Or that insanely delicious kiss.
He shrugged. “I thought it was a brilliant idea at the time. And I am still liking it. Need I remind you, the kiss and our betrothal served their purpose in keeping you alive. You thought so, too. A scorching kiss and the benefit of my protection, all in one. No one is going to touch you now that you are my soon-to-be duchess. They will have to face my wrath if they dare try. I am a bloody duke, and a powerful one at that.”
“Do you think this will stop Frampton?”
“Yes, assuming you behave. He knows one word from me would crush his ambitious rise to the top.”
Florence waited until Timmons had brought out cakes to go along with the lemonade, set them on the table, and then retreated into the house before she responded. “Oh, so you think he is afraid of you? Do not get too caught up in the power afforded to a duke. If he were to shoot you, you would still bleed like the rest of us.”
“How sweet of you to worry about me. If you really care, then juststop whatever it is that you are doing. Frampton will leave you alone so long as you leave him alone.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then he is a fool and I will see him destroyed.”
Florence wished the matter were that simple. “Do not mistake him for a fool. Will you promise me that you will always keep your guard up around him?”
“Me? I am not the one who fell out of a tree while spying on him,” he said, reaching over to give her hand a light squeeze. “But I plan to exercise extreme care around him. So must you.”
She nodded. “I will. You mustn’t worry about me. I am experienced when it comes to these delicate investigations and can take care of myself.”
“That is utter rot.” He drank the last of his lemonade, finishing it in two easy gulps, and then set the glass down on the table with athunk. “Had I not come upon you first, he would have found you and strangled you with the cord of your own binoculars, then left you for dead inmywoodlands for one ofmyworkers to find. And that’s another thing.”
“What other thing?”
He leaned forward again, close enough so that their lips almost touched.
He really had to stop doing that, because his mouth was incredibly tempting and she would never stop tingling if he insisted on ravaging her senses like this.
“You are a friend and former schoolmate of Jocelyn, Duchess of Camborne, which means you come from a family of means. That finishing school for young ladies was an elite institution whose curriculum was designed to teach sweet young things like you to become wives to England’s aristocratic hierarchy. Yet here you are takingworkfrom your friends and acquaintances.”
“And your point?”
“Why are you doing this? And what do your parents have to say about it?”
“Assuming they knew, they would disapprove…just as they have disapproved of everything I have ever done in my life.”
The remark obviously surprised him.
Did he think her family adored her?
Florence managed to shift the conversation, avoiding his questions for now. But she knew by his daunting stare as they rode to Weymouth together in his magnificent ducal carriage a short while later that he had no intention of letting the matter drop.
She cleared her throat. “Lovely view.”
He arched an eyebrow, refusing to engage her in idle chatter. Instead, he studied her as a predator might study his prey, all the while seated on the nicely cushioned leather bench opposite hers. It was slightly disconcerting the way his gaze raked over her, so she stared out the window and pretended to take in the passing countryside.
It would take them an hour or more to reach the seaport town and its namesake Weymouth Inn, where she had taken rooms with her aunt. She estimated it would take another hour to get her and her aunt packed and checked out of the inn. They had each brought one trunk and several smaller bags, not needing dozens and dozens of gowns as one might for a house party or other social occasion.
She had brought along eight gowns for the various occasions, and her aunt had brought along an equal number for herself. But Hermia was one to move slowly and could not be rushed.
It would take another hour or more to ride back to Gull Hall, and hopefully they would reach Trajan’s residence well before nightfall, a task easily accomplished if they kept to a moderately efficient schedule.
She turned from viewing the scenery to glance at him. He was no longer staring at her in predatory fashion but regarding her oddly.
“What’s wrong?”
“How stupid of me,” he muttered as though struck by a sudden thought. “Gad, how could I have overlooked this? Florence, how did you get here? You could not have walked the entire distance from your inn lodgings to my home.”
