Kiss Me Duke - Tamara Gill Page 0,9

a companion and not much else. Whatever possessed you?"

"Do you reproach me for such a journey, Mr. Armstrong?" she asked, sitting in one of the leatherback chairs before the hearth. Mr. Armstrong walked over to a decanter and poured himself a whiskey.

"Not at all, but I am interested. Women do travel, of course, but they're either widowed or traveling with their husbands. I'm curious, that is all."

Molly thought back on her cousin Laura, how she had suffered through the birth of her son and subsequently paid for that birth with her life. The child only hours later following his mama to the grave.

"Many years ago, I was told never to wait for what I wanted. That if we laid all our hopes on those of others, we were destined for sadness. I promised myself I would not settle for anything other than love if I married, and if that did not eventuate that I would resolve myself to be fulfilled with only me for company. That I would not miss out on the world's gifts merely because I was unable to be someone's wife."

Mr. Armstrong took a sip of his amber liquid, watching her over the brim of his glass. "Your friend sounds a little jaded."

"She was and rightfully so. Although, I promised her that I would never be taken in by false promises and sweet words, and I haven't so far. Now at my age," Molly said, smiling a little. "It is becoming less likely each year."

Mr. Armstrong cocked one brow. Her stomach twisted at the wicked, amused glance he threw her. "From where I am sitting, Miss Clare, you are far from invulnerable." He finished his drink, setting it down with a clink. "Would you like to attend a party with me this evening? They are acquaintances, business associates I deal with in Rome. They're not titled or whom you're used to socializing with back in London, but they are good company and would welcome you if you attended."

Heat crept across her skin, and Molly took a sip of her wine, hoping her flush would not spread across her cheeks. She was not invulnerable? Whatever did he mean by such a statement? "I shall be safe enough. I have you to guard me. Have I not?" she said.

He chuckled, nodding. "Of course."

"Then I shall like to attend with you. If you're certain, it will be welcome." She studied him a moment, wondering about his past also. "You left London yourself. Why is it that you ended up in Rome?"

He frowned, sitting forward, his attention lost on the burning wood in the grate. "I disagreed with my family and could not stay. They granted funds to start my life here in Rome, and I accepted. I shall never return to London."

The thought that she would never see this man grace the floorboards of the great London homes left a pang of regret to lodge in her stomach. She didn't want to never see him again, and it was unlikely that she would ever return to Rome.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Armstrong. I'm not certain that I could be estranged from my family forever."

"Sometimes," he said, "estrangement is necessary for one's sanity. In any case, I have lived here for many years and love it as much as I loved my life before leaving London. I no longer miss it too much."

"May I ask one more question?" she asked, finishing her drink and placing it, too, on the table before them both. His gaze met hers, and she fought the urge to fan her face. He was so very intense. His attention fixed on hers with such fervor that one couldn't help but think he was reading her mind. No gentleman had ever paid so much attention to her or spent so much time.

"If you wish to?" He leaned back in his chair, waiting.

"What is your given name?" she asked.

All tension fled his features, and he chuckled, his smile just as devastating as the sound of his deep, rich voice that was suggestive as hell.

"Hugh. My name is Hugh, Miss Clare. And yours?" he queried.

"Molly," she said, feeling oddly embarrassed by their admissions. "May I ask one more question?" she continued, daring herself to be bold. To seek what she wanted. Not that asking for a man's name was so very scandalous, but women were taught not to be so forward. A lesson hard to unlearn.

"Yes," he said.

"May I call you Hugh instead of Mr. Armstrong when we're alone,