A minute later, he’d assisted the lady into the vehicle as well as the canine. Then he addressed his driver. “Please drive to Hyde Park and along Rotten Row. Despite the rain, it’s a lovely day. Afterward, take a circuitous path through Mayfair before returning here.”
“As you like, Doctor.” Rain dripped from the brim of his hat. “I personally like the rain, so I’ll enjoy the ride.”
“Thank you.” Royce joined Isobel in the carriage. He settled on the squabbed bench opposite her as the vehicle lurched into motion. By the time he’d rested his bag on the seat next to him, the lady had somewhat gained control of herself. “Why does the news of Mrs. Storme’s pregnancy really send you into a brown study? I assumed you were opposed to marriage and domestication in all its forms.” Hadn’t she more or less told him that upon their first meeting?
“I am.” Isobel wiped away the remainder of the moisture on her cheeks. She stared out the window, for the curtains had been shoved open while Ivan bounced between the benches as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “This news simply means yet another of my friends is moving into aspects of life I’ll not have—widening the gulf between us—and being left behind in something infinitely boring.”
“That’s understandable.” He was still unclear of what she did indeed want for her life. “I have my brother Trey, but my other chums have dreams they chase that don’t necessarily align with mine. Even your cousins have vastly different lives than they did when I met them at Christmastide last year.”
She glanced at him with eyes that were still haunted. “Does it bother you, not having friends who have things in common with you?”
“Sometimes, but I’m not looking for responsibilities like they are.” He shrugged. It was perhaps the most honest truth he’d shared with anyone besides Trey. “I’m content to work at the clinic and to have no claims upon my time, while men like your cousins Andrew and Finn are their happiest being wed and starting families. There is no wrong way to live one’s life.”
For whatever reason, Isobel snickered. “Then you’re a rogue?” Interest wove through her voice. “That is something I could throw my support behind.”
He snorted. Ivan barked. The dog nudged one of Royce’s hands with his nose until he received the pets he wanted. “I don’t know about that. I’d have to have a title and bed more women than I have currently.” Admitting he wasn’t a lady’s man sent heat up the back of his neck. “To say nothing about the ability to court scandal. I’d be rubbish at playing the rogue. A bachelor yes, but the other, not really.”
Dear God, I’m babbling! Make it stop!
A glint of something twinkled in her eyes. “You could, you know.”
“What, be a rogue?” He shook his head. “Quite frankly, I haven’t the time.”
“No, court scandal.” With a grin curving her kissable lips, Isobel transferred from her bench to his. Her floral scent wafted to his nose. “With me.” When Ivan tried to thrust his body between them, she moved him to the narrow aisle. Deep in the depths of her eyes, sadness still lurked, but it was the deviltry dancing there that held him captive. “If you so choose.”
Finally, they’d come to the fork in the road. Apprehension and anticipation twisted down his spine. Which would win? While Ivan whined from the floor and Isobel put him on the opposite bench, Royce thought about her words. “What sort of scandal? We already skirted it the other night with those kisses.”
She waved a hand then let her fingers glide down his right arm. “That was naught but a baby scandal and one I’ve indulged in with other men before.”
Something akin to jealousy lanced through Royce’s chest. He didn’t want to think about her kissing other men. He glanced at her, caught the golden flecks swimming through those sapphire pools of her eyes, and desire tightened his shaft. “I’m not one to blatantly wish to cause a sensation like you.”
Briefly, she narrowed her gaze. “Then you’re not for scandal?”
“I didn’t say that.” The last thing he wanted was for her to slip from his grasp.
“Good.” She caressed her fingers up and down his arm. Ivan jumped to their bench and attempted to worm his body between them, but Isobel was quite skilled in moving him to her far side. “Should we let impulse guide us then? I don’t enjoy making plans that might need breaking later. Especially with how precarious the situation at home is,” she added, and the pain in her eyes was more pronounced.
The poor thing! In the face of her rapidly changing circumstances, she was obviously in need of distraction. Alarm bells went off in his head, but blatant need spurred him onward. “I don’t see why not. As long as we try to conduct ourselves with discretion. I do have a professional image to protect as well as your reputation.”
She leaned into him. “You don’t believe I can be discreet?” The smoky quality of her voice had his prick waking while the warmth of her breath skating across his neck over his cravat nearly drove him insane. All the while Ivan jumped from one bench to the other in the hopes he could gain attention.
Very much like his mistress. How exceedingly odd.
“You tell me, for already your exploits have fueled the gossipmongers.” When she huffed, he rushed to continue. “However, I do have one rule.”
“Oh?” She dared to trace a fingertip along his earlobe, and he nearly vaulted from the bench. “What is it?”
Acute awareness poured over him. Isobel was a storm, all right, but not the kind a man should run from. Oh no. She was the sort a man chased until he found himself caught up in the middle of it. As much as he wanted to touch her, explore her, he held back, for once he did that, he’d be lost and he wanted the terms of this agreement fixed. “While you and I are enjoying this tryst—”
“Affair,” she corrected as she slipped her hand from his arm to rest it on his thigh.
He audibly gulped. “Affair, then,” he conceded, for that meant more time in her company, “I want your full fidelity. I want your word I’ll be the only man you grant favors to.”
“Of course.” She squeezed her fingers on his thigh. Need tightened his shaft to the point of pain. “I might enjoy playing men against each other for my attention, but I only give my true self to one at a time.”
“Good.” Royce rather doubted she’d let anyone see who she really was beneath the façade of a hoyden. “Where and how shall we begin?”
“What about now?” Before he could dissuade her, Isobel moved. She straddled his lap, resting her hands on his shoulders. The need in her eyes he understood, but the longing at the backs he did not. “Doctor Marsden, I want you to kiss me so I can decide how to create a scandal sufficient enough for hooking you.”