goosebumps. My gaze darted between them. Amelia searched his eyes with a passionate intensity that gave away her answer even before her lips spoke it.
"Perhaps, but you must have a care. I will not share you." She nodded and straightened her posture, waiting for him to affirm his loyalty.
"There's nothing of me to share, Amelia. You already own it all." He whispered so softly I almost missed the deep, rich timbre of his sincere words. "I already spoke with your father, if that is what concerns you. And in case you were uncertain, he gave his permission."
"Can you forgive me for my lack of faith in you? And for shredding your lovely roses?" she added with a grin.
"Oh, I think I'll find a way for you to make it up to me." His rakish gaze took in her face and then dipped down along her body. I looked away, embarrassed. She slapped him playfully, and he laughed.
"Well!" Groves interrupted." Now that we've settled, um, everything…" He cleared his throat again. "I'll just be bringing in some tea."
After offering congratulations, I excused myself as well, grinning the entire way home.
Chapter Thirteen
The ballroom was all abuzz with the news of Amelia's engagement to Lord Heath. There was no way I could keep the smile off my face whenever I gazed at them, which was often.
"They make a handsome couple," said Morgan's voice from behind me. Barely resisting the temptation to lean into his hard body, I turned to look at his face instead.
"They do; I couldn't be happier for them," I commented, looking again at the happy couple.
"I never thought I'd see the day when Heath settled down." He shook his head in amusement. "A true rogue, that one."
"Ah, I know. I gave him a nickname immediately. Amelia and I found it quite amusing."
"Oh? What was it?"
"Lord Rake."
"Good heavens. It fits."
"I know. He took it as a compliment."
"He would." He nodded and then squinted his eyes. "Wait, you called him 'Lord Rake' to his face?" he asked, amazed.
"Of course."
"I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned."
"Impressed, be impressed."
He smiled and shook his head at me.
"Whatever are you going to do with me?" I teased, giving him a saucy smile.
His eyes lost their merriment and took on a predatory glint. They fixed on my lips, and he licked his slowly and raised his eyebrow. "Oh, I can think of a great many things."
"Now who should be called Lord Rake?" I whispered.
"Should I take it as a compliment as well?
"As long as your roguish charm is only aimed at me, then yes. You most certainly can." I lowered my eyelashes with my bold comment.
"As you wish, Miss Westin." He bent and picked up my hand, kissing it, not the air above it. After an overly long moment, I felt my skin flush and prickle. "Care for a dance?"
"With you? Always." I tried to keep my voice from sounding breathy, but failed. The spark in Morgan's eyes told me he was aware of the effect he had on me.
The reel was fun, and I ended up dancing part of it as Lord Heath's partner, adding to the merriment. After our final bow — or curtsey in my case — Morgan escorted me to the balcony overlooking the Wingshire's garden and maze. The evening was young, at least by ton standards, and the moon had just risen over the horizon. Miraculously the sky was clear for the moment, giving us the perfect view.
"This way." Morgan tugged on my gloved hand as I turned my attention from the night sky to where he pulled me gently to a small spiral staircase.
"Do you know where you're going?" I asked, noticing how dark it had become.
"Of course."
"Ah, you've taken many ladies this direction, hmm?" I half teased, half tested.
"Not so many, and most were of the six-year-old variety, so no reason to be jealous," he countered back, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
"Six-year-old variety, hmm? I'm told they are the worst," I joked, thankful.
"Yes, well, I was only eight at the time, so I really can't be held responsible for my actions."
"I'm sure you caused quite the scandal."
"Oh, I did," he affirmed with a laugh. "I was here with my mother, God rest her soul, and was to stay in the nursery with the Wingshires' twin girls. Not where an eight-year-old wants to be. So we snuck out, made our way down here, and looked for our mothers."
"Did you find them?" I asked as I