It could not possibly be the feel of his palm upon her back, or the way his gloved hand enveloped hers. It could not be the scent of sandalwood and leather and lemon wafting about her, or the sense that if she were to caress his chest with hers, the entire world might become positively delicious and aglow. A promise of some unimagined pleasure that would steal her away from this humdrum life.

“Am I boring you?” he asked abruptly.

Her reverie slipped away, and she took in his visage. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’ve gone quite silent,” he observed. “I occasionally have that effect on women but…not you.”

She grinned. “My thoughts are anything but boring.”

“May I inquire as to their subject?” he asked.

“I’m thinking about you,” she said honestly.

“What?” he said, nearly tripping, the first indication that he was not always the height of grace.

She easily righted him and smiled as if nothing had occurred.

She nodded then continued, “I was thinking about you, and I was thinking about the fact that we played together when I was a child.”

“I did notplay, Lady Jacqueline,” he drawled.

She raised her brows. “No? Was it an imaginary friend that I had, with the name James, who swung from ropes into our lake?”

He laughed, a full, wonderful sound that tumbled past his lips and filled the air. And the entire room seemed to stop and stare. She felt the attention of everyone upon them, and it was the oddest feeling.

“I confess. I do recall it,” he said, his voice warming. “Many happy hours in the summer sun by your lake. You, too,” he said, “I recall, swinging from the rope and into the water, though you were but a small thing.”

“I am ever the adventurer, Your Grace,” she replied cheerfully.

“So I see, and now, this seems an excellent segue to your next adventure.” He gave her a most pleased look. “I have a plan for you.”

“You have?” she queried, her breath catching in her throat. “Please do tell me about it.”

“I have a list of gentlemen who I think would be perfect for you and will give you exactly what you requested.”

“What I requested?” she repeated, stunned. “Surely such a thing is not possible,” she added.

“It is,” he stated. “If one is willing to be a little bit patient and willing to put up with a few minor details.”

His optimism was such that she found herself hanging on his every word.

Still, in his arms, she found herself rather opposed to discussing her future spouse. Even though she knew that the only reason why she was in his arms right now was because of her upcoming nuptials to whomever he found.

“Do tell,” she said at last, finding her insides quaking with anticipation and a touch of dread.

“Well, there is the Lord Tewkesbury,” he began triumphantly, “Lord Gravesend, Lord Taunton, and Lord—”

“Stop!” she said, horror dawning. “Immediately!”

He blinked and tripped again at her fierceness.

She caught him again, but not before he trod upon her toe. A yelp nearly passed her lips, but she swallowed it just in time. “I am apparently capable of surprising you,” she gritted out.

“Indeed, you are. Was it necessary for you to bellow?”

“I did not bellow,” she corrected, trying not to hobble. “But for a very graceful, charming person, you are behaving in an appalling manner, and I should truly just allow you to fall flat on your face on the floor.”

“Well, this is surprisingly ungrateful.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical