By heavens, had she just whimpered? “You're certain I will surrender?”
His hand cupped her neck, and he pressed his lips against the hollow of her neck. “Quite willingly,” he said against her flesh.
“Why?” she breathed.
Kiernan leaned back. “Because our union will be no bondage, rather, I will please you.” He exhaled a slow breath. “Where else will you find a man willing to give you all you want?”
What did she want?
He wrapped a hand around her waist and began a slow walk back toward the ballroom. “It was foolish of you to run off as you did from Brahan Seer,” he said. "And then the inn.” He made a tsking sound. “You can imagine my concern when I learned you were gone.”
“For all the good it did me,” she said under her breath. Were her legs ever going to feel strong again?
He laughed. “Don't expect me to believe you would have it any other way. By the way,” he added, and reached into his breast pocket, “I believe this is yours.”
He took her hand and pressed something into her palm. Phoebe discerned the cool metal of a ring and held it up in the moonlight.
“What—my God, it’s not?”
“Yes, it's your mother’s ring,” he said.
“But how—”
“I can't take credit. It was Donald. He realized the importance of the piece and procured it for me. I am eternally grateful, of course.”
“How did you know it was my mother’s ring?” Phoebe asked.
“Your uncle recognized it. How else?”
How else, indeed? Phoebe groaned. She had all but forgotten about her uncle.
*****
When Kiernan led Phoebe back into the ballroom, his father turned from the group he was talking with as if aware of their entrance. Over the heads of the couples dancing, their eyes met and Kiernan knew exactly what his father was thinking: any more stolen moments alone in the garden with your future wife and I'll horsewhip you.
The twitch of a smile pulled at Kiernan's mouth and his father's expression darkened. Kiernan shifted his gaze to Phoebe and understood his father's irritation. Her left sleeve had slipped too far down her shoulder, exposing the curve of her breast more shockingly than did the low bodice of the olive green gown. That would teach him to half undress a woman—his betrothed—in public.
Kiernan pulled her tight, pressing the lovely breast against his side.
Her head snapped up, eyes dark with indignation. "Sir, I am not some streetwalker to be mauled."
"I quite agree," he said. "Which is why you might want to adjust your sleeve."
She frowned and looked down. "By heavens."
Phoebe grasped the sleeve and jerked it up. His cock jerked in response to the shift of creamy flesh as she pulled the bodice back into place over her full breasts. Damnation, he'd only managed to control his lust so that he didn't draw stares when they entered the ballroom.
He looked up to see his father still staring. Kiernan sighed. "Shall we, my dear?" He guided her through the crowd surrounding the dancers toward his father.
They neared the duke on the far side of the ballroom and her eyes widened when he smiled at her.
Kiernan bent his head and whispered, "You jumped from a moving carriage, but my father terrifies you?"
"Your father is determined that I marry you," she said under her breath.
"Phoebe, I am determined that you marry me."
"You, I can ignore."
"You weren't able to ignore me in the garden."
"My lord," she exclaimed, then blushed at a woman who was staring.
"Good evening, Lady Benette." Kiernan canted his head in the woman's direction. Her gaze flew to his and he lifted a brow. She visibly swallowed, then whirled away from him. "Lovely woman," he commented. "I believe her daughter ran off with Lord Phillips when she was eighteen," Kiernan said in a loud whisper. He didn't miss the stiffening of Lady Benette's shoulders as he and Phoebe passed her. They neared his father and Phoebe slowed. "Courage, my dear," he whispered. "He isn't an ogre."
"No," she said under her breath, "that would be you."
Kiernan brought them to a halt before his father, and Phoebe dropped into a low bow. "Your Grace."
He grasped her hand and pulled her upright. "None of that. As I said before, you can call me Father. You're well?" he asked.
"Yes, Your-er, sir."
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Lass, we welcome you into our family."
Surprise flickered in her eyes. "I see where your son gets his straightforward manner."
Kiernan's father shot him a look that said he'd better not be too straight forward, then said to Phoebe, "Honesty is the best, wouldn't you agree?"
"I do," she said.
He released her hand. "Your uncle is here, he and your aunt accompanied us. I understand you haven't seen him since your arrival in London."
"He came with you?" Her eyes narrowed. "So my new father and uncle are ganging up on me."
"I wouldn't say ganging up."
"No?"
"No. We had business to settle."