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“If you say words of regret I shall plant you a facer.”
He faltered into stillness.
“Do you doubt that I can do it?” she demanded tightly.
“I recall with perfect clarity you dropping another gentleman on his arse,” he said drolly.
There was a throb of hurt in her voice he did not understand, nor did he want it to deepen. No words of regret would pass his lips to her.
“I am a woman, William.”
“I damn well know that, Pippa,” he said gruffly.
“I perfectly knew what I wanted, and I took it, William. I daresay you knew what you wanted too. I have no regrets or expectations.”
She turned around, gripped his shoulders, and hauled herself up his body wrapping those strong yet elegant legs around his hips. A brutal shock of arousal arrowed through his body at her provocative move. He quieted the desire, sensing this moment to be important to her, and she bloody well mattered to him. “No regrets, Pippa.”
She hugged him, burying her face in the curve of his neck, her breath a whisper of caress over his throat. Turning, careful not to trip over the blanket wedged between them, he walked with her inside the cottage, closing the door. William carried her to the bedchamber and bore her down on the bed, rolling to tuck her into his side. He would not take her again. While he would not regret their passion, he would not repeat their recklessness.
“Tell me stories about yourself,” she murmured sleepily. “I doubt it is yet noon, yet I am so tired.”
“Passion will do that.”
He felt the heat of her blushes.
“Well, I do not wish to sleep. Are you going to tell me a story or two?”
“There are too many. I have lived a long and varied life.”
“Oh, ancient one, I am certain thousands of stories have accrued.”
William laughed at her soft mockery, tugged her even closer to his body and regaled her with a few anecdotes of his time at university. They fell into a natural rhythm of laughing and sharing stories. Determined to be up and about, she went into the small parlor and read for the rest of the day, at times staring outside the small windows with a wistful look on her face as she observed the rain falling from the heavens. Her expression said she dreamed of something whimsical, and William wondered if he should dare ask her thoughts.
He joined her in reading his own book, wrinkling her nose when she saw it was a political tome. In the evening after eating the simple meal of mutton stew with potatoes, they played three rounds of chess before she stifled her yawning. When they retired to the bedroom, heated invitation glowed in her eyes, but William ruthlessly resisted until, trustingly, Pippa fell asleep, curved into his side. Though William felt a bit sleepy, he stayed awake for a long time, wondering what the hell should he do next. The only thing he was totally certain of, it was far too scandalous and dangerous to remain with her in this intimate space any longer.
“Pippa!”Agatha cried, hiking her skirts above her knees, and running toward their cantering horse.
William’s hand around Pippa’s waist tensed but he showed no other reaction that, in front of the duchess’s palatial home, several ladies and a few footmen had witnessed their return atop his stallion.
“I was not aware the duchess had these many guests at her home.”
Though his voice was carefully inscrutable, Pippa sensed that something bothered him. “Theo is hosting a small house party.”
“How many guests?”
“I would say twenty?”
A harsh curse slipped from him, and her heart lurched. “Everyone here is a friend, William.”
He said nothing to that assurance and unease crept down her spine. Earlier when he had said they would depart, she had not objected, sensing that after their passionate encounter their time alone in the cottage had ended. Their trek back to the duke’s estate had been mostly done in companionable silence as they navigated the overflooded riverbanks and the mud-logged roads. Pippa, however, had sensed that they might never see each other again. Though a wild grief had flashed through her and stung the backs of her eyes with tears, she had refused to feel any sort of sorrow. Their thrilling moment was hers to cherish for a lifetime, and she would not make anything as foolish as regret taint that memory.
“Let me dismount here, William,” Pippa said huskily, emotions tightening inside her chest.
He eased her from the horse with a gentle care that had a lump forming in her throat. Once she was steadied on the ground, she peered up at him. How she wished she could interpret the way he looked at her.Will you miss or long for me, William, she silently wondered. “Thank you, my lord; perhaps we shall see each other again about town.”
William looked at her for a moment, and his lips twisted in a curious smile. “Perhaps,” he murmured enigmatically.
Already knowing he was not a verbose gentleman, Pippa dipped into a curtsy, before turning away. When her heart tried to tear apart, she shored up her resolve. Harriet had dashed outside at Agatha’s cry, and she too ran toward Pippa, who was limping a little.
