’ She marched up and delivered a thump with a clenched fist in the middle of his chest. ‘I could hit you!’
‘You just have,’ he pointed out. And kissed her.
She gave a little gasp of surprise against his lips, which was curiously arousing, and stepped back sharply. Giles told himself to let her go, that this had been a mistake and he should apologise. And then she moved back, put her arms around his neck, knocking off his hat in the process, and kissed him.
Chapter Eight
It was a more accomplished kiss than Giles had been expecting and he adjusted his expectations rapidly, even as he gathered her in against his body with one hand and untied her bonnet ribbons with the other. Laurel was not experienced, but she was a grown woman, not some adolescent innocent, and her body knew what it wanted, even if she had presumably always been too ladylike to act on those urgings.
She started in surprise when he slid his tongue between her lips, but she did not move away, or even, as he was braced for, bite him. Her own tongue moved cautiously to meet his, a touch that spoke of trust and curiosity and the promise of future sensuality.
Giles pushed her bonnet clean off her head and speared his hand through her hair at her nape, releasing the scent of rosemary rinse and warm woman. Warm woman who wanted him at that moment as much as he wanted her. That knowledge was almost more powerfully erotic than the feel of her curves against him or the taste of her on his tongue. And he must stop. This was too much, too soon.
It seemed that Laurel had come to the same conclusion and that her will was less fogged with desire than his was, because she uncoiled her arms from around his neck and blinked up at him, bemused and indignant. ‘Giles, I had absolutely no intention of... I cannot imagine why I—Oh, for goodness’ sake! Why on earth are we kissing each other?’
‘Because whatever our minds are telling us, our bodies want something different,’ he suggested, shaken. He was going to marry Laurel because he had to, not because he loved her or thought they would have an easy or happy marriage. Finding himself aroused and aching over sharp-tongued Laurel Knighton was as baffling as it was surprising.
But she is very lovely now, he told himself. Those deep brown eyes, the rich brown hair, the elegant line of neck and shoulder. Very desirable.
The thought of mellowing that sharp edge with kisses and more was...tempting.
