“Do it, Windsor,” Lord Pitt cajoled good-naturedly. “I know you’ve wanted to kiss her since the night of the dance.”
I expected Aldric to deny Lord Pitt and to come up with an excuse that would save us both embarrassment. However, he pivoted and at the same time reached for me, fitting one hand on my waist and sliding the other to the small of my back.
As he drew me closer, I couldn’t stop my involuntary gasp at his brazenness. But with his eyes fixed upon my mouth, he swooped in and captured my gasp before it could find full expression. His lips powerfully covered mine and moved in a kiss that gave me no option but to respond.
I was innocent in the ways of men and kissing and intimacy. I’d never been kissed, except for the perfunctory pecks on my hands by suitors. Therefore, nothing prepared me for the power of the connection. I could only close my eyes, completely undone.
The kiss had hardly begun when he broke away, almost abruptly. He straightened and released his hold. “There, my lord.” He tossed Lord Pitt a grin—one that seemed genuine. “Are you satisfied?”
Lord Pitt grinned in return, his eyes mischievous. “For now.”
When Aldric held out his arm to me, I wanted to pull a veil over my face so that I could hide how much I’d enjoyed his kiss—much more than I wanted to admit to myself, much less to him. As I took hold of him, his gaze raked across my face and landed upon my lips. Something smoldered in his eyes, something that stoked the low flames inside me.
Had he been as affected by the kiss as I was? Likely not. After all, he’d once been married and was no novice when it came to showing affection.
I couldn’t make more out of the moment than he’d intended. After all, it was just one little kiss. Hopefully one we’d both soon forget.
Chapter
15
All I could think about was kissing Olivia again. Through every course of the feast, the kiss I’d given her in the chapel replayed in my mind, especially whenever I happened to glance at her mouth—which I tried not to do but seemed unable to avoid, as she was seated beside me.
Every time I turned to converse with her, every time she spoke to one of the other guests at our table, or every time she sipped from her goblet, I was keenly aware of her lips.
Pitt had likely orchestrated the kiss, knowing once I’d tasted of her, I’d want to have more. However, I couldn’t give in to the pressure or the pleasure of claiming another kiss. One kiss was already too many.
Perhaps Pitt had anticipated my reaction to Olivia. But I certainly hadn’t expected this. Of course, I could acknowledge how beautiful she was in the velvety green gown that made her look like a queen. But I hadn’t thought that bending in and giving her a kiss would stir such longing inside me. I suppose I hadn’t counted on her responding with such fervor.
In fact, as much as I’d loved Giselle, I could see now that our relationship had been mostly one-sided. I’d adored her, but she hadn’t returned my love as ardently.
Not that I loved Olivia or that she loved me. But I had to admit I felt some kind of affection for her. And from the way that she’d responded to my kiss, I could only surmise she harbored feelings for me as well.
I wasn’t displeased by the idea that she liked me. If her father refused to come for her, then she wouldn’t be entirely unhappy if we had to wed.
“What say you, Windsor?” Pitt asked boisterously from where he sat several seats down. “Shall we have your wedding in one week?”
One week was much too soon. But I ran my thumb pad around the rim of my goblet, needing to take my time in answering Pitt so that my voice remained neutral and noncommittal. If he detected any hesitancy, he would capitalize on it.
Next to me, Olivia shifted uneasily. She was much less adept at hiding her true feelings, which worked to my advantage most of the time. “We must wait two weeks,” she hissed. “My father will surely come once he hears of our betrothal.” Her eyes flashed with a desperation that pierced me harder than it should have.
What was wrong with me? Her desperation was to be expected. The betrothal wasn’t supposed to be pleasant. It was a punishment for her crime.
“You cannot be seriously considering one week,” she whispered.
Again, her words lanced through me. Had I already allowed myself to care about her too much? Deep down, had I wanted her to accept our union? Whatever the case, the sting of her rejection hurt more than I expected.
“What will it be?” Pitt asked again.
“One,” I retorted loudly and obstinately. I met Olivia’s gaze head-on and watched her eyes fill with surprise. Before she could contradict me, I bent in, captured her lips against mine, and kissed her again.
Her hand shot out as though she meant to push me away. But as I pressed our kiss deeper, her fingers clutched at my tunic, fisting the front into a wad, and she returned the kiss as she had earlier with a force that matched mine and left me shaken.
From a distance, I heard Pitt’s pleased laughter along with the guffaws of some of the other men.
Before I lost all sense of reason and rationale, I forced myself to pull back and break the kiss.
She ducked her head but not before I caught sight of the yearning in her eyes.
I let my shoulders relax with the knowledge that whatever she might say, however she might protest, she was drawn to me. I hadn’t imagined her fondness, and I wasn’t the only one feeling something.
Perhaps I was a fool to agree to Pitt’s plans to have the wedding in one week. It would take time for the earl to receive news of the betrothal. Then he would have to travel to Tolleymuth.
But another part of me was afraid that even a week was too long and that I’d lose Olivia either way—whether after one week or two. I had to silently rebuke myself with the reminder that she wasn’t really mine, that I couldn’t get involved with her, that she’d be better off without me.
I was thankful Lady Glynnis had taken leave of the feasting early, complaining of stomach pains. Only a few of her ladies remained to return to her with tales of my behavior with Olivia, of the kiss and the plans to wed at week’s end. She’d taken a disliking to Olivia and wouldn’t be pleased with the news. But I suspected she wouldn’t attempt to harm Olivia again, not as long as I was at Tolleymuth.
For once, I wasn’t ready for the feast to end. I wanted to lounge at the table with Olivia by my side. But exhaustion was evident in every line of her face. The past few days in the dungeons had taken their toll upon her.
I excused myself to escort her to the tower and her new chamber there. Two of my squires accompanied us. As we started up the winding tower steps, I led the way. The further I climbed, the more she lagged behind.
I retraced my steps. “You’re tired, my lady.”
She nodded. “Yes, I am indeed weary.”
I handed my torch to one of the squires. Then without asking permission, I scooped Olivia up into my arms and began to ascend again.
Her eyes widened but she didn’t attempt to escape my hold. “You cannot mean to carry me the rest of the way.”
“And why not?”
“You are equally tired from your travels.”
I was drained from the past few days of riding hard and sleeping little. But I was not so worn-out that I couldn’t assist her.
She settled against my chest. “I hope you know I am sorry.”
“Have no care,” I reassured her. She was lightweight compared with other things I was forced to lift. “You aren’t a burden.”
“No, I would apologize for our betrothal.” Her warm breath tickled my neck. “In spite of your wishes not to remarry, you agreed to Pitt’s stipulations in order to save my life.”
“As I told you before, I hold myself responsible for bringing you here and putting you at risk.”
“But if I had behaved above reproach, like Izzy. . .”