The Duke Heist (The Wild Wynchesters #1) - Erica Ridley Page 0,59
long as she got her way.
“See?” His hand cupped her cheek. He lowered his lips to the shell of her ear. “You have the best counter-arguments.”
“Prove it.”
He slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue giving, demanding. She held on tight, as though to let go would cause him to disintegrate like ash on a breeze. He was a dream that she held in her hands only for a moment. They belonged to each other as long as their mouths touched and their bodies pressed together. If she let go even the slightest bit, reality would claw its way in.
A creak sounded in the hall. Tommy? A maid? The wind?
They dropped their hands and stepped apart.
As much as Chloe hadn’t wished for their kiss to end, she was equally distraught at the idea of never again being as important, as necessary and esteemed, as she’d felt tonight.
“Anytime you need an ear,” she said in a rush, “if you want to analyze a performance or need help with a future speech or want a sounding board for policies, or for how to take down your rivals…I’m good at those things.”
She was, she realized. Invisibility wasn’t the only gift that made her useful to her family. After nineteen years of being a Wynchester, she was well versed in strategy. How to argue, how to persuade, how to think critically, how to plan for contingencies, how to succeed at all costs. The Wynchesters were more than a team. They were invincible.
It was dizzying to think she and Lawrence could be, too.
“I enjoyed tonight very much,” he said.
Ah. That was not the same as Yes, I would love for you to help me plan my speeches. It was How kind but no, thank you.
She handed him her hat. “Let me find my aunt and send for our carriage.”
“Only one of those things is necessary.” He bowed. “Allow me to send you home in mine.”
She narrowed her eyes. “In a coach without your crest, of course.”
His rented coach. Graham had discovered the ducal coach had been sold the morning of the reading circle, leading to the mix-up of carriages. Lawrence could offer his rented conveyance in place of a hack, because the two would be indistinguishable.
“Would it matter?” His blue gaze held her rapt.
Her skin warmed at the idea that he would not have been ashamed to see her in a coach bearing his family crest. She all but floated to the carriage.
With the Duke of Faircliffe’s driver within hearing distance, Chloe could not confess any of the afternoon’s discoveries to her sister. Instead, she was forced to sit in silence, replaying every word of their debate, every passionate moment and heated kiss, her stomach twisting at the knowledge it would soon come to an end.
When the coach drew up at her house, Graham and Jacob were outside in the garden.
“What funny horses! I adore them.” Jacob pretended to chase after the retreating carriage. “Can I keep them?”
Elderberry and Mango, Chloe thought, and immediately wished she didn’t know their names.
“Take the beasts,” Graham told his brother, “but leave the coach to me. I’ll drive it for a quick holiday to—”
“You can’t have any of it,” Chloe couldn’t stop herself from saying. “It belongs to Law—to Faircliffe.”
“Pah.” Jacob wiggled his eyebrows. “Anyone who lives as far beyond their means as the Faircliffe dukes won’t notice the absence of a horse or two.”
“He would notice. He’s more attentive and considerate than you think.” Oh, for the love of figs, Chloe knew her brother was teasing. There was no need to defend Lawrence.
“He’s his father’s son,” Jacob reminded her. “He likely sleeps on cushions stuffed with IOUs he’ll never repay.”
Graham made an exaggerated face. “Maybe that is what’s been up his arse this whole time.”
Tommy and Jacob laughed.
Chloe did not.
She had no high horse from which to judge her siblings, she reminded herself. She had said the same things. Vowed to steal Bean’s painting out from under Faircliffe’s nose as revenge. Relished the idea of someone so icy and arrogant receiving a taste of his own medicine.
And now it was Chloe who felt like she’d swallowed a bitter pill.
“He doesn’t want to live on credit,” she said, although she doubted her next words would change her siblings’ opinions of him for the better. “That’s why he plans to wed Philippa for her dowry.”
Tommy’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“Oh, Graham, look!” Jacob gestured toward the duke’s elegant conveyance. “Perhaps you can keep the coach after all.”