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“Looking for you.”
He looked behind him again. He caught her arm and tugged her with him off the path and through an arch draped with climbing roses. They came out in a flower garden, carefully maintained beds delineated by white stone paths. Not letting go of her arm, he marched her across to the other side, away from the entrance. Beside the bench there, he released her and turned to face her.
“You cannot wander gardens at night looking for me, Your Grace.”
His tone held exasperation, perhaps even anger, but his eyes roved over her, seeming almost to glow.
“You weren’t at the Temple of the Muses. You promised.”
Ellie contained a wince. She sounded like a child, not a Duchess, but she was neither.
“I did not promise.”
Her hands found her hips. “You as good as. You didn’t even send a note. I waited for nearly two hours.”
He grimaced and pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I apologise. I should have left a note.”
“Was it something very important?” she asked, hoping it was. Nothing too dire, of course, but important enough so that him choosing it over her didn’t mean she was unimportant.
“It was… I…”
He fell silent, staring at her. His attention fixed on her mouth.
Ellie studied him in the moonlight. Her breath quickened. Would he kiss her, here, in this garden that smelled like turned earth and roses? She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.
“Don’t look at me that way,” he whispered.
“What way?”
A large hand cupped her cheek, his thumb sliding across her skin.
“As if I am the only man in existence.”
“Aren’t you?” Ellie breathed.
His mouth covered hers, sending heat shooting through her. Ellie clutched his coat, trying to draw him closer. She’d never been kissed before, but somehow she knew the more of her body she pressed to his, the more wonderful it would be.
He groaned, releasing her. She pulled on his coat, trying to bring him back to her, but he tugged away.
He stared down at her, his face rendered mysterious by moonlight. “We cannot. You know we cannot.”
“I do?” Ellie asked, confused. Their kiss had seemed very nice to her, and quite an easy thing to do.
“You would so easily betray your husband? You would ask me to cuckold a man? A peer of the realm?”
Relief and hope bubbled in her.
“That is what stays you?” She shook her head. Of course it was. “I should have realised. I didn’t intend… that is, I meant to tell you, as soon as I felt certain of how you feel, and how I feel, but then you didn’t come to meet me, and I saw you tonight, and I was angry and confused and, I’m not married.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, appearing as confused as she’d been.
“I’m not Lizzy May. That is, Elizabeth May Mclintock, Duchess of Aspen. I’m her twin sister, Ellie. I’ve been pretending to be her because she’s not feeling well.” Which wasn’t the whole truth, but based on his stunned expression, probably about as much of the truth as he needed for the time being. When he didn’t speak, Ellie hastened to add, “Surely, you’ve read in the gossip sheets that the Duchess has a twin sister?”
He nodded, the movement slow.
“Three sisters. Older, younger, and her twin.”
Ellie smiled. “Exactly, and I’m that twin. Ellie Anne Ellsworth.”
