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Arabella swallowed, heart hammering in her chest as she processed the statement. But then, she reminded herself, he’d used pretty words on her before. There was no reason to trust him, even if his eyes seemed to envelop her with dark, intense sincerity. Was it her, or was he a step closer than before? “I don’t believe you,” she charged, her voice barely a whisper over the morning breeze.
“Believe this, then,” he muttered back, ducking his head and taking her lips before she could even form a coherent thought.
* * *
This was, possibly, the most foolish thing he had done in a long time, Nathan mused as he lowered his head to kiss Miss Hughs in the middle of a ruined castle where Lockhart and Miss Balfour might come upon them at any moment. Half of him hoped she might shove him away and thwart this impulsive move, but Miss Hughs stayed firmly planted in place as his mouth landed on hers. What had compelled him, Nathan did not know. Perhaps his frustrations at her refusal to believe him, or even seeing those ruby red lips curl so enticingly as she sneered at his attempted overtures, had played a role, but the reason hardly mattered now. A shiver stole through him at the feel of her soft lips, a slither of heat that snaked its way down his spine and thrummed in his blood. Goodness, they weren’t even kissing properly, and he was this riled up. He needed to stop before things got out of hand. But all reason fled when Miss Hughs touched her palm to his chest and, rather than shove as he’d expected, leaned further into him. Nathan cupped her face in his hand and slanted his mouth to fit more snugly against her lips. Her palm pushed more, fingers curling into his waistcoat and searing the skin beneath. Her nails dug into his chest and the sensation was enough to jar him back into sense. He pulled himself away with a sudden lurch and took two large steps back, at a loss for words to explain what the hell he had just done.
Miss Hughs remained in place, taking him in with wide eyes. She held a hand to her chest, her breath coming in quick bursts. “Your Grace…”
He winced at the title. Somehow, after what had just transpired, it sounded wrong coming from her lips. “Milton, please.”
“Milton,” she corrected and then fell silent. Her eyes roved everywhere but over him, her hand still clutching the loose ribbons of her bonnet to her chest.
Feeling like twice the cad, he held out a hand. “Miss Hughs, I—”
“Arabella?” a familiar voice called from the other side of the ruins. “Are you here?”
Miss Hughs took a visible swallow, inhaling before calling in a calm, clear voice. “One moment, Cecily. I am coming.” She returned her attention to him, all traces of earlier distress replaced by irritation. “You need to go,” she mouthed. Grassy footsteps grew closer, Miss Balfour’s voice mingling with that of another woman’s over the wind.
The situation was dire, and Nathan could only nod and hurry away from the scene. He ducked behind a wall just as Miss Balfour and the other woman emerged from the other side. Miss Hughs conversed with them, her voice calm, as if the explosive scene a mere minute ago hadn’t happened. Nathan could only hope that the two women hadn’t seen Highwind tied to a nearby tree. Lockhart would not show, that much was obvious if he was this late. The idiot had likely overslept and forgotten.
It wasn’t until he’d mounted Highwind and was well on his way back to the manor that the frantic energy thrumming through him abated enough to allow Nathan to relax. With the excitement of the kiss and their near discovery finally waning, he was able to take a moment to think things rationally. His attraction to Miss Hughs was no surprise. He just hadn’t expected it to hit him with such force after having only known her for a few days. When that initial interest had turned into pure lust, he had no idea, but the reality could not be denied. The real question was whether to do anything about it.
He thought for a moment, envisioned embarking on a proper courtship. Her lack of respect for his title was refreshing, her forthright nature putting him at ease. There was nothing contrived in their interactions, no games being played beneath the surface conversation. Her family was respectable, her understated beauty undeniable, and their mothers were old friends. He was certain the concerning rumors about her were false. Everything lined up, and there was no reason not to consider her.
Except for one, of course.
The fuzzy warmth that had been sneaking through him as he listed all the reasons to court Miss Hughs fizzled away as he remembered her face after their kiss. He’d distressed her, disgusted her, and more than likely offended her, making it clear that his advances were not only ill-warranted, but entirely unwanted. Before, he’d thought she might feel a sliver of attraction for him. She watched him so much and became so flustered around his person that he couldn’t think of any other reason. But, perhaps he’d imagine things and his own feelings had tricked him into seeing this odd bond forming between them. No, it made far more sense that Miss Hughs wanted nothing to do with him, and why would she? He was using her in a bet to win a bloody horse, after all.
For the first time since beginning this whole adventure, the callousness of the bet hit him. It seemed so harmless in the beginning but, thinking on it, the potential for hurt was obvious. He slowed Highwind to a walk as the house loomed and eyed the approaching stables with a sinking stomach. Since when had he allowed his moral character to be compromised over something as frivolous as a racehorse?
“I’m being a bastard, aren’t I?” He said with a pat on Highwind’s neck. The horse only snorted in reply, as if agreeing with the sentiment. The stallion was extra grumpy with his hay once Nathan put him away, and it was amusing enough to cheer him from his souring mood. Perhaps Miss Hughs and Bellona were both a lost cause, but he wouldn’t despair. There were plenty of young ladies out there he had yet to meet. Surely one of them would stir him in the same way as Miss Hughs had. He just needed to apply himself more rigorously to the search. Feeling optimistic, Nathan headed into the house. A destination in mind, he made a beeline for the stairs and passed his chambers. He stopped in front of a door further down the hall and rapped on the wood with a polite knock. A muted grumble answered the question of Lockhart’s location this morning. Upon opening the door, Nathan found the baron sprawled on the bed, still wearing his evening clothes from the previous night. “Good God, man. Tell me you didn’t get foxed all by yourself last night?”
Lockhart cracked open one shadowed eye. “That you, Milton?” He sat up on his elbows with a bleary scan of the room. “Oh, hell. Is it morning already? I must have fallen asleep.”
“Drinking into oblivion might not be out of character, but surely even you wouldn’t do such at a respectable house party.” Nathan sat on the edge of the bed and gave Lockhart’s shin a light punch. “We had an appointment, you dunderhead. I waited like an idiot for nearly an hour up at those ruins.” And had an explosive rendezvous with Miss Hughs. But Nathan wasn’t quite ready to share that tidbit with anyone, if ever.
Lockhart yawned and sat up fully. “I wasn’t drinking. I was thinking.”
“About?”
“Nothing, really.”
“Nothing kept you up all evening to the point of sleeping in your dinner clothes?”
Lockhart must have sensed the concern in Nathan’s tone, for he waved a dismissive hand in response. “I’m fine. It’s a silly matter, really.” He stretched. “Did you run into the ladies at the ruins?”
Nathan frowned. “How did you know they would be there?” He recalled last night’s dinner where Miss Hughs and Miss Balfour chatted whilst Lockhart sulked to the side. A thought struck him. “You overheard their plans last night.”
“I had hoped to spend some time with Miss Balfour and thought the presence of others would shield me from her venom.”
“What happened to make her hate you so?”
Lockhart shrugged. “She hates everything I stand for and thinks of me as a stain on her perfect, moral little world.”
There was a bite to the baron’s words that told him there was more to the story, but Nathan knew when not to pry. He wondered if last night’s contemplations had anything to do with the woman. “You seem to have the hardest task out of all of us.”
“And don’t I know it.” Lockhart hauled his legs over the side. “Speaking of which, how goes your task?”
