CHAPTER9
“Lady Phoebe,” he drawled as he slowly turned to her, seeming to know who was in the shadows before seeing her face. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were following me.”
Phoebe smiled as she stood from the bench where she had been taking a moment alone, away from the people and the prying eyes of the ballroom, and stepped out into the light of the moon and that from the house above them.
“Would that not be my line, Lord Berkley, as I was out here first?”
He tapped his cheroot against his leg.
“I am sorry to intrude,” he managed.
She shrugged, ignoring his words as she took in the offensive instrument swirling between his fingers.
“I do not understand the appeal.”
“Pardon me?”
“The appeal of those things,” she said, gesturing to the cheroot. “They smell disgusting, and while you may like them, everyone else has to breathe in your smoke as well. It is quite a selfish hobby.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her words before he glanced down at his hand. He seemed about to drop the cheroot but then paused for a moment. He smiled wickedly at her, then purposefully brought it to his lips, taking a deep inhale without breaking eye contact with her.
She narrowed her eyes at him, knowing he was purposefully continuing to smoke it in order to spite her, but decided that to say anything further would only give him additional pleasure. Instead she crossed her arms and waited for an answer to her question, and he finally acquiesced with a sigh.
“It’s just as you said — a hobby. I do not partake often, and nor do I typically do so unless I am with others who express a similar interest. I must say, however, Lady Phoebe, that many women enjoy the scent, or so I am told.”
“Have your sisters told you that?”
“No,” he said slowly.
“Well, I would ask them how they feel, as they are the young ladies who are most likely to be truthful and straightforward with you,” she said, waving a hand. “The rest, well, they say what you want to hear.”
“Not all the rest,” he said, stepping closer to her. “There is one in particular who does not seem inclined to hide her thoughts from me.”
Despite her bravado, when he stepped toward her, a headiness came over her. Perhaps she was simply overwhelmed by the dizzying array of scents surrounding her — the brandy on his breath through the smoke of the cheroot, which he had yet to bring to his lips once more, the spice of the scent that seemed to be emanating from his very body, all mixed within the rain-scented air. Or perhaps it was simply him. She was going about this all wrong. She was supposed to be flirting with him, to become closer with him, and yet here she was, vexing him all over again. “Forgive me, Lord Berkley, if I have offended you.”
“No offense taken,” he said, and she thought his eyes crinkled a bit as he grinned at her. Or perhaps that was simply a trick of the shadows. For he wouldn’t be actually pleased with her about this, now would he?
“I-I’m glad to hear it,” she responded, frowning when she heard the hitch in her voice. No man had ever made her cower before, and Lord Berkley was not going to be the first.
“Lady Phoebe,” he said slowly as he inched toward her once more, now dropping the cheroot on the stones of the garden path and grinding it out with his heel. “Would you mind if I called on you?”
“Called on me?” she echoed, sounded like a dim-witted idiot.
“Yes,” he said with a slight laugh. “As in, came to your home for a visit. A short visit. With your aunt present, of course — all aboveboard.”
She chuckled herself now. “I think you may have come to realize by now, Lord Berkley, that I am not particularly ‘aboveboard,’ as you say, when it comes to much.”
He smiled then, and Phoebe was shocked by how it changed his countenance. The ruggedness of his face, his prominent features, lost their edge, and he seemed actually … charming. Friendly, even. Certainly attractive.
“No, Lady Phoebe,” he said, his face descending dangerously close to hers. “You certainly are not.”
Before she could even contemplate his words or his actions any further, she let out a gasp, the sound lost when his lips descended on hers. His kissed her with some hesitation at first, as though he was questioning whether he should be doing so. But, Lord help her, as much as she knew she should resist, it was as though her body became disconnected from her mind, and not only did she return his kiss, but she pressed herself closer against him, feeling his warmth through the thin material of her silk dress.
This man thinks nothing of the value of women, she attempted to remind herself, but then his arms came around her back, and she let herself go with him.He believes your role should be to marry and to bear children — that’s all you’re good for.Oh, but now he was kissing her neck.
And, a small unwelcome voice told her from deep within the recesses of her mind,he also has four sisters whom he loves and respects. Clearly, he can’t be all bad?
And then she stopped thinking completely as his mouth returned to her lips, and his tongue teased against her seam and she opened to him. He was tasting her, teasing her, one hand still at her back, the other in her hair, his strong fingers kneading into her scalp as he ravaged her mouth with the abandon of a man who was starving for her touch.