for so long.”
“It is no matter. Let us return to the group or the gossip will be tedious.”
Too late, Courtland. Far too late for that.
“I don’t care about gossip,” she said, staring out at the lake again. “But I regret for your sake that your name has become linked with mine.”
“It is not a matter of our names being linked. Gossip can have dangerous results to a lady’s reputation.”
She gave him a weary look. “I am nearly twenty-three. I will not have another season and I will not marry. My reputation is no longer of any consequence.”
He felt unaccountable anger that this young creature, however brazen, should feel her life over at such a tender age. Although, perhaps, her resignation was for the best. “Miss Barrett, I am sorry to hear you feel this way, but I hope you discover more enjoyment at Danbury House than you have had thus far. Why, have you been to see the artwork in the Darlingtons’ East Salon? There is a gallery of notable family portraits there, if you should find yourself bored and restless.” As he said it, he had inappropriate thoughts of another activity one might do while bored and restless. A considerably more carnal activity. Dukes could do almost anything, but there were a few things they couldn’t do…
For instance, Court could not put his hand at Miss Barrett’s back and guide her up the grand staircase of Danbury House to his guest bedchamber above the Great Hall. He could not, once there, remove her clothing and admire her voluptuous, feminine figure, run his hands over every curve and valley of her person as he clasped her against his front. He could not suck on the curve of her shoulder or fill his hands with the bounty of her tempting breasts. He could not push her back on his bed and tease and pleasure her until every hint of anxiety was erased from her pretty face. He could not drive inside her until his own sordid, restless cravings were expended again…and again…and again…
No. He could not do that. He should not even imagine it, not now, with sad, conflicted Miss Barrett leaning on his arm. Curse civilization and blasted manners.
They began to walk more slowly as they neared their company. The crowd in the garden had not dissipated in the slightest. If anything, the audience had grown. Court knew with some pain that the universal topic of discussion was them. He delivered her to the younger group of women, greeting the fluttering circle with a tight smile before bowing over his companion’s hand.
“I wish you a pleasant evening, Miss Barrett.”
I wish you were beneath me all this pleasant evening. But that is only because, deep down inside, I am even more uncouth and mannerless than you.
She inclined her head to him and muttered something he couldn’t make out. Perhaps she said, “I wish it for you too.” He heard, I wish for you too .
He thought of his eyelash, and her body sliding against his. Make a wish. Quickly, or it will blow away on the wind.
Chapter Four: Escape
For three more days, Court managed to avoid contact with Miss Barrett. He turned his attention to cards and male conversation, and hunting, and more cards. And more male conversation, sprinkled with the squawking of his mother and Mrs. Lyndon, who’d heard the whispers about he and Miss Barrett. She ripped up at him the day after their lakeside stroll, berating him in their private parlor as the ladies took tea.
“She is so much worse than I expected,” said his mother. “She lacks the most basic of manners. Why, she is practically a savage. It is unkind but it must be said.”
“Her mother died too young,” Mrs. Lyndon agreed. “She has no social graces.”
“And now she has abandoned her set completely and taken to keeping company with Lord Darlington’s books.”
“I believe he granted her permission to do so.” Court knew it, in fact, since he was the one who had quietly arranged it.
“She spends hours in there, reading!”
“Horrifying,” he
“It is no matter. Let us return to the group or the gossip will be tedious.”
Too late, Courtland. Far too late for that.
“I don’t care about gossip,” she said, staring out at the lake again. “But I regret for your sake that your name has become linked with mine.”
“It is not a matter of our names being linked. Gossip can have dangerous results to a lady’s reputation.”
She gave him a weary look. “I am nearly twenty-three. I will not have another season and I will not marry. My reputation is no longer of any consequence.”
He felt unaccountable anger that this young creature, however brazen, should feel her life over at such a tender age. Although, perhaps, her resignation was for the best. “Miss Barrett, I am sorry to hear you feel this way, but I hope you discover more enjoyment at Danbury House than you have had thus far. Why, have you been to see the artwork in the Darlingtons’ East Salon? There is a gallery of notable family portraits there, if you should find yourself bored and restless.” As he said it, he had inappropriate thoughts of another activity one might do while bored and restless. A considerably more carnal activity. Dukes could do almost anything, but there were a few things they couldn’t do…
For instance, Court could not put his hand at Miss Barrett’s back and guide her up the grand staircase of Danbury House to his guest bedchamber above the Great Hall. He could not, once there, remove her clothing and admire her voluptuous, feminine figure, run his hands over every curve and valley of her person as he clasped her against his front. He could not suck on the curve of her shoulder or fill his hands with the bounty of her tempting breasts. He could not push her back on his bed and tease and pleasure her until every hint of anxiety was erased from her pretty face. He could not drive inside her until his own sordid, restless cravings were expended again…and again…and again…
No. He could not do that. He should not even imagine it, not now, with sad, conflicted Miss Barrett leaning on his arm. Curse civilization and blasted manners.
They began to walk more slowly as they neared their company. The crowd in the garden had not dissipated in the slightest. If anything, the audience had grown. Court knew with some pain that the universal topic of discussion was them. He delivered her to the younger group of women, greeting the fluttering circle with a tight smile before bowing over his companion’s hand.
“I wish you a pleasant evening, Miss Barrett.”
I wish you were beneath me all this pleasant evening. But that is only because, deep down inside, I am even more uncouth and mannerless than you.
She inclined her head to him and muttered something he couldn’t make out. Perhaps she said, “I wish it for you too.” He heard, I wish for you too .
He thought of his eyelash, and her body sliding against his. Make a wish. Quickly, or it will blow away on the wind.
Chapter Four: Escape
For three more days, Court managed to avoid contact with Miss Barrett. He turned his attention to cards and male conversation, and hunting, and more cards. And more male conversation, sprinkled with the squawking of his mother and Mrs. Lyndon, who’d heard the whispers about he and Miss Barrett. She ripped up at him the day after their lakeside stroll, berating him in their private parlor as the ladies took tea.
“She is so much worse than I expected,” said his mother. “She lacks the most basic of manners. Why, she is practically a savage. It is unkind but it must be said.”
“Her mother died too young,” Mrs. Lyndon agreed. “She has no social graces.”
“And now she has abandoned her set completely and taken to keeping company with Lord Darlington’s books.”
“I believe he granted her permission to do so.” Court knew it, in fact, since he was the one who had quietly arranged it.
“She spends hours in there, reading!”
“Horrifying,” he
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