Chapter Three
Frederica paused at a respectable distance from the marquess. “Will you help me?” Will you teach me how to kiss and flirt? She added that plea silently and waited with her breath held for his lordship’s reply. How would he truly react? With shock and disgust, or would he embrace her? What she did not anticipate was the sudden laughter that pulsed from him. His lordship scrubbed a hand over his face and slanted her another look of amused disbelief. “I have a mind to turn you over my knees.”
“You may,” she said magnanimously, her heart pounding so hard she felt faint, “if you believe it will help.”
At this provocative reply, he faltered into stillness. Something throbbed between them, an awareness that shouldn’t have existed, yet it shimmered in the air and caressed against her skin like the cold burn of ice. She swallowed, tempted to stretch up onto her toes and press her mouth to his. The dare would be won. However, Frederica had to accept this went beyond the dare, and she could not act in haste or without a clear understanding of herself and the marquess.
“It would be discipline,” he growled after a prolonged beat.
The pit of her stomach felt strange and fluttery. “Oh, I have read discipline and pleasure can be of the same coin.”
“And where did you hear this from?”
“Sheath your imaginary pistols and cancel that dawn appointment. It was a lady. A widow.”
He gave her a long, indecipherable look. His gaze was intent on her, as if what she had to say mattered greatly to him. Frederica always liked the warmth that blossomed through her whenever they sat and chatted.
“I’ve been remiss in investigating the friends you keep.”
“It was Plato who said when a tyrant first appeared, he comes as a protector.” Frederica smiled at his haughty expression. “It is always incomprehensible to the opposite sex that ladies have their own intelligence and can make decisions about their lives. Like the friendships we choose to cherish. I am perfectly capable of choosing my own friends, my lord.”
“Yet your friends speak to you about pleasures of the flesh and things you are not ready to know about,” he said icily.
“And who determines when I am ready to know about them?”
“Your guardian and your husband.”
She pursed her lips. “Rubbish. You know about them being a rake and whatnot. You remain unmarried. There is a clear argument for their mutual exclusiveness, my lord.”
He stepped so close to her, the hem of her dress brushed over his polished boots. Never before had he been this near to her, and for a wild moment, Frederica thought he meant to kiss her.
To her great annoyance, he chucked her lightly on her chin. “There will be no kissing between us, you outrageous minx,” he said, “Nor flirting or any lessons of seduction. We will retire to bed, and in the morning, it will be as if this conversation never happened, hmm?”
A piece of her heart broke. “You may, of course, refuse to be my teacher,” she said with false equanimity. God, she’d taken on a reckless and desperate gambit and failed miserably.
“Be careful with your implication,” he said softly.
“One cannot be too cautious in a matter such as this,” she said. “I am terribly fortunate I have several trusted sources.”
There was a moment of utter stillness.
“Should any gentleman be foolish enough to touch or kiss you before marriage, he will feel the full wrath of my displeasure, Frederica.”
Her hand fluttered to her lace collar in mock alarm. “Good heavens, you’ve used my full name. This could prove disastrous.”
“Do not make light of my promise.”
“I will ensure my discretion cannot be uncovered. Especially by you.”
“Freddie—” he began warningly.
She made a tut-tutting sound, not knowing where she got the withal to tease him when he had that deadly gleam in his eyes and stillness about him.
“There will be no flirtations or kisses with anyone,” he warned softly. “Permit me the name of the gentleman you have an interest in. There is no need to worry; I will not reveal your attachment. I will be discreet in my enquires about the potential for an alliance.”
“No,” she whispered, hating the ache in her throat and that she felt weepy. “I already know I lack beauty and connections and cannot admit to any great wit that enthralls a room. However, I have been quite lucky in recent friendships and with the gentleman my brother entrusted me to. I hope…I dearly hope to be as fortunate in my marriage. Even if he does not profess great love for me in the manner the great poets tell it. I pray the gentleman I eventually will choose likes me, my lord. I ask for little from life, but I would not want to spend the rest of my days with a man who does not esteem or admire me, even if in a small way. I do not want a business-like union. I would like to…take walks with him, perhaps even row on the lake once or twice, dance at balls and be sent flowers the morning after. I hope he will like me enough to woo me, and then even after we are married, he will still send me flowers and take long walks with me. That cannot be done by…by your methods.”
Frederica felt raw and vulnerable by the time she finished. And the marquess stared at her as if he was seeing her for the very first time. Good, she silently cried, see me.