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Though the night was warm, she felt gooseflesh rising on her arms and held herself for warmth. She was surprised to look back to Michael to find his smile soft and tender.
“And so, you thought I was the most willing culprit?”
“I thought the lie was harmless enough. You never attend the Assemblies, so if people believed it for just a few more weeks, one of us could be married before the truth came out.”
“It does seem that you’re in a very dire situation,” he said. “Perhaps, I could be of assistance in some way.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, surprised but skeptical.
He took a step closer to her, putting a warm hand on her bare arm. She almost recoiled from the contact, but she could not help but admit that she wanted him to touch her.
“I must confess, I had wished to punish you for your wicked lie. However, hearing how vulnerable you and your sisters are, perhaps I could allow you to perpetuate this lie for a little longer.”
She gazed up at him, wide eyed. “You mean, you would play along?”
He shrugged. “What could it harm? The Season will only last another month. If it helps either you or your sisters secure an advantageous match, what harm is there for me?”
Relief flooded through her but remembering the looks he gave her on the Assembly floor, she looked at him skeptically. She squinted at him, asking, “You don’t wish for anything in return, do you?”
Laughing, he said, “Good heavens, no, I’m not blackmailing you.”
“Good,” she sighed, then arched her eyebrow at him again. “Why would you help us? You were so angry about my lie. I should owe you for that alone.”
“Perhaps, I would like you to owe me,” he smiled, stepping closer to her yet again. His coat brushed the skirt of her dress and she could feel the warmth of him near her.
Looking up at him wide-eyed, she gulped. “Your Grace, this is a terribly compromising situation.”
He traced his fingers down her bare arm, making her regret not wearing gloves. She tilted her face up to him, watching the soft flesh of his lips. Seeing the detail of his skin up close, she wondered what it would be like to kiss a man, to kiss Michael. The gooseflesh on her skin prickled more obviously where he touched her.
“You intrigue me,” he whispered, his voice husky. “You are so innocent, so naïve, yet so, incredibly, wicked-”
“Your Grace,” she pleaded in a hoarse whisper.
He brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers, but slowly, sensually. The seconds felt like minutes. She let out a quick breath, unrestrained, shocked. His hand still lay on her arm, but his fingers tightened around her.
“Your Grace,” she asked again, barely able to hold back from reaching out to him any longer.
He took a dramatic step back, as though he was shocked at his own actions. “You are right, my lady. I apologize. I should not proposition you so.”
“You didn’t answer me, though,” she pointed out, clearing her throat. The space between them allowed her to be bold again in her questioning. “Do you only wish to seduce me, now, in return for helping me and my sisters?”
“No,” he replied briskly, almost too quickly. “My own uncle has been nagging me to marry and produce an heir, as well. If he thinks I am engaged, I might have some respite for a while. Perhaps, I could even convince him I have a broken heart after we break off our engagement.”
She laughed genuinely. “Then, we have an accord, Your Grace. A fake engagement for our mutual benefit.”
He offered his hand to her. “Shall I escort you back to the Assembly, before your reputation is thoroughly ruined at being found in the gardens alone with a rake?”
“My betrothed rake,” she teased, taking his hand.
“Let us go show off to the entire Assembly that we are, indeed, engaged.”
Feeling her hand in his, she found her nervousness fading. His hand was strong, warm, and reassuring. Guiding her back to the hall, they returned to the Assembly without being seen. When they stepped through the doors, she felt all eyes on them. The tone of women gossiping behind fans suddenly changed from skeptical scandal to wide-eyed astonishment. Lydia could see the jealous look in the other young women’s faces. Even her own sisters were staring in shock. Seeking out her mother, she was happy to find her mother looking on proudly.
A man pushed his way through the throng, as though he was unaware of the tense moment the rest of the Assembly was experiencing. Ashcroft approached her, looking nervously at Michael. “My lady, I had hoped you would still dance the last set with me.”
She looked up to Michael. “Your Grace, I had hoped you would not mind.”
Michael offered her hand to Mr. Ashcroft. “Please, enjoy. I am not a jealous man.”
Mr. Ashcroft nodded with a relieved smile, taking Lydia’s hand to lead her to the dance floor.
Before she turned away though, Michael added, “And Lady Lydia, I shall call on you later this week.”
