The Regency Season: Decadent Dukes. Кэрол Мортимер
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if he were to have practised all of his considerable sexual inventiveness, that the two of them would have been able to deepen the intimacy whilst still up in the branches of a tree.
Of course, he still had to resist kissing her again once they were both down on the ground, but good sense told him he had best do exactly that if he did not wish to make this situation even worse than it already was.
How the two of them behaved towards each other when they met again, probably in the presence of Anna’s father, was a subject for conjecture, but Rufus did not imagine that Anna would any more welcome her father knowing of her scandalous behaviour today than Rufus would.
No, it had been a pleasant interlude but it was not one Rufus believed it wise to repeat. His responses to her warned him that he should not demand that second kiss.
Rufus kept his movements brisk and impersonal, his gaze averted from that sensuous mouth and those creamy breasts, as he helped Anna to descend the tree. “Turn around,” he instructed briskly once she stood in front of him, intending to refasten the buttons at the back of her still-gaping gown.
Anna felt slightly befuddled as she obediently turned her back towards Rufus, disturbed by her reaction to being so thoroughly kissed, and by a man she had only just met.
His responses to her, the low groans in his throat, and the way his hands had roamed restlessly over her back before cupping her breast, had proved that he truly was not a gentleman.
Her confusion increased as she saw his expression was one of haughty remoteness as he turned away to pull on his own clothes. She sat down on the grass to put on her stockings and boots. It was almost as if he had not just kissed her so passionately, touched her more intimately than any other man ever had.
Nor had he made any demand for a second kiss in return for helping her down from the tree.
She eyed him uncertainly as she stood up slowly. “I…thank you for your help,” she murmured hoarsely.
He was now fully dressed, his glance impersonal, as he swung easily up into the saddle of his restlessly prancing stallion. “I advise that you do not make a habit of venturing out in these woods alone.” His mouth twisted into the semblance of a mocking smile. “Another man might not be so reluctant to take what you offer!”
Anna gasped at the deliberate insult. “I did not offer, you took!”
He looked down the length of his aristocratic nose at her. “You may tell yourself that if you wish.”
Anna felt the guilty colour heat her cheeks as she knew she had been a more than willing participant to their lovemaking.
Something a gentleman would most certainly not have brought to her attention.
She glared up at him. “I do believe I dislike you intensely.”
“Keep telling yourself that, my love, if it pleases you.” Rufus gave a mocking laugh as he doffed his hat and bowed in a caricature of politeness. “I will wish you a good day, Anna Juliet.” He placed his hat firmly back on his head before turning Caesar, not giving so much as a glance back as he urged the stallion through the canopy of trees and out onto the fields leading up to the majestic red-stoned residence that was the seat of the Duke of Northamptonshire.
Rufus continued to rebuke himself for his actions as he allowed Caesar his head. For allowing an innocent such as Anna to arouse him so completely he had forgotten who he was. Who she was.
A rebuke that became even more immediate when the first person he saw, as he rode into the cobbled stable yard of Banbury Hall, was Matthew Turner.
The older man was in conversation with one of the maids, but he excused himself immediately to hurry across the yard as he recognised Rufus. “It is very good to see you here, Your Grace,” he greeted as he took Caesar’s reins, a pleased smile lighting up his weathered face.
“I believe you wrote requesting my presence,” Rufus reminded abruptly as he dismounted, not at all sure how he should deal with this man after the earlier liberties he had taken with Turner’s daughter.
The older man immediately sobered. “Of course.” He nodded. “But first let me introduce you to my daughter.” He smiled proudly as he turned and beckoned for the maid to join them.
Well, this woman was clearly not the one he’d kissed so passionately in the woods just now.
And if Anna was not Matthew Turner’s daughter, then who the hell was she?
Where was she?
“I must say, I was very surprised to learn that it was the parson’s sister who lied to me so brazenly on the last occasion we met.”
Anna stiffened, her back turned towards the owner of the voice as she knelt in the parsonage garden weeding the bed of herbs.
It would be an understatement for her to claim she had been dreading this meeting after the village became abuzz with the news that the new Duke of Northamptonshire had arrived unexpectedly three days ago and was now in residence at Banbury Hall.
Anna had not believed the duke’s unexpected arrival and her own meeting that same day with the stranger in the woods could possibly have been a coincidence; they simply did not have that many visitors riding through the parish in one day. Consequently, she had reluctantly been forced to accept that it was more than a possibility that the Duke of Northamptonshire was the same handsome gentleman who had stripped down to his drawers in front of her startled—and avid—gaze.
The same outrageous gentleman who had then teased and flirted with her.
The very same wicked man who had climbed a tree in order to assist her only so that he might claim a kiss as his reward! A kiss that had caused Anna to blush, warm and tremble with pleasure every time she had thought of it since.
She forced down those feelings as she rose slowly to her feet before turning to face the man who had surely come here to taunt and torment her for her past behaviour.
Anna was very much aware that he had once again found her in disarray; she always wore one of her oldest gowns for gardening, and her hair was slightly dishevelled from her exertions in the herb bed.
In comparison, the duke looked a picture of sartorial elegance, in a deep blue superfine with a silver paisley waistcoat over his snowy white linen.
He leaned confidently on the top of low wall surrounding the garden at the back of the parsonage as he nodded to her in mocking salute.
“I have asked forgiveness for the lie.” Anna’s gaze dropped from his. “Can you claim to have done the same, as you also lied to me when you said you were not visiting people in the area?” she reminded huskily.
“I did not lie, Anna,” Rufus denied smoothly. “I admitted only to travelling through the woods. And I could hardly claim to be visiting myself,” he reasoned.
Her eyes flashed deeply blue as she looked up at him. “A simple acknowledgement of being the Duke of Northamptonshire would have sufficed, as I am sure you are well aware.”
Rufus could not help but smile at this show of her previous sharpness with him, laying his hat on top of the wall and placing a hand beside it before jumping nimbly over into the garden.
“What are you doing?” Anna took a step back, having raised her hands to her breasts in alarm.
He strolled unconcernedly down the pathway to join her. “I have no intention of conversing with a wall between us when anyone might walk past and overhear us talking.”
That sentiment was all well and good, as Anna had no wish for anyone else to learn of the circumstance of their previous acquaintance either, but Rufus was now standing far too close to her.
So close,