“Oof,” she said against his fingers. It was a wonder he hadn’t toppled the entire stage box onto its side.
“I swear he came this way,” said an imperious female voice. “But I don’t see him anywhere.”
Another soft female voice said something Mari didn’t catch.
“Humph,” said the other woman. “Who wants a viscount when there is a duke for the catching? He hasn’t shown any interest in a lady in years. You’re going to be the next Duchess of Banksford, or my name isn’t Hermione Geraldine Harriett Penelope Somerset.”
Mari stilled. Who was speaking? And why was she so sure Edgar would be marrying?
Edgar. The man who was currently squashed against her, one large hand over her mouth, the other circling her waist, his arm protecting her from a ridge in the wooden wall behind them.
So considerate. So... aroused?
There was another ridge in front of her. Pressing into her belly.
She’d decided to be scandalous, hadn’t she? She wriggled closer, relaxing against his solid bulk.
“Great-Aunt, I told you,” the soft female voice wailed, “the ride meant nothing. Laxton is the man I love. He’ll offer for me, I know he will. He only wants a little more coaxing. He has a very cautious nature.”
“Lady Blanche,” Mari whispered, only it came out sounding likelmmblumphbecause of the hand over her mouth.
The tips of her breasts tingled where they pressed against his waistcoat buttons. His hand was still cupped over her mouth, bending her neck back. She extended her tongue and tasted his fingers.
Warmth and salt. A memory of ink. A hint of steel from the foundry.
She forgot all about the ladies beyond the curtain.
This was exactly what she’d been picturing when she thought about being scandalous, about taking risks.
Gather ye dukes while ye may.
The thought made her giggle against his fingers. She felt reckless and wild.
And fully awake, for the first time in her life.
“Didn’t Lady India say he had an errand in the stables?” said Lady Blanche. “Hadn’t we better go and see if he’s still there?”
“I saw him come this way, I tell you.”
“Perhaps you were mistaken. It could have been Ravenwood, you know. They are of much the same size and coloring.”
“Oh very well. We’ll go to the stables.”
“And if Banksford’s not there, may we leave?”
“My dear, I simply don’t understand you. Don’t you want to be a duchess? When I was your age, I would have committed anything short of murder for the opportunity to...”
Their voices trailed away.
“They’re gone,” he whispered in her ear. She noticed that he didn’t pull away, didn’t stop holding her.
He didn’t want Lady Blanche.
She threaded her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his hair.
He held perfectly still for the space of several heartbeats.
And then his hand left her mouth, and his lips replaced it.