“I’m fairly certain that is considered an affair.”
“We keep trying to deny it, Duke, but it keeps happening, no matter the circumstances.”
“I know.”
“I’m not certain what we can do about it.”
“We already said we would not let it happen again,” he reminded her. “After that first kiss.”
A wistful smile curved across her mouth. He didn’t like it. Or perhaps he did. Because it meant she was doing the same as him—remembering the first touch of their lips. Recalling the first time he’d felt the sensations rushing between them like a river current that couldn’t be controlled.
It still could not be controlled, no matter how much he swam against it.
“Perhaps...” Her throat bobbed. “Perhaps we just keep it at that.”
“Keep it at what?”
“Sometimes we just kiss...when we feel like we want to.”
Duke resisted a wry chuckle. She spoke as though she was telling him they’d take tea together occasionally or play a round of croquet every Saturday.
“Friends do not kiss,” he pointed out. He was not going to mention the fact they had done a lot more than just kiss on the way here.
“Not usually. But for some reason, we do.”
“Well, we shall just have to try harder.”
She gave a vague nod and removed her hand from his then turned to look out of the carriage window. “Yes. We’ll just try harder,” she murmured.
Duke pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the slow ache of a headache reaching up from the back of his neck. It was simple really. Don’t kiss Violet and find his father.
The throbbing in his head increased.
Chapter Seventeen
“My goodness, your feet are freezing.” Violet pulled her legs away from her sister’s icy toes and hauled the blankets up higher around her ears to fend off the chill her sister’s arrival in her bed had brought with her.
“This is why we need dogs,” Ivy said. “They are far better than a warming brick.” Her sister burrowed into Violet’s side.
A rumble in the distance pierced Violet’s sleep-fogged mind and she shifted closer to Ivy and looped an arm around her shoulders. Bed ropes creaked as the two of them settled into a position they had slept in many times since they were younger, most especially when thunderstorms were in the vicinity. They never much bothered Violet unless one counted an annoyance at being kept awake by the noise, but Ivy loathed them because of the time she’d been caught in one when she had been but a little girl.
“You know we cannot own dogs,” Violet reminded her.
“But just imagine how lovely and warm you would be if we had one.”
“With how cold your toes are, we’d need a dozen, not one.”
Ivy sighed. “A dozen would be wonderful.”
“We stole the Prince Regent’s dog, Ivy. We can never own a dog. Ever.”
Violet smoothed a hand up and down her sister’s back. Even behind her closed eyelids, she saw the flash of lightening and an almost immediate thunderclap told her the storm moved closer. Rain pattered loudly against the windowpane.
“I do not see what harm could come from owning one really.” Ivy shifted closer, burrowing her head against Violet’s shoulder. “If I had a dog, I would not need to sneak into my sister’s room during thunderstorms.”
“But then what would I do during thunderstorms if not comfort you?”
“Most likely sleep through them.”