adjusted her shawl over her shoulders and closed the distance between them. Mountjoy slid an arm around her waist, and the tension was back, singing through him. But all she did was lean in to kiss his cheek.
“I’ll tell you good night, your grace, and see myself inside.” She touched his cheek. “Thank you for your company.”
He didn’t let her go. Not until she cleared her throat. “The pleasure was mine, I assure you.”
She curtseyed to him and then left him. Alone.
He watched her walk away, and since the moon had come out from behind the clouds he had no trouble discerning the sway of her hips until, at last, the shadows hid even that.
She was right. They couldn’t when nothing would come of it. He was going to marry Jane. He could not seduce his sister’s friend. Affairs always ended. Eugenia would never forgive him when their inevitable break cost her Lily’s friendship. His sister had few enough friends as it was.
He wanted to, though.
Chapter Five
J UST BEFORE LILY BLEW OUT THE CANDLE AT HER bedside, she took off the Gypsy’s medallion and slipped it underneath her pillow. Not that she believed in the power of the medallion; she just didn’t want to lie to Ginny about whether she had done so, and Ginny would ask. She marked her place in her novel with an ivory bookmark and set it on the table beside her. The candle was barely an inch tall. Her inability to sleep at night meant she would have to ask the housekeeper to see that there were extra candles in her room.
Dawn was just touching the windows as she pulled the covers to her shoulders. The room was no longer dark, and at last, sleep dragged her eyes closed. Her sheets smelled of lavender, and while she breathed in the scent, she imagined the coolness of the Gypsy’s medallion lay not beneath her pillow but beneath her fingers. She could still feel the duke’s mouth on hers, the solidness of his body. The taste of him. The bewildering response of her body to him. He was not Greer, and she could not help feeling she’d betrayed the man she loved. And yet, to be held like that. Kissed like that. Shetried to summon Greer’s beloved face and she couldn’t, and her heart broke anew.
She fell asleep as the first light of morning filled her room, turning dark shadows to gray, and gray to palest lilac. She dreamed. Vividly. She was outside, a spade in her hand, looking into a hole in the ground. In her dream, she knew she was searching for treasure.
Footmen stood around her, wilting in the afternoon heat, soon dirty and sweaty from the work of digging the trench. They’d cast off their coats and rolled up their sleeves, though it was she who held the shovel. Ginny and the so very young and handsome Lord Nigel Hampton stood to her right. Across from her, on the other side of the trench, stood the Duke of Mountjoy, his eyes green as moss.
Their gazes connected, hers and the duke’s, and her heart beat hard in her chest. He wasn’t as lovely as his brother, but there was a look in his eyes, a certainty about him that appealed to her immensely. Surely, she thought, he would not ask more of her than she had in her to give.
She broke from his gaze and returned to her digging. After turning a few spadefuls of dirt, her shovel hit something that was not dirt. Carefully, she reached in to scrape away the dirt. Gold gleamed from the shadowed trench. She bent closer and the shadows resolved into an iron pot full of gold coins that, even in her dreaming state, she thought looked suspiciously like her medallion. Why, with these, the whole unmarried population of High Tearing would be able to find their truest and happiest loves.
The footmen applauded as she bent to touch the coins, and she grinned with triumph. She stood up, the pot in her arms, and no one, least of all herself, remarked that such a pot would be too heavy for her to lift, though she held it easily. She gave everyone present one
“I’ll tell you good night, your grace, and see myself inside.” She touched his cheek. “Thank you for your company.”
He didn’t let her go. Not until she cleared her throat. “The pleasure was mine, I assure you.”
She curtseyed to him and then left him. Alone.
He watched her walk away, and since the moon had come out from behind the clouds he had no trouble discerning the sway of her hips until, at last, the shadows hid even that.
She was right. They couldn’t when nothing would come of it. He was going to marry Jane. He could not seduce his sister’s friend. Affairs always ended. Eugenia would never forgive him when their inevitable break cost her Lily’s friendship. His sister had few enough friends as it was.
He wanted to, though.
Chapter Five
J UST BEFORE LILY BLEW OUT THE CANDLE AT HER bedside, she took off the Gypsy’s medallion and slipped it underneath her pillow. Not that she believed in the power of the medallion; she just didn’t want to lie to Ginny about whether she had done so, and Ginny would ask. She marked her place in her novel with an ivory bookmark and set it on the table beside her. The candle was barely an inch tall. Her inability to sleep at night meant she would have to ask the housekeeper to see that there were extra candles in her room.
Dawn was just touching the windows as she pulled the covers to her shoulders. The room was no longer dark, and at last, sleep dragged her eyes closed. Her sheets smelled of lavender, and while she breathed in the scent, she imagined the coolness of the Gypsy’s medallion lay not beneath her pillow but beneath her fingers. She could still feel the duke’s mouth on hers, the solidness of his body. The taste of him. The bewildering response of her body to him. He was not Greer, and she could not help feeling she’d betrayed the man she loved. And yet, to be held like that. Kissed like that. Shetried to summon Greer’s beloved face and she couldn’t, and her heart broke anew.
She fell asleep as the first light of morning filled her room, turning dark shadows to gray, and gray to palest lilac. She dreamed. Vividly. She was outside, a spade in her hand, looking into a hole in the ground. In her dream, she knew she was searching for treasure.
Footmen stood around her, wilting in the afternoon heat, soon dirty and sweaty from the work of digging the trench. They’d cast off their coats and rolled up their sleeves, though it was she who held the shovel. Ginny and the so very young and handsome Lord Nigel Hampton stood to her right. Across from her, on the other side of the trench, stood the Duke of Mountjoy, his eyes green as moss.
Their gazes connected, hers and the duke’s, and her heart beat hard in her chest. He wasn’t as lovely as his brother, but there was a look in his eyes, a certainty about him that appealed to her immensely. Surely, she thought, he would not ask more of her than she had in her to give.
She broke from his gaze and returned to her digging. After turning a few spadefuls of dirt, her shovel hit something that was not dirt. Carefully, she reached in to scrape away the dirt. Gold gleamed from the shadowed trench. She bent closer and the shadows resolved into an iron pot full of gold coins that, even in her dreaming state, she thought looked suspiciously like her medallion. Why, with these, the whole unmarried population of High Tearing would be able to find their truest and happiest loves.
The footmen applauded as she bent to touch the coins, and she grinned with triumph. She stood up, the pot in her arms, and no one, least of all herself, remarked that such a pot would be too heavy for her to lift, though she held it easily. She gave everyone present one
Similar Books
