enough about why to stop them. She was going to cry; but that would be so much worse, it was incomprehensible. She gulped the emotion back, closed her eyes, and gulped again. She was afraid he’d spot her trembling, and then he spoke, confirming that very thing.
“You can cease this. There’s nae one about to posture to that gives a damn. I certainly doona’.”
She began pulling her fingers away from each strand of that wavy, reddish hair, trying her level best to keep him from noticing it. He moved an arm from her back, cursing her with the instant chill from its absence, and placed it beneath his head, trapping her fingers exactly where they were. Then he lay back, sealing her hands in his, as if there was nothing further about it than that.
“They’ve ... gone.” She whispered it, yet still had to swallow between the words.
“True,” he answered.
“You can let me up now.” Her voice was still breathless sounding, but it was stronger.
“Is anything broken?” he asked.
My facade is. Does that count? she wondered. She shook her head.
“That’s one good thing, I suppose. You’ve ruined my hunt.”
Elise opened her eyes.
“Was that your plan?” he continued.
“I was knocked off my horse. I was nearly trampled. I couldn’t plan that.”
“Everything you do is carefully planned, woman. Everything.”
Elise’s eyes widened on the grass.
“They’ll probably send a search party for us when the race is won and I’m na’ the man winning it. Then they’ll notice you’re missing, too. This might prove difficult to explain. Of course, that Easton fellow might not care, now that he’s nipped me to the post. Oh, what am I saying? The man is dying of love for you.”
She put a carefully constructed look on her face by arching her brows and shuttering her eyes before she turned back to him. It didn’t help that he hadn’t moved, and she was close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. “You’re reading the wrong cartoons, Your Grace.”
“I heard him with my own ears, last night. I just doona’ understand why you gave me a note making certain I’d be there to hear it. I’ve been puzzling it and still can na’ figure it. Well?”
Elise took a deep breath. “I... have a secret for Your Grace.”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain you have several. I’m just cursed to be on the receiving end of this one.”
She couldn’t stop the movement as her eyes widened, pulling them from the disinterested look she’d attempted.
“Surprised? Doona’ be. You’re fairly transparent. You wanted to make Easton jealous so he’d propose. I understand this courtship game. I doona’ like playing it, as anyone in my old regiment could tell you, but I do know how. You will na’ like it if I start, either. Trust me.”
“I play no game.”
“Right.”
The one word made it sound like she never told the truth. Elise stiffened, and then she knew what was worse, as every bit of her came into contact with every bit of him. Even through her riding habit, gloves, and buttoned boots she felt him. Her heightened senses made certain of it, as hard humps of chest smashed further against her bosom, an entwined conglomeration of ropelike stomach pressed against hers, hard hips supported hers, while legs resembling iron bars were locked so effortlessly about hers it might as well have been a permanent condition.
“I suppose you’re going to say this is na’ a game, either?” he asked, his breath catching strangely midway through the words.
Elise forced herself to relax every part of her body that was touching him. “Let me up, please.”
“I’m na’ holding you.”
Beyond the thinning of her lips, she let that one pass. “Please?” She tried again.
“Explain yourself, first.”
“What?”
“The courtship game. Why are you still playing it with me?”
Elise looked heavenward before returning to his face. “Just because Sir Roald came upon me doesn’t mean I’m playing anything.”
“Then
“You can cease this. There’s nae one about to posture to that gives a damn. I certainly doona’.”
She began pulling her fingers away from each strand of that wavy, reddish hair, trying her level best to keep him from noticing it. He moved an arm from her back, cursing her with the instant chill from its absence, and placed it beneath his head, trapping her fingers exactly where they were. Then he lay back, sealing her hands in his, as if there was nothing further about it than that.
“They’ve ... gone.” She whispered it, yet still had to swallow between the words.
“True,” he answered.
“You can let me up now.” Her voice was still breathless sounding, but it was stronger.
“Is anything broken?” he asked.
My facade is. Does that count? she wondered. She shook her head.
“That’s one good thing, I suppose. You’ve ruined my hunt.”
Elise opened her eyes.
“Was that your plan?” he continued.
“I was knocked off my horse. I was nearly trampled. I couldn’t plan that.”
“Everything you do is carefully planned, woman. Everything.”
Elise’s eyes widened on the grass.
“They’ll probably send a search party for us when the race is won and I’m na’ the man winning it. Then they’ll notice you’re missing, too. This might prove difficult to explain. Of course, that Easton fellow might not care, now that he’s nipped me to the post. Oh, what am I saying? The man is dying of love for you.”
She put a carefully constructed look on her face by arching her brows and shuttering her eyes before she turned back to him. It didn’t help that he hadn’t moved, and she was close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. “You’re reading the wrong cartoons, Your Grace.”
“I heard him with my own ears, last night. I just doona’ understand why you gave me a note making certain I’d be there to hear it. I’ve been puzzling it and still can na’ figure it. Well?”
Elise took a deep breath. “I... have a secret for Your Grace.”
“Oh, I’m fairly certain you have several. I’m just cursed to be on the receiving end of this one.”
She couldn’t stop the movement as her eyes widened, pulling them from the disinterested look she’d attempted.
“Surprised? Doona’ be. You’re fairly transparent. You wanted to make Easton jealous so he’d propose. I understand this courtship game. I doona’ like playing it, as anyone in my old regiment could tell you, but I do know how. You will na’ like it if I start, either. Trust me.”
“I play no game.”
“Right.”
The one word made it sound like she never told the truth. Elise stiffened, and then she knew what was worse, as every bit of her came into contact with every bit of him. Even through her riding habit, gloves, and buttoned boots she felt him. Her heightened senses made certain of it, as hard humps of chest smashed further against her bosom, an entwined conglomeration of ropelike stomach pressed against hers, hard hips supported hers, while legs resembling iron bars were locked so effortlessly about hers it might as well have been a permanent condition.
“I suppose you’re going to say this is na’ a game, either?” he asked, his breath catching strangely midway through the words.
Elise forced herself to relax every part of her body that was touching him. “Let me up, please.”
“I’m na’ holding you.”
Beyond the thinning of her lips, she let that one pass. “Please?” She tried again.
“Explain yourself, first.”
“What?”
“The courtship game. Why are you still playing it with me?”
Elise looked heavenward before returning to his face. “Just because Sir Roald came upon me doesn’t mean I’m playing anything.”
“Then
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