The Duke’s Scandalous Kiss Read online

  Lorna never wanted to hurt like Julia did, and the only way to assure that was to never fall in love. It had been so easy to avoid doing so in the years since Ned’s death. No one even tempted her heart to open. She kept herself busy one way or another and never missed something she’d never felt. A bit of intrigue or adventure washed away all thoughts of romance, so Lorna was always on the alert for a chance to investigate.

  The tiny cheeps of baby birds brought her thoughts back to the garden and warmed her heart. New beginnings pleased her, whether it be friendships, babies, or puppies. One day her cousins would marry and have children and she’d have the experience of being an aunt.

  One of the baby birds’ cheeps sounded distressed. The noise came from the grass beneath a tree. Approaching with careful steps, Lorna discovered a chick had fallen from its nest. “You poor dear. Will your mother find you here to feed you?”

  More likely a cat would find it and feed on it. The lack of wing feathers told her it was too young to fly up into the tree.

  Lorna studied the branches, one of which was low enough to reach if she stretched up on her toes. She couldn’t swing herself onto a branch with the chick in her hand, though. “How am I to return you to your nest?”

  Bending low, she scooped the chick into her hands. The poor thing fluttered and cheeped frantically, its gray downy feathers puffing up. “Don’t fear, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  In fact, Lorna still wasn’t certain exactly what she was going to do with the chick. Glancing up at the branch and down again at the trembling creature, an idea came to her. She tucked the chick into the bodice of her gown. “There, that will keep you safe for the time being.”

  With the bird’s safety assured, she jumped and grasped the thick branch. Hanging for a few moments, she considered her next move. Walk up the trunk while she hung, or swing back and forth until she could pull herself up?

  Grandmama would be shocked to see Lorna swinging from the branch. She’d be no less shocked to see her climbing, but that method suggested her legs would be less exposed. She quickly climbed the trunk as she hung onto the branch and hooked one leg around it.

  “Lorna, what are you up to now?” Julia whispered loudly, stomping through the grass.

  “I’d think that’s quite obvious, Aunt.” She pulled herself upright, then checked to see that the baby bird was still safe. Balancing her feet on the narrow branch, she reached up to the nest above. The mama bird was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness. Stretching out her arm with the chick in her hand was precarious enough without a distressed mama bird pecking at her.

  Julia’s hands were fisted on her hips. “Come down from there before someone sees you.”

  The leaves on the tree were full enough that Lorna had little fear of being seen. “If you walk away and ignore me, no one will suspect anything is amiss. The way you stand with your exasperation and disapproval is so obvious, everyone will assume I’m doing something untoward, as usual.”

  Once the chick was in its nest beside its siblings, Lorna inched her way back to the trunk. Getting down proved more difficult than climbing up. Once again hanging from the branch, she released her grip and landed on her seat in the grass with an oomph.

  “Why must you always be so reckless? You’re too old to behave like a child.” Julia helped Lorna to her feet and batted at whatever clung to the back of her gown. “Look at this. Your gown has grass stains on your backside and dirt on the front.”

  Ignoring her aunt, Lorna pulled her gown and shift away from her breasts and peered down at the damp spot she felt there. Ugh.

  “Now what?”

  “The birdie, erm, relieved itself in my gown.”

  The expression on Julia’s face was worth the sticky mess. Her complexion turned green, then white, and she gagged before she regained her composure. She shook her head at Lorna in a perfect imitation of their grandmother. “We can’t go inside with you in such a state. What will we tell Grandmama? She’ll know we’re lying.”

  Excuses were never in short supply when Lorna suffered the results of enjoying herself. “I tripped over my hem and fell?”

  “Perhaps if you’d been walking backward that might work. The grass stains are on the back. And how do you explain the dirt down your front? You look like a fairy run amok.”

  “I’ll say I found a puppy and picked it up, and when it squirmed, making the front of my gown filthy, I lost my balance and fell.”

  Julia shook her head, her annoyance plain to see. “Let’s simply say you fell and leave it at that. Change the subject immediately thereafter.”

  Lorna brushed her gown and adjusted her bodice while they walked back to the house. They slipped around to the kitchen to ask someone to help her repair her gown. The poor maid took one look at Lorna and shook her head. Deciding the best course was to borrow a gown from their hostesses, the maid had Lorna looking fresh and clean in no time and she returned to the drawing room before she was missed.

  She’d never admit to anyone how refreshed she felt after these little adventures of hers, because they’d do their best to see she was kept from ever having fun again. These were her secret moments, except when Julia caught her, and she treasured the memories.

  Several days later, Lorna walked in the woods beside Grandmama’s property alone with her thoughts. The fog was just lifting, and birds sang sweetly. Lorna had slipped away before her aunt or grandmother would be awake. At least she hoped so. No one should notice her absence for an hour or two, at the least.

  Turning a bend, she started at the sight of a man approaching, leading his horse.

  “Good morning.” His voice warmed her heart with its familiarity. Everleigh was in the woods at Grandmama’s house.

  “Good day.” Not normally at a loss for words, Lorna couldn’t find anything bright and intelligent to say to him.

  “I don’t come across anyone this early, most days.” He smiled and her heart danced.

  “Why are you leading your horse?”

  Everleigh rubbed the white horse’s pale nose. “He hurt his hoof.”

  “Poor thing.” She stood on the other side of the horse’s head and stroked its neck. “You are a beautiful creature, aren’t you?”

  “You’d better make certain your cousins don’t hear you speaking that way toward me,” the duke replied. “They’ll think you’re begging for another kiss.”

  Lorna gasped, but was secretly delighted at his obvious flirting.

  He winked.

  “I spoke to your horse.” But she couldn’t deny the duke was a beautiful creature. His thick blond hair was tousled from his ride, his blue eyes bright, laughing.

  “Does this mean you don’t want a kiss?”

  She gasped at his audacity. “I didn’t ask for the first one, if you’ll recall. I didn’t even give you permission to do so.”

  “I should have done the same this time, if I’d wished to succeed,” he said evenly. His voice held no hint to whether he teased her or not.

  He was jesting, she was certain. He didn’t really want to kiss her.

  But she was stunned to realize she wanted him to. She couldn’t take her eyes away from those full lips curved up at the corners. “Perhaps…just one?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  One of his thick eyebrows rose. “As you wish.” He stepped around the horse’s head, lifting her chin as he came close. He drew his thumb across her lower lip. “So soft. So perfect.”

  The words were delightful to hear, but when would the kissing start? She leaned toward him and stretched on her toes.

  He covered her lips with his firm mouth, pressing harder than she expected. Harder than she’d ever imagined. His breath whispered over her skin. Her knees grew limp. She grasped his broad shoulders, unwilling to end the magical moment.

  Then he withdrew, a gleam sparkling in his eyes. “I hope that was comparable to the first.”

  Her face heated. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much she’d enj
oyed the brief exchange.

  “I must go,” Everleigh said. “Tristan is expecting me and I’m already late due to my horse’s injury. Will I see more of you while I’m here?”

  The duke was to be a guest at Grandmama’s house? Why hadn’t she considered that before she kissed him? Why hadn’t she asked what he was doing in their woods, so far from the road, so far from his home?

  Why was her heart beating so hard now that she knew he was staying?

  “Yes, I imagine so.”

  “Good,” he said simply, and led his horse down the path toward the house without another word.

  Chapter Four

  A week after the morning when his horse had thrown a shoe and injured its hoof, Everleigh once again rode the overgrown path that was a much shorter route to the Dowager Countess Margrave’s home than the main road. He was in a hurry to return since his last visit had been cut short when he’d been called back to Everleigh on the day he arrived. In addition to the business he had with Tristan, he had the excuse of exchanging the horse he’d borrowed for his own.

  He hoped to learn whether Tristan had learned anything about Barrington being bribed to find Declan guilty of theft. A rumor had spread among stable hands and farm laborers that Barrington had come into a good bit of money about the time Declan had been charged.

  Everleigh’s horse twitched his ears as if hearing a sound to his right. Everleigh focused his attention in that direction. All he heard was the plodding sound of his horse’s hooves in the dirt. When his horse turned his head, Everleigh twisted to see what he heard.

  “What is it?” He asked his horse. “A rabbit? Fox? Or is Tristan out riding?”

  Everleigh patted his horse’s flank. Maybe he was lucky and he’d find Lorna walking alone again.

  He felt the eyes of someone on him. Someone or something. Something predatory, dangerous. He shook off the idea. No one had any reason to want to harm him. Pennywise knew Everleigh and the De Wolfes were investigating the missing pig, but taking any action to stop them would carry a bigger penalty that the sentence Declan was serving.

  As he continued to ride, shots rang out from the trees to his right. Before Everleigh had time to react, his horse reared, nearly throwing him from the saddle. Then it galloped madly down the path. Everleigh tightened his thighs around his horse to stay on, but he was half out of the saddle, one stirrup dangling free.

  His horse darted off the path, weaving sharply between trees, leaping over brush. Everleigh held a fistful of the black mane but with each moment he was inching down the animal’s girth. Finally, gravity won and he fell, his head feeling shattered just before darkness swallowed him.

  Mounted on a placid mare, Lorna followed her aunt’s horse through the woods. The afternoon air was cool in the thick shade, but her woolen riding suit kept her more than warm enough.

  Shots rang out in the distance. Julia halted. “We should return home. Oscar, don’t you agree?”

  The young groom, a small-statured, dark-haired local boy of about fifteen years, glanced from one woman to the other, not speaking.

  Lorna rolled her eyes. “That hunter is far away. We’ll stay on Grandmama’s land and will be safe enough.”

  Julia peered over her shoulder at Lorna. “I imagine you’ve studied a map well enough to know where the line lies that divides Grandmama’s land from the rest of the woods.”

  Not in the mood to endure her aunt’s bossiness, Lorna said, “We’ve barely entered the woods. Those shots were far away. We aren’t in any danger.”

  “We’re wearing brown and dark green, so we blend into the trees. All a hunter would notice is our horses, and they might mistake your buckskin for a deer.” Julia’s lips thinned and her stern brow clearly expressed her feelings on the situation.

  A horse galloping their way ended all discussion. Lorna wouldn’t admit how her heart raced in fear at the sound. A hunter had no cause to ride that quickly. Who was shooting in their woods?

  She sighed in relief when she saw the horse was riderless, but then she had a different worry. What had happened to the rider? “We should find the man who rode that horse. He could be hurt.”

  “He might have been set upon by a highwayman. We mustn’t continue in that direction. We’ll send Albert and some of the hands to investigate.” Julia turned her horse toward home.

  “We might be too late to help him if we do that. I’m going ahead. You may ride for Albert if you wish.”

  “Help whom? A robber? A poacher? You have no clue what might lie ahead.” Julia huffed with all her widowhood’s superiority. “I cannot let you venture into danger alone, so you’ll be risking both of our lives.”

  Lorna refused to comment. The two of them stood no better chance against danger than one alone, and their young groom wasn’t much better. Happy to have gotten her way, she urged her mount onward.

  The woods were silent now. No more shooting, no horses running wild. Almost too quiet. An icy chill ran down her spine.

  Halting suddenly, Julia pointed ahead. “I told you we should have gone for Albert.”

  A man lay crumpled in the dirt, unmoving.

  “Oscar, see if he still lives,” Lorna ordered.

  “We must return home, Lorna,” Julia insisted. “We are in grave danger here.”

  Bending over the still figure, Oscar pushed the man onto his back. “He’s not conscious, milady. He’s got an egg on his forehead.”

  Lorna chewed her lower lip, torn by the desire to help versus the need for safety. She couldn’t allow Julia to see her waver. “But is he alive?”

  “He’s breathin’.” The poor boy’s voice didn’t sound like that was of any benefit.

  Julia’s spoke sharply. “Now will you agree we must ask Albert for help? None of us is strong enough to lift a man onto a horse.”

  Lorna urged her horse ahead to see the man more clearly but his head was turned away. Recognition struck her suddenly. “Oscar, fetch the wagon. It’s Everleigh.”

  Lorna dismounted and rushed to Everleigh’s side. Part of her expected him to suddenly grab her and kiss her but she knew that was wishful thinking. He showed no sign of awareness of their presence, though. Bending down, she spoke. “Can you hear me?”

  Julia knelt on his other side. “I imagine those shots spooked his horse.”

  Pushing a lock of hair off his forehead, Lorna brushed away some dirt on his pale skin. Even softened with lack of consciousness, his features were commanding, nearly regal. He had the look of a duke, unequivocally. She could imagine him strutting through a ballroom in a fine cutaway coat and cravat, while every woman in the room would hold her breath, hoping he’d look her way. Yet lying here, he was merely a man who’d been thrown from his horse.

  The man in question stirred, speaking just above a whisper. “Where…” He exhaled loudly.

  Lorna leaned closer. “We’ve sent for the wagon, Everleigh.”

  His eyes fluttered and he appeared to focus on her before they squeezed shut. “Lorna?”

  “Yes. Julia’s here, too. We’ll take you to the house as soon as the wagon comes. It’s not far.”

  He said nothing. His breaths were shallow, and he was so pale, Lorna said a quick prayer for his health. She caught Julia’s gaze and asked a silent question. Will he survive?

  Julia turned her gaze back on the duke and she patted his hand in hers. “Not too much longer, Your Grace. We’ll have you home and send for the doctor. You’ll have a headache, but you and my nephews will be up to hijinks in no time.”

  Lorna prayed it would be so. It had to be. Everleigh was too fine a man to be felled by a spooked horse.

  Chapter Five

  Everleigh woke to a throbbing pain engulfing his head, and his mouth was as dry as sawdust. He didn’t recognize the bedchamber he was in. A single candle brightened the gloomy space, heavy draperies drawn closed around his bed to ward off the cold.

  The bed was comfortable, and when he smelled a familiar rose scent from the sheets, he realized he
was at Tristan’s grandmother’s home.

  Memories of how he ended up there began to filter into his thoughts. Someone had come across him after he was thrown. Two young ladies. Lorna and Julia, he assumed. Then he’d been loaded into a wagon and taken on a jostling ride that caused him to lose consciousness again.

  Hunger and thirst were his main concerns now. He tried to sit up, but the movement made his head spin. A servant must be nearby. “Hello?”

  Nothing stirred.

  Grunting, he pushed himself upright, one hand pressed against his forehead. “Is anyone here?” he called a bit louder. His weakness prevented him from yelling.

  Hinges creaked and light spilled in through the doorway. “You’re awake.” The woman’s voice was sweet. In his situation, the sound was angelic. It sounded like Lorna.

  She silently drew back the curtains on the side toward the fireplace, where logs glowed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like a cravat in need of starch.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to clear his mind. “How long have I been here?”

  “Just since yesterday. Let me get you some water.” She disappeared behind the draperies and returned with a glass.

  Taking the water, he drank it all in one breath. When he handed it back, he forced himself to remain upright. “I need to see Tristan.”

  “I sent a servant for him. I’m surprised he isn’t up here already.”

  Everleigh ran his fingers over the lump on his forehead and grimaced.

  “You need ice. I’ll send for some. Rest now, and don’t let Tristan have you up and walking around too soon.”

  He said nothing as she left the room and she shivered, once again struck by the thought he might have died in the fall and she would have missed the chance to know him better.

  The next morning before the others rose, Lorna slipped out of the dining room with a plate of toast and a cup of coffee for Everleigh. She could easily have sent a servant to enquire if he felt well enough to join the family in the dining room, and to take him a tray if he preferred, but she needed to see for herself how he was feeling.