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She leaned down to pat her horse. “I guessed right?”
“You did indeed. It will be more private than the church.”
“Definitely in its favor.” She slid to the ground before he could dismount and help her. More was the pity. “You know, I almost had kittens when Paul tried the door.”
“Kittens? That’s nothing. Mine were elephants and rhinos.” He jumped down and crossed to tie his horse to the railing beside the pretty little structure with its Corinthian columns and glass domed roof.
“One would never guess.” Serena followed, leading her mare. “You handled him so cleverly.”
Giles wasn’t so sure Paul believed his newfound interest in funerary monuments. “At least I kept you out of harm’s way.”
“Thank you.”
“You know, you’re a quick learner.” He turned to her. “If you kiss old Paul the way you kissed me, he’ll be putty in your hands. You can start choosing your bridesmaids.”
Flicking her crop against her gloved palm, she studied him. “Are you trying to avoid another lesson?”
No, he was trying to do the right thing. However belated. However halfhearted. “No. But I’m not sure Paul would see that all this is purely for his benefit.”
Dear God, shut the hell up. He’d spent nearly twenty years, wanting to kiss Serena Talbot. Yesterday she’d taken him as close to heaven as he was likely to get. But he couldn’t bear to think she might regret what they did.
“My conscience is clear.” She paused. “It would be different if Paul and I had reached an understanding. Then I’d be betraying a promise. But as things are, I’m as free to kiss you as Paul.”
Giles frowned. There was some flaw in her reasoning. But every time she said the word “kiss,” she chipped away at his capacity for rational thought.
“You’re thinking too much, Giles.” She took his gloved hand. “It’s a bad habit.”
By God, it was. Here he was alone with Serena, and he wasted time worrying about his rival.
He led her up the shallow steps into the temple. The building was open to the elements, and it was as cold inside as out. Perfect for a warm summer day. Perishing a few days before Christmas.
She released his hand. “I’m willing to proceed with our lessons. Are you?”
“I’m a man, my dear.” He swept off his hat and tossed it toward the stone bench encircling the octagonal room. He missed. Who cared? “I’m always ready to kiss a pretty girl.”
“Does that include Letty?”
He frowned. His brain really was slow today. “What in Hades has Miss Duggan to do with anything?”
The winter dawn flooded the space with pallid light, revealing his beloved with breathtaking clarity. The pink in Serena’s cheeks deepened, as she took off her hat and set it and her crop on the black and white tiles. “You seemed to like her last night.”
“She’s a nice girl, and a treat for the eye.” He frowned, still puzzled by the conversation’s turn, before he caught a flash of chagrin in Serena’s bright silver gaze.
By God, she was jealous. Of Giles Farraday.
Perhaps his case wasn’t as hopeless as he thought.
Renewed optimism made him smile down at her with untrammeled delight. He’d chosen this devious course with the frail hope of diverting her interest in Paul. Jealousy was an encouraging sign. Very encouraging indeed.
“Then perhaps you should kiss her instead,” Serena said sharply, putting the lie to her words by stripping off her gloves and tossing them down with visible vexation.
Giles’s first impulse was to fling himself at her feet and declare that only one woman held his heart. But he hadn’t wasted his years in London, and he knew better than to discard the advantages this unexpected development brought. With a languor designed to taunt, he removed his own gloves and pushed them into his pocket. “She hasn’t asked for my kisses.”
“I’m sure she will,” she sniped.
“What a delightful prospect,” Giles drawled. “But something for future consideration. At present, you’re here, and Miss Duggan isn’t.”
She didn’t look pleased. Which pleased him. Right now, Paul held no place in her thoughts. “You really are a rake.”
