Lady Vivian Defies a Duke - By Samantha Grace Page 0,83
trust me enough?”
“Of-of course, I do.” She forced a smile to ease his worries, but her lips trembled. He placed his gently against hers. Could he taste her lie?
If he did, he gave no indication. He parted her lips and touched the tip of his tongue to hers. They shared one breath, their life forces in harmony, before their mouths came together fully. He buried his fingers into her hair and kissed her deeply.
Her will to hold on to him flickered to life. Each drink from his lips fed her desperation. Perhaps he would understand. Maybe he would come to forgive her, given time.
She surrendered to self-deception just as she did to his kiss.
Eventually, he drew back and brushed her hair behind her ear. “As much as I love kissing you, this isn’t the reason I came to see you.”
She stomach dropped. “Oh?”
“The marriage contract arrived by messenger this afternoon. I’ve arranged for Mother and my brother to witness our signatures on the morrow. Richard will be available at noon.”
“So soon?” She could barely swallow around the lump in her throat again.
Signing the contract without first informing Luke of the risks associated with marrying her made her feel dirty. It was true some women lied about their virtue. Gentlemen occasionally lied about their worth, too. And anyone could pretend to be amiable when they were more often cantankerous or claim a love for poetry when they found it a waste of time. Nevertheless, Vivi had never considered becoming one of those people.
Luke’s neutral mask fell back into place. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“No! Heavens, no!” At least not about him.
“Then we shall convene tomorrow at noon in my study.” He tapped the end of her nose with his finger. “Don’t be late, water sprite, or I will be cross.”
“But shouldn’t we wait? For just a little while? Patrice would want to know, and it would only take a few days for a letter to reach Brighthurst.”
A muscle shifted at his jaw. “Vivian, what is truly concerning you? Your cousin knew we planned to marry. You will have time to inform her before we speak our vows. Has something happened to cause you doubt?”
“No! Nothing.” Double molasses! She couldn’t cost Owen his livelihood again. “I will be there,” she murmured.
“And you must be on time.”
“You are beginning to sound more and more like a stuffy old duke.”
He graced her with his heart-stopping grin. “Become accustomed to it, love. You will have a lifetime of dealing with me.”
She hoped that was true.
***
Luke had never been one to look forward to social gatherings with enthusiasm, but he had arrived for dinner as eagerly as a boy awakening on Christmas morn. Vivian made him feel alive and grounded in a way nothing ever had.
He tried not to think on their earlier exchange. Her reluctance to sign the agreement could be nothing more than a case of nerves. Her response didn’t mean she had lost confidence in him. He had been repeating this all afternoon, but the words had little effect on the underlying sense of dread lurking in the shadows.
Her warm hand closed around his arm reassuringly. Perhaps he should whisk her away from the dull game of charades and discover a way to reassure her. With too many people to witness their exit, however, they were stuck.
Mr. Shaw was reenacting King Lear, although if Luke didn’t know his mother always included the work in any game of charades she organized, he would have been as lost as everyone else.
“Don’t just stand there with your eyes closed,” Lord Flockton huffed, his full cheeks a shiny red. “Act it out, man.”
“I am.” Mr. Shaw squeezed his eyes tighter. “Can’t you see I’m blind?”
“No talking,” Lady Connick called out then swung her head side to side until she located Luke’s mother. “He cannot talk, can he, Your Grace? He should be disqualified.”
Mr. Shaw’s eyes popped open. “Disqualified! But I was defending my honor. Lord Flockton said I was doing nothing when clearly I was acting out blindness.”
His mother smiled graciously, a lively sparkle in her eyes. “Lady Connick is correct, I’m afraid. There is no talking in charades, but I shall allow it this once. Perhaps you should provide another clue, Mr. Shaw.”
He nodded then pursed his lips as if deep in thought before slapping his hands over his eyes.
“Let me guess,” Luke’s brother Drew said with an amused drawl. “You’re blind.”
“Yes.” Mr. Shaw flashed a broad smile. “And I wear a crown.”