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“Oh, howevershall a future Marquess find a bride?” Lady Marcella asked, with an expression of mock surprise. “Why, you’re so utterly unmarriageable, I haven’t the faintest idea how you’ll survive.”
“I should like to be married quickly. Finding appropriate suitors takes time.” Seeing Lady Marcella’s expression grow guarded, Reginald hastened to add, “I do agree with you, though, on the matter of the marriage license. You should’ve been consulted beforehand.”
“But you do wish to marry me,” Lady Marcella said.
“Did I give you the impression that I didn’t?”
The lady’s expression was thoughtful. Her lips pursed together. Reginald’s mouth became dry as he thought ofat leasttwo other uses for that lovely mouth. “No, you never did,” she replied. “I suppose I just assumed that you would be as hesitant to marry me as I am to marry you.”
“I think I’m getting the better half of the bargain,” he said, trying to focus on the conversation. “As a Marquess, I’ll be able to help those in need all the more. I can right all the injustices I see in the world.”
Lady Marcella sighed. “Don’t do that. Then, you sound like them.”
“Like whom?”
She tossed her stone lightly into the brook and turned away from it. “Like every other lord I’ve ever met. They always promise to do grand things. Noble things.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“I know you don’t.”
Reginald glanced to the trees. Phillip was somewhere in them, waiting by the horses. It might be difficult for him to see the lady through the tree cover and the rain, which was beginning to fall at a steadier pace. And all this, combined with the feeling that he’d just fallen out of Lady Marcella’s good graces, made Reginald very bold, indeed.
“Then I should do something that no other lord would,” he said, making his voice low and husky.
Lady Marcella turned her head towards him, her coral lips slightly parted. “And what would that be?”
Her voice was cold and formal, but her eyes burned with the most brilliant curiosity. When Reginald approached her, Lady Marcella’s lips curved slightly upwards, and her face grew flushed. She looked as though she was anticipating a challenge. A raindrop traced a path over the thin bridge of her nose and fell onto her lips.
Reginald felt his throat grow tight, and he lowered his head, leaning close to Lady Marcella. Her eyes narrowed, glittering in the waning light. Reginald’s pulse quickened, as he tilted his head. His chest tightened, and a powerful surge of longing rushed through his frame. He wanted to touch her, to curl his fingers in that damp, glossy hair. He yearned to reach beneath her cloak and to trace his hands along those slender curves.
“Are you doing what I think you are?” Lady Marcella asked, her breath audibly hitching.
Reginald chuckled, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Only if you’d like me to,” he said softly. “It’s your choice. How bold are you? How adventurous?”
Her pink lips pursed tightly together. Reginald was unsure whether she might kiss him or slap him, and he’d have accepted either. Then, those fair lips parted just a little. The lady’s eyes widened, and she tilted her head. They remained there, scarcely an inch apart, for what felt to Reginald like an eternity. The raindrop clinging to Lady’s Marcella’s lips slipped down her chin and out of sight.
Reginald blinked rainwater from his eyes, and then, Lady Marcella’s lips were pressed lightly against his. He inhaled sharply, drawing in the smells of freshly fallen rain, of the woods, and of Lady Marcella, who smelled of orange blossoms. His hands instinctively curled in her hair, and he pulled her close, kissing her hungrily. A small gasp escaped those pink lips, and Lady Marcella melted beneath his touch.
“Oh, My Lord…” she murmured.
Emboldened, he brought his hands lower. He reached beneath her cloak, and her breath hitched. The lady’s gown looked so thin, as he exposed it to the elements. Reginald knew the raindrops would make the fabric nearly translucent. He traced his palms over her waist and hips, and the lady gasped.
Lady Marcella drew away. She put a delicate hand to her chest, looking scandalized.
Would she bolt? She looked a bit like a startled deer. “My Lord, that—that was most improper,” she said, her voice throaty and strange.
“So it was. I apologize if I offended.”
Color rose to the lady’s cheeks, and her eyes sparkled. “Think nothing of it,” Lady Marcella said. “We shall not speak of it again.”
Not speak of it? But even as he looked at her, Reginald felt the fierce urge to embrace her and let their lips meet again, even as the rain fell all around them. His blood seemed to burn so hotly for Lady Marcella that he did not even acknowledge the presence of cold. For a moment, they stared at one another. Slowly, Lady Marcella reached beneath her cloak. Reginald saw the movement of her hand, seemingly tracing the same path he had.
“I’ve never felt…” she trailed off. “Have you touched another woman like that?”
“Only in my thoughts,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve looked at many women before, but I’ve never felt the inclination to do anything more.”
“Why not?”
