Thirteen
Hellfire and damn!
Luke slanted a glance at Vivian. She rode with a straight back, her lips so tightly pressed together they might have been sewn shut.
What the hell had he been thinking to kiss her?
Oh, hell. He hadn’t just kissed her; he had been close to ravishing her. How he had mustered the willpower to set her away, he didn’t know.
He could still feel the curve and weight of her bottom cupped in his palm. Curling his fingers into a fist, he pressed his hand firmly against his thigh, battling with the voice inside him insisting it didn’t matter that he had taken liberties. Vivian was his, given freely by her brother. The twisted reasoning held great appeal, but the selfish part of him must be held in check. He was a better man than her brother. He had offered her a choice, and he couldn’t snatch it away. He had given his word to help her find a husband, but thoughts of surrendering her to another man were like an insidious poison, making his insides writhe.
Good God. He didn’t know what to do. Several options presented themselves: He could pretend nothing had happened, which seemed an ill-advised course given Vivian’s peevish reaction earlier.
He could apologize for taking liberties and promise to be more considerate in the future. A vow he didn’t wish to make, because the memory of her sweet taste was already making him hard again.
Or… A slow grin spread across his face. He could admit how much he had enjoyed kissing her and reveal all the ribald things he wished to do to her.
His smile slipped. No, that wouldn’t do at all, would it?
He cleared his throat, uncertain what he would say next. “I fear I forgot myself earlier, Lady Vivian. I beg your forgiveness for my coarse treatment.”
She turned toward him, her eyes expanding a fraction before she regained control of her composure. Stone-faced, she returned her attention to the rutted lane. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Her curt forgiveness sucked the life from him. Well, what had he expected? He hadn’t wanted her wrath. Or worse, tears. But he desired something more from her than a cool dismissal.
He opened his mouth then snapped it closed again.
Devil take it. He didn’t know what he wanted. His thoughts and feelings were as indistinguishable as the ingredients in Cook’s fruit-and-nut cake. And he didn’t know if he cared to explore what any of them were: fruit, nuts, or feelings.
“Are you as skilled in riding sidesaddle as you are astride?” he asked at last. “I wouldn’t wish for you to take a tumble. From the horse, I mean.”
Vivian frowned. “What else could you mean, Your Grace?”
His throat shrunk two sizes too small. “I— There is no other meaning. Do you intend to answer my question?”
“It seems a bit late for worry, wouldn’t you agree?”
Luke’s brow lifted. “Is it?”
Now that they had kissed, perhaps she would hold him accountable for his behavior and insist upon marriage.
“If I were unsafe,” she said, her tone hassled, “it would be obvious by now, wouldn’t you agree? I have already mounted and ridden a good hour.”
All this talk of tumbling, mounting, and riding was not accomplishing what he’d intended. He wanted to forget about his urges to have her beneath him.
“Let’s see a demonstration of your skill.” He squeezed the reins tightly and cursed under his breath. “Your equestrienne skill, that is.”
She cocked her head, her frown lines deepening. “Yes, I took your meaning the first time, Your Grace.”
Good Lord, her innocence made him feel like the worst of lechers. Every thought he had bordered on vulgar.
“What type of demonstration do you propose?” she asked.
“We mustn’t stay to the road. Let’s explore the terrain.”
“All right.” An animated spark flashed in her eyes, her formal manner melting away. How he admired her fire. Vivian was typically game for most anything.
Of course, there was no true danger to her, or any surprise for him as to what lay over the next hill. They had entered one of his lesser properties where they would stay the night. Perhaps two. He no longer felt any urgency to reach Irvine Castle, for various reasons. Most notably, he wished to keep Vivian out of reach of those debauchees, Brookhaven and Collier.
Having either man in close proximity to her made Luke want to break something. When he hadn’t been able to decide earlier between an arm, leg, or neck, he determined the best choice would be to lose the men.
The lesser-traveled road also made it possible to free Vivian from the boredom that must have been plaguing her in the carriage. She wasn’t any more accustomed to being confined than he, which was another reason to postpone the inevitable arrival at Irvine Castle. Once they arrived and husband hunting began, she would be under much scrutiny.
“Wait here a moment.” He rode back to the carriage and signaled to Drew that he and Vivian would reconvene with them at Twinspur Cottage. Then he led Vivian toward the glen.
The canopy of leaves blocked the strong afternoon sunlight, casting everything in muted color. Tension drained from him as he breathed in the earthy scents: soil, leaf mold, and fallen logs. The fragrance was primitive, the simplest building blocks of life, and free from pretention.
Vivian and her horse plodded along behind. She kept her silence as the forest absorbed them, closing them off from the world at large. The ground slanted downward toward a brook, the soft trickle barely audible in the midst of the horses’ hooves crunching leaves.
Upon reaching the shallow waters, he urged Thor to walk upstream. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted with satisfaction Vivian didn’t pause before guiding her horse into the water. She glanced up at the tangled limbs above them, and he turned back with a smile.
“Searching for good climbing trees, my lady?”
“Hmm.”
Her brief acknowledgment stung. He had thought she might let go of her reticence if they were alone. She had proven to be forthright in their past encounters, but he couldn’t fault her for her cold response. Perhaps she was as confused as he was; likely more so given their kiss had been her first.
Oh, she may have received a stolen kiss on the cheek or a fervent squeeze to her hand, but her inexperience had been clear in her hesitant lips. Her eagerness, however, made up for a lack of skill. Luke liked that he had been her first. Vivian’s naivety would require her introduction to many pleasures. Would her eagerness extend to the bedchamber? The air in his lungs seemed heavier all of a sudden, and he swiped a hand across his forehead, his body hot beyond reason.
“Luke? Back at the inn…”
A big grin split his face. He hadn’t expected her to leave the situation alone. It wasn’t in her nature.
“Was I horrible? At kissing?”
Luke’s merriment disappeared. “What makes you think you were horrible?”
She didn’t answer, but he could almost feel daggers at his back. His question was genuine, but perhaps unfair. She had no notion of how aroused he had been with the soft mounds of her breasts pressed against him and the taste of her on his tongue. She would have discovered soon enough, if he had allowed her exploration.
He led Thor from the water and up the gentle incline.
“You were far from horrible. I expect with more practice you will excel at kissing just as you have with most everything you’ve undertaken.”
“Oh.” Her small intake of breath made him smile.
Perhaps her thoughts were also back to their kiss and future interludes. He awaited her next impertinent question with eagerness, but she disappointed him. She didn’t speak again as their horses continued on their own path.
Ahead, green pastures peeked through the trees. They would catch their first glimpse of the house nesting in the valley once they cleared the forest. “We are almost to our next lodgings for the evening.”
“So early? We’ve barely traveled any distance today.”
“We are under no time constraints. Besides, since we are this close, I should check on my tenants.”
“Where are we?”
“Twinspur Cottage.” As Luke rode out of the glen, he squinted against the brighter light. He waited for her to join him. “We spent summers here as children.”
Vivian looked beyond his shoulder, her eyes widening. “That is your summer home?”
Luke tried to view it as she might upon seeing it for the first time. In comparison to the family home in Essex or Irvine Castle, the house was small, but with ten bedchambers, the term cottage was misleading.
“It was our summer home when I was a boy.” It had been nine years since he’d visited the property, but everything was still fresh in his mind. He didn’t wish to think on it, though. He’d had enough time for thinking when lying flat on his back.
“I imagine we can find all kinds of unladylike pursuits to fill your time,” he said.
Vivian regarded him with her quicksilver gaze as if she could see inside him, past the jovial façade and teasing.
He glanced toward the house, locating the window to the chambers where he had spent most of his last days here. His mother had known how torturous it would have been for him to gaze out at the lake and remain stuck behind glass. She’d had his sick room moved to the north side of the house.
“Luke, is something troubling you?”
He banished those dark memories to the corner of his mind. “I spent some unhappy time here once, but I’d rather not think on it.”
“Must we stay if the cottage brings you bad memories? Couldn’t we take rooms at an inn?”
His disquiet faded as he met her compassionate gaze. Vivian would enjoy Twinspur as he once had when he was a lad. “There’s a lake stocked with fish, and we’ll have our privacy if you would like to ride astride.”
“But what about your family?”
“Lana and Drew? They are the least proper of the entire clan. You have no reason to worry about offending either of them.”
A true smile lit her eyes. “How long will we stay?”
His misgivings about staying at Twinspur melted away. Perhaps with Vivian to distract him, he could tolerate his time at his old prison.
“I should think we would be here three days at least for me to adequately address any tenant needs. Would you like to come along when I call on them?”
“I—” She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “Are you certain you’re a duke?”
Although her question was asked in jest, it cut to his heart. He knew he was different from other noblemen in his position. If she only knew to what extent, she would no longer think his differences were an asset.
He flashed a false smile. “What’s the matter, Vivian? Am I not stuffy enough for you?”
“You’re the perfect amount of stuffy to suit me, Your Grace. Not one ounce.”
Her response sent a wave of warmth flowing over him and a real smile pushed its way out.