Luke hadn’t taken his eyes from her since he had entered the barn. It was a near impossible feat.
“Go on with your work. I don’t want to interrupt you.” Luke squatted beside her. “I have often wondered how one goes about milking a cow.”
“Uh…”
A becoming shade of pink climbed her neck and infused her round cheeks. He shouldn’t tease her before revealing he knew her identity, but the lengths she would go to in order to fool him were impressive. He awaited her next move with great anticipation.
“You don’t mind if I watch, do you?” he asked.
She hesitated, but then shook her head. The curls gathered at her nape swung in a gentle arc along her back. He itched to loosen the tie confining her hair and run his fingers through the fine strands. He made a fist and held it against his thigh. It wouldn’t do to treat her with anything other than the respect her station deserved.
“Go on. Don’t be shy on account of my presence.”
She closed her eyes, her darker lashes lying against her rosy skin. Perhaps she hoped when she opened them again, he would be gone.
No such luck.
She stole a quick sideways glance at him then directed her attention back to the milker. “There, there, Maggie.” Patting the animal’s side, she eased her hand under the cow, her lip curling. When the tips of her fingers touched the creature’s udders, she snatched her hand back with a soft squeal.
Luke concealed his amusement behind a fake cough. “Are the udders cold?”
Lady Vivian frowned, expressing her disdain with a lift of her nose. “They feel like flesh, my lord, but I wouldn’t expect someone like you to be privy to such information.”
“Fascinating. Just like flesh, you say? Please continue, unless you have changed your mind about milking.”
Her mouth set in a grim line. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
He admired her determination.
Taking a deep, halting breath first, she shot out her arm and seized one of the udders. A strangled moo ripped from the cow, and the animal stomped close to Lady Vivian’s foot. The lady jerked back with a cry and kicked over the pail of milk.
“Oh, drat it all anyway!”
Luke chuckled and reached out to stroke her shoulder in a comforting gesture before realizing what he was doing.
Her body grew rigid under his touch. “My lord! What, pray tell, are you doing?”
Luke dropped his hand. “My apologies. I didn’t mean—” He took a deep breath to regain control over his rapid heartbeat. “Lady Vivian, let’s end all pretenses, shall we? You are not a servant any more than I am, and I would hazard a guess that you have never milked a cow.”
Ice blue eyes, so light they reminded him of melted silver, turned on him. The defiant spark he had seen moments earlier dimmed. “You knew at dinner.”
“Yes, I’m afraid I did.” When her shoulders drooped forward, he took her hand in his. The need to ease her discomfort welled up inside him, confusing and yet too strong to ignore. “It is an honor to make your acquaintance, my lady.”
Raising her hand, he placed a chaste kiss on her fingers. Her skin was soft and warm against his lips. He hesitated to release her from his light grasp. This was an intimacy he had never experienced upon an introduction, the feel of a lady’s bare skin. Pushing the limits of propriety, he gently turned her arm to bare her wrist and grazed his mouth over the sensitive spot.
Lady Vivian trembled, her eyes wide. “Lord Ellis, release me. Please.” She yanked her arm from his hold.
Luke’s stomach dipped. What the hell was he doing? He aimed a cool smile at her. “Allow me to correct a misconception, Lady Vivian. I’m not Lord Ellis. I sent word to Lady Brighthurst three days ago. I am your intended.”
He didn’t know why he introduced himself in such a manner. When he had set out for Brighthurst House, he’d had no intention of fulfilling his father’s promise. Nothing had changed, except his unconscionable impulse to take liberties not belonging to him. Luke eased away from her, remembering himself.
Lady Vivian twisted on the stool to face him. She held her tongue, but an array of emotions flickered across her countenance until impatience threatened to claw through him.
“What are you thinking, Lady Vivian?”
She licked her lips, chipping away at his determination to release her from this farce of a betrothal.
“Do you wish for complete honesty, Your Grace?”
He grinned for real this time,