His facile smile slipped. “We need to talk,” he whispered. He turned back to Aunt Eliza. “Lady Belsham, might I steal your niece away for a stroll?”
Aunt beamed. “Of course.” She nodded at Liliana. “If you feel up to it, my dear?” All three pairs of eyes turned to look at her expectantly.
Liliana dearly wished to say she most certainly did not feel up to it—that she’d rather walk with the devil. As he stood there with his dark good looks, she decided he might very well be Lucifer. Was that jab about catching a husband designed to put her at ease, lull her into thinking he didn’t know why she was here? Why did he really wish to talk with her?
He raised an impatient black brow in challenge, and Liliana narrowed her eyes. He knew she didn’t want to go anywhere near him, blast him. He also knew she couldn’t risk him opening his mouth about last night.
He offered his arm.
Aunt Eliza discreetly cleared her throat.
Liliana cursed under her breath. “A stroll would be lovely.”
Chapter Five
G
eoffrey clasped Miss Claremont’s slender hand and tucked it securely in the crook of his arm. For a moment, it seemed she might snatch it back, but after a brief hesitation she settled her gloved fingers on his forearm. Yet her annoyance broke over him in waves.
He swam in dangerous waters. He’d behaved despicably last night, and she had every right to be angry with him. Geoffrey glanced over at Miss Claremont—Liliana. He’d kissed the woman. He might as well make free with her name. She looked straight ahead, tension creasing the corners of her pursed lips. If she pressed them much harder, they would quickly turn as blue as the muslin caressing her bosom.
In his experience, a piqued woman was a volatile one. He had no wish to face his mother should Liliana work herself up to accusing him of ungentlemanly conduct, witness or no.
He was half surprised she hadn’t already. Now he intended to find out if she meant to.
Geoffrey placed his hand over hers where it rested on his forearm. “We both know ill health is not what kept you from breakfast this morning. You look far too becoming to be indisposed,” he said, glancing over at her. And she did. Her skin glowed a creamy gold in the afternoon sunlight, and her hair glinted like copper coins when she turned her head. He wasn’t the only man to notice, he saw with no little disgruntlement. “Which makes me wonder…what reason would you have for not joining us this morning?”
Liliana’s face paled. Then bright flags of color splotched her cheeks and, if possible, she pressed her lips even more tightly together. Behind her stony expression, Geoffrey glimpsed a flicker. Guilt. No doubt about it.
Liliana maintained her silence, yet she could not hold his gaze. She looked away.
Geoffrey sighed. She had been plotting something this morning, some way to use his behavior last night to her advantage.
He’d lost control of their kiss. Even an innocent like her would recognize that he desired her. No doubt she’d spent the hours dressing just so, turning herself out perfectly to entice him. By absenting herself, perhaps she’d thought to whet his appetite a bit further.
His gaze raked her and desire coiled through him, twisting his gut with sharp longing.
Smart girl. Bloody hell.
And still she said nothing.
“Come, now, Liliana. Don’t say it’s maidenly distress that’s got your tongue.” He lowered his voice, partially to keep from being overheard but also to disguise the huskiness that entered his own tenor. “I know from the way you responded to my kiss last night, distress is far from what you feel.”
That got a reaction. The amethyst glare she leveled on him burned a path straight to his groin. Geoffrey sucked in a breath. Yet behind her outrage, he recognized awareness in Liliana’s eyes. And confusion. Grim satisfaction settled over him.
“You are quite correct, my lord,” Liliana bit out around a tight smile.
Geoffrey gave her a quick nod. Good of her to admit she’d been affected by their interlude and was equally unsettled by it.
“Distress is not what I feel,” she continued, “so much as”—she tilted her head and raised a chestnut brow—“indifference.”
Geoffrey stopped abruptly, bringing Liliana awkwardly to a halt beside him. Indifference? He stared at her.
Her lips twisted, her other brow rising to join its sister.
Geoffrey narrowed his eyes. Indifference his arse. While he might not be sure exactly what else she wanted, he knew when a woman wanted him. And by God, Liliana Claremont wanted him.
“And, yes,” Liliana continued, slipping her arm from his and stepping ahead. “I admit I did prevaricate slightly about being ill this morning, but not for whatever reasons you think.” She continued walking, not even bothering to see if he followed. “I simply wished to avoid an awkward situation,” she said. She waved a hand backward in his direction. “For you.”
“For me?” Geoffrey snorted, disliking the way his voice ended on a high note. He trailed behind in an effort to hear her, like a damned lovesick boy.
She turned to him then, her violet eyes squinting slightly in the afternoon sun as she once again stopped. “Why, yes. To save you the embarrassment of having to apologize, of course. I know how men detest admitting they are wrong. However, since you’ve forced the issue, I suppose the only polite thing to do is to listen to your offer of contrition.”
Geoffrey choked.
Liliana tilted her head, giving him a smile that was both irritation and condescension yet fell short of actually being rude. Just.
Firming his jaw, he took a sharp breath through his nostrils. Had he lost his brass? Twice in two days he’d let a woman turn the tables on him.
He eyed Liliana for a moment, noticing the stiffness with which she held herself, the rapid rise and fall of her breasts with each breath, the flurried irregular blinking of her eyes. The vision calmed him. He recognized bravado when he saw it.
She actually wanted to retreat. His every instinct told him so. Could she have been telling the truth when she’d insisted she had no designs on him? She wasn’t acting like a woman who wanted his attentions. Not like…
He glanced around the park, eyeing the legions of women and their mothers who were also eyeing him—and all but salivating and licking their lips. Geoffrey made a decision.
“Quite so, Miss Claremont,” he said, smoothly recapturing her arm and settling it again on his as they resumed walking. “I do owe you my deepest regrets. That is precisely why I requested this stroll. In fact, as an olive branch of sorts, I insist you accompany me for the rest of the afternoon activities.”
She blanched. “Accompany you?” Liliana gave a quick shake of her head. “Thank you, my lord, but that’s quite unnecessary. Your apology will suffice.”
Geoffrey gave her his best smile. “Oh, but I insist. It will give us a chance to start our friendship anew.” He patted her hand where it rested on his arm, gratified to elicit another shiver, to see her curtain of insouciance slip a bit. “Come,” he said as he led her toward the open field where the afternoon games were ready to commence.
He looked out over the grassy green field, which had been staked out in a rather large rectangle. He shook his head at the festooned ribbons looped through the posts. His mother had coined the afternoon festivities “A Return to Chivalry.” Each contestant was to choose a lady to champion, whom he would later escort to dinner and a supper ball. He knew she expected him to squire either Lady Emily Morton or Lady Jane Northumb, two of the most eligible debutantes in attendance. Geoffrey had been furious at first. But now he smiled to himself. Mother would be the furious one when she saw his selected companion.