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“Well, maybe just —”
Helen was interrupted by the slight press of his lips on hers. The darkness and his thick scent covered her, a soft shroud enveloping her senses. She always imagined Jack’s lips to be hard and unforgiving, to take her roughly without caution.
But this man’s kiss was soft and tender — a beautiful kiss. Helen moaned, and she felt the man’s tongue slip into her mouth. He tasted like champagne and sweet cake, a mix of masculinity and tenderness that made Helen weak in the knees. She shook with desire as heat filled every part of her body. It was nothing like she imagined.
She kissed him back tenderly, pushing her soft body into his hard frame. In return, the man cradled her, running fingers through her hair. Pins clattered onto the grass, and her hair cascaded down her back, tickling her skin.
“Your Grace!” Someone shouted from another side of the garden, and the sound of approaching footsteps rang through the night.
The man pulled away, and for the faintest second, Helen saw the deepest blue in his eyes. The darkness was still all around them, making it almost impossible to see him, but the suspense only added to the giddiness she felt. It made her mind go awry, her body ablaze.
“I must go,” he said. “My attention is needed elsewhere.”
Helen wanted to pull him toward herself and lose herself in the intimacy they just shared. “Elsewhere? What do you mean?”
“Your Grace,” an older man called out, stumbling to their side, “I have been looking all over the house for you. Her Grace seeks your attention…”
Helen stumbled back into the darkness, hoping the lights were far enough away to conceal her. She wondered how it might look, caught with a man in the darkness. And without a chaperone. Eyes wide and blood cold, she snuck closer to the hedge.
The man straightened his clothes and turned to face the older man. “My grandmother wants to sap me of every ounce of strength. A troublesome old woman.”
Helen’s eyebrows furrowed in surprise as she tried to make sense of what she heard. The man she just kissed was the Duke of Wallington! But like the wind, he was gone before she could speak.
ChapterFive
Slowly, Helen eased herself back to reality. The air suddenly felt colder, rawer, and it caressed her skin. Her thoughts were in the clouds, simmering just at the edge of her consciousness. She could still feel his hands in her hair, fingers tickling her cheeks.
The Duke of Wallington.
As their footsteps receded, Helen was still trying very hard to wrap her head around the situation. She thought of the man as some random stranger, maybe a marquess that was invited to the ball, but she had just kissed the notorious Duke of Wallington.
Giddy with excitement, she bent to pick up the pins that had fallen from her hair before trudging further into the gardens. The ambrosial scent of jasmine and roses serenaded her from all sides, filling her mind with pleasant memories.
Helen suddenly missed the comfort of the Duke’s body, even though they were together for a few moments. She dragged in breath after breath, her heart racing wildly. Recalling the Duke’s body against hers, the tenderness of his lips, the softness by which his hand traveled all around her sent her senses reeling.
The deeper she ventured into the gardens, the blurrier her thoughts became. All thoughts of Jack Whitticombe were gone. Even though she had not fully seen his face in the darkness, the Duke’s face was the only thing on her mind. Helen shifted the voluminous folds of her dress to take a seat by the fountain. The sound of gurgling water calmed her mind, but it did not take away the shivers that flooded her.
“Are you cold?” A voice whispered from the darkness, warm and inviting. Helen shook her head, knowing that the shivers came from her thoughts, the desire flooding her mind. Even the cold air could not compare to the feelings that stomped around in the pit of her stomach.
Soon, she felt a hand on hers. It was smooth, tracing circles on her gloved hands. Without a moment’s respite, Helen jerked her hand away from the stranger.
“Excuse me, sir. Who are you?” she asked, scooting away from the fountain.
“What is a lady like you doing this deep in the gardens? And without a chaperone?” the stranger replied a little too sweetly.
Because it was a ball of theton, Helen figured that the man was a member of the peerage and of good standing in society, but the darkness that engulfed them only made her jittery. Suddenly, Kate’s warnings rang in her head. If she were caught this far in the gardens with a stranger and no chaperone in sight, her reputation would be ruined.
“I…came for some fresh air,” she replied, inching slowly back the way she came. Still shrouded by the darkness, the stranger nodded wistfully. Helen could not see his face, and neither did she recognize the voice. Her mind searched every bachelor she had danced with at the ball, filtering through their voices.
“I have to get back,” she said when the stranger did not reply. She faked a shiver as if the cold was troubling her. Her mind did not feel at peace with the man that was ensconced in the darkness.
Helen turned around quickly, grateful that the petticoats under the dress weren’t so heavy that she could not move well. Instead of the poised steps she had been taught by Miss Harrington, she took long, sweeping strides with her hair billowing behind her.
Strong hands gripped her shoulders from behind and pulled her into the darkness again. Helen struggled against the stranger, pushing back with all her might, but he was definitely stronger. Her throat became dry from the overwhelming fear that snaked through her veins. Even her voice was gone, leaving apprehension bubbling in her chest.
She became pressed to his body, feeling his hands on her bosom. It made her stomach churn. Helen tried to wriggle free from his grasp, pushing, turning, and straining, but the stranger’s hands held her in place.
“Stay still,” he growled, his voice menacing.
