A Lady of Persuasion (The Wanton Dairymaid Trilogy #3)

Toby felt his grin fading. He’d never made that speech to anyone else. The crown of ivy nonsense, countless times—but never that speech. Those words were for her alone.

“You do realize I’ve already married you?” she asked. “And here you are pulling out all your best tricks. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. What an astute question she posed. Why, indeed? Out of habit? Simply for sport?

No. No, it was because he knew—they both knew—he might have stolen her away from Gray, wedded and bedded her, even rescued her from certain peril, but he hadn’t yet engaged her heart. He, who had female hearts flung at him with all the frequency, and velocity, of cricket balls—hadn’t secured the adoration of his own wife.

And she was his wife. For what ever shallow reasons he’d begun this courtship—for the first time in his life, Toby was out of his depth. Isabel was a woman of strong principles and simmering passions. It would take more than adolescent flirtation to touch her heart. But her heart was the only one that mattered. He had to win it before he lost the election, or he might never have a chance again.

She looked out at the sloping hillside beyond the woods. “I think we must be nearing your estate.”

“That stream was the property line, as a matter of fact. How could you tell?”

“Your whole manner has changed,” she said, placing her hands on his chest. “You’re …

boyish. Carefree. Full of mischief.” She smoothed his waistcoat with her palms. Toby knew it wasn’t wrinkled. She simply wanted to touch him.

And God, did he want to touch her. It was all coming back now, the rush of desperate need.

“Full of mischief, I’ll grant you.” Sliding his hands to her backside, he backed her up a step, so that she stood braced against the trunk of a tree. “But boyish?” He ground his hips against hers, eliciting her small gasp. “I have to disagree with you there.”

“Toby,” she said, her voice tight. Her open palms pressed against his chest. “We really should keep moving.”

“Oh. Very well.”

He released her, but stayed close—denying her the space to walk away. Heart pounding with lust and brain churning with confusion, he stared down at his wife’s flushed countenance. She wouldn’t even meet his eyes. Something was wrong, but damned if he knew how to name it. He couldn’t understand why one minute she could be so passionate, even flirtatious, drawing him near—and the next, pushing him away. As she said, they were already married. And today he’d used all his most impressive tricks, and invented a few new ones in the bargain.

“Someday,” he said, “I’ll take you back to visit Tortola.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s your home. Don’t you miss it?”

“Not today.” She tried to wiggle past him, but he had her boxed in.

“I’d like to see your childhood home. I wonder, would I see the girlish Isabel there? Carefree, full of mischief?”

“I don’t know.” Her tone was light. Falsely so. “I don’t know that I was ever full of mischief.”

Nor carefree, he supposed. A hint of sadness pulled at the corner of her mouth, and Toby found himself wishing he could perform the truly impossible—reach back in time to slay the dragons haunting her past.

She toyed with the end of his cravat where it hung loose about his neck, then looked off into the distance for a moment. A heartbeat later, those wide, dark eyes flashed up at him again.

“Perhaps you’re seeing her now.”

With that, she plucked the cravat from his neck, ducked under his arm and ran off—charging

up the hill, scattering laughter on the breeze behind her. Toby gave chase. Despite her head start, he gained on her quickly. He caught up to her at the crest of the hill, where she’d stopped in her tracks with her back still to him. The cravat fluttered in her dangling hand.

“I’ve caught you now.” He whipped one arm around her chest and reached for the cravat with the other. “Give it here, you minx.”

He encountered no resistance as he yanked the neck cloth from her grasp. She didn’t even turn to look at him. Instead, she simply reclined against his chest and stared down at the valley below.

“Oh, Toby,” she said in a tone of breathless awe. “What is it?”

Smiling through his labored breaths, he hugged her tight. He’d been wrong. He did have one last trick up his sleeve, and this the most impressive one yet.

“Why, that’s our home.”