Lady Vivian Defies a Duke - By Samantha Grace Page 0,45
course given Vivian’s peevish reaction earlier.
He could apologize for taking liberties and promise to be more considerate in the future. A vow he didn’t wish to make, because the memory of her sweet taste was already making him hard again.
Or… A slow grin spread across his face. He could admit how much he had enjoyed kissing her and reveal all the ribald things he wished to do to her.
His smile slipped. No, that wouldn’t do at all, would it?
He cleared his throat, uncertain what he would say next. “I fear I forgot myself earlier, Lady Vivian. I beg your forgiveness for my coarse treatment.”
She turned toward him, her eyes expanding a fraction before she regained control of her composure. Stone-faced, she returned her attention to the rutted lane. “Of course, Your Grace.”
Her curt forgiveness sucked the life from him. Well, what had he expected? He hadn’t wanted her wrath. Or worse, tears. But he desired something more from her than a cool dismissal.
He opened his mouth then snapped it closed again.
Devil take it. He didn’t know what he wanted. His thoughts and feelings were as indistinguishable as the ingredients in Cook’s fruit-and-nut cake. And he didn’t know if he cared to explore what any of them were: fruit, nuts, or feelings.
“Are you as skilled in riding sidesaddle as you are astride?” he asked at last. “I wouldn’t wish for you to take a tumble. From the horse, I mean.”
Vivian frowned. “What else could you mean, Your Grace?”
His throat shrunk two sizes too small. “I— There is no other meaning. Do you intend to answer my question?”
“It seems a bit late for worry, wouldn’t you agree?”
Luke’s brow lifted. “Is it?”
Now that they had kissed, perhaps she would hold him accountable for his behavior and insist upon marriage.
“If I were unsafe,” she said, her tone hassled, “it would be obvious by now, wouldn’t you agree? I have already mounted and ridden a good hour.”
All this talk of tumbling, mounting, and riding was not accomplishing what he’d intended. He wanted to forget about his urges to have her beneath him.
“Let’s see a demonstration of your skill.” He squeezed the reins tightly and cursed under his breath. “Your equestrienne skill, that is.”
She cocked her head, her frown lines deepening. “Yes, I took your meaning the first time, Your Grace.”
Good Lord, her innocence made him feel like the worst of lechers. Every thought he had bordered on vulgar.
“What type of demonstration do you propose?” she asked.
“We mustn’t stay to the road. Let’s explore the terrain.”
“All right.” An animated spark flashed in her eyes, her formal manner melting away. How he admired her fire. Vivian was typically game for most anything.
Of course, there was no true danger to her, or any surprise for him as to what lay over the next hill. They had entered one of his lesser properties where they would stay the night. Perhaps two. He no longer felt any urgency to reach Irvine Castle, for various reasons. Most notably, he wished to keep Vivian out of reach of those debauchees, Brookhaven and Collier.
Having either man in close proximity to her made Luke want to break something. When he hadn’t been able to decide earlier between an arm, leg, or neck, he determined the best choice would be to lose the men.
The lesser-traveled road also made it possible to free Vivian from the boredom that must have been plaguing her in the carriage. She wasn’t any more accustomed to being confined than he, which was another reason to postpone the inevitable arrival at Irvine Castle. Once they arrived and husband hunting began, she would be under much scrutiny.
“Wait here a moment.” He rode back to the carriage and signaled to Drew that he and Vivian would reconvene with them at Twinspur Cottage. Then he led Vivian toward the glen.
The canopy of leaves blocked the strong afternoon sunlight, casting everything in muted color. Tension drained from him as he breathed in the earthy scents: soil, leaf mold, and fallen logs. The fragrance was primitive, the simplest building blocks of life, and free from pretention.
Vivian and her horse plodded along behind. She kept her silence as the forest absorbed them, closing them off from the world at large. The ground slanted downward toward a brook, the soft trickle barely audible in the midst of the horses’ hooves crunching leaves.
Upon reaching the shallow waters, he urged Thor to walk upstream. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted with satisfaction Vivian didn’t pause before guiding her horse into