Lady Guinevere and the Rogue with a Brogue - Julie Johnstone Page 0,43

lady’s reputation should be Kilgore’s concern, too, given she obviously had a tendre for him. Or at least Asher thought she did.

“I’m certain I do not know of what you speak,” Lady Constantine said as the last course was served.

Kilgore opened his mouth as if to spill the secrets he knew, but then he promptly shut it and shrugged. “My servant must have been misinformed. I’m bored of the topic anyway. Let’s move on to more fascinating things, such as Lady Guinevere.”

“Kilgore!” Guinevere cried out, and her gaze flew past Asher to Lady Constantine. Asher found himself looking to the lady, as well. She appeared undeniably stricken. It was yet one more reason he ought to put his fist in Kilgore’s face.

Asher leaned forward so that he and Kilgore were staring at each other. “Ye deserve a sound thrashing.”

“And you think you’re the man to deliver it to me?” Kilgore’s very presence made Asher want to push back his chair and yank him from his seat.

“He might just be, Kilgore,” Lady Lilias said.

“Why don’t ye test me?” Asher offered to Kilgore as their hostess stood and announced the women would now retire to the drawing room.

“Gentlemen,” Guinevere said, her voice low and urgent, “do not, I beg you, act like children.”

“I’m more than happy to test you,” Kilgore snarled, not acknowledging that Guinevere had even spoken.

She turned to Asher with imploring eyes. “Your Grace,” she said, barely above a whisper. She glanced around as if to ensure no one was paying them any mind. “Please be reasonable.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to deny her request, part of him feeling like she was pleading with him out of concern for Kilgore, but when she said, “One of you must be reasonable,” he nodded, and Guinevere exhaled a relieved breath. If he was going to get answers from her, he needed to get her alone, and he doubted she’d be inclined to agree to that if he refused to aid her now.

“Might I escort ye to the drawing room?” he asked.

Guinevere’s eyes went wide. “It’s simply not done,” she said softly. “The ladies take their leave and the men stay here, and well…and—”

He knew she was going to mention they should not be alone. “I never was one for all the rules ye English keep to,” he replied as the dining room emptied of all the women but herself and Lady Constantine, who had her head turned to speak to Lady Lilias, who was bent down and saying something in the woman’s ear. Lady Lilias rose, and with a look at him, she departed the dining room.

“I remember your dislike of the rules,” Guinevere said. Her smile seemed so genuine it could almost make him believe he had long ago misunderstood the kiss he’d seen her share on the terrace with Kilgore. Except that would make him a clot-heid.

“If you would escort me there, as well?” Lady Constantine nudged, and he knew she was trying to help him how she deemed best or perhaps Lady Lilias had asked Lady Constantine to do so. It seemed Guinevere’s friend might wish for him to court Guinevere, which surprised him. Maybe Lady Lilias disliked Kilgore. Asher could wholeheartedly understand that sentiment.

He nodded. The three of them stood and made their way past the men in the dining room, who were already getting more boisterous, and into the main hall. He listened to the two women exchange idle chitchat as he tried to think how to actually get a moment alone with Guinevere.

When they moved from the main hall into the empty corridor that would lead them to the drawing room, Lady Constantine said, “Oh my! I forgot my shawl.”

“Oh,” Guinevere said, “we can walk you back—”

“No need.”

And Lady Constantine, his new favorite friend, turned on her heel, effectively cutting off any protest Guinevere might have thought to lodge. They stood there just the two of them, so close her lily scent tickled his nose. He could have stood there with her all night just breathing her in, but he knew they did not have long before someone undoubtedly came along.

“If I recall,” he started to say to finish their remarks from the dining room. But suddenly his mind went to time spent with her years before—from their lively conversations about Parliament, to the way she had two left feet when she danced, to her rich laughter, to the silky feel of her small hand in his. His thoughts settled firmly on the