breathless, young, innocent sounding, and everything she’d destroyed when she married the first time. She frowned. “I mean . . . remarry.”
“Right. Why, please?”
“Why?” she repeated automatically.
“Yes, why? Women marry. Men get trapped. Good God, this is na’ a trap, is it?”
He lifted his head, instantly releasing her hands. The look of shock was back. Elise giggled, then felt him go taut beneath her, making her body rise a bit with the movement. That was interesting, she decided. Almost as much so as the flush infusing his cheeks and making the flecks in his eyes even more green-looking as he stared at her.
“I’ll never consider remarriage, Your Grace. It’s the one thing I won’t do.”
“Truly?” He relaxed, moving her body again with that motion, and then he blew the sigh over his forehead. All of which she was extremely aware of. “That does leave other options I’ll have to think over. You’d na’ think it amiss if I escort you to dinner again?”
“I’m not in need of an escort. I believe I already have one.”
He snorted. “Let’s run along and see if Sir Roald will mind, then.”
Elise frowned. “In that event, I think I’ve quite lost all appetite, Your Grace. I believe I’ll dine in my rooms tonight.”
“Alone?”
“Hardly. I have my maid with me.”
“No one will think it amiss if I attend you, instead. Order it.”
“In my rooms?” Elise asked, showing every bit of her own shock. “I’m certain my maid will,” she answered finally, with a choking voice.
“We’re about to be discovered.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should try to look a bit disheveled from your fall and na’ my lovemaking.”
Elise had to look away. She was afraid he’d spot the sudden moisture in her eyes that she couldn’t staunch quickly enough. “I’ll do my best, if you’ll let me up.”
“There’s naught holding you,” he answered.
“Your arm?” she asked. “Your legs?”
“How the devil did that happen?” His voice was quite merry as he lifted his arm from her and opened his legs.
Elise pulled away from warmth and didn’t enjoy the tremors being away from it caused. She went onto her heels to look down at herself. Strands of ash-blond hair were trailing about her face, showing the condition of her coiffure; there were more rips in her habit than could be repaired, mud about her elbows, and lip rouge on Colin’s lips. Elise found her handkerchief and handed it to him.
“I need this?” he asked.
“Not unless your lips are always that red.”
“You use that kind of artifice? Too?”
“Of course. Doesn’t every woman?”
“Na’ the ones I grew up with. Is it gone?”
Elise couldn’t prevent the snort. He’d smeared it worse than before. She held her hand out for the cloth. Colin gave it to her. “Hold out your tongue,” she commanded.
“Why?”
“Must everything be explained to you first? I can’t get the rouge off without moisture.”
“You lick it off, then.”
Elise pulled back as though stung. “I... can’t,” she whispered, finally.
“Why na’? You put it there.”
Elise set her jaw, wrapped the handkerchief about her finger, and put it to her mouth. He stopped her with a quick hand and pulled the handkerchief away from her lips.
“Against the rules, Elise,” he said, clicking his tongue, and his eyes were as cold brown as they’d been the first time she’d seen him. “I said lick it off.”
“What rules?”
“The courtship game. I told you I knew how to play it.”
“You can’t possibly mean ...” Her voice stopped exactly when her thoughts did.
“Oh ...and can na’ I?”
Shouts and calls carried to her, and they both heard them. They were closer. Colin hadn’t changed position, but she could swear he’d gotten larger. Elise shut her eyes, but when she opened them he still hadn’t moved. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I thought... you didn’t like me,”
“Right. Why, please?”
“Why?” she repeated automatically.
“Yes, why? Women marry. Men get trapped. Good God, this is na’ a trap, is it?”
He lifted his head, instantly releasing her hands. The look of shock was back. Elise giggled, then felt him go taut beneath her, making her body rise a bit with the movement. That was interesting, she decided. Almost as much so as the flush infusing his cheeks and making the flecks in his eyes even more green-looking as he stared at her.
“I’ll never consider remarriage, Your Grace. It’s the one thing I won’t do.”
“Truly?” He relaxed, moving her body again with that motion, and then he blew the sigh over his forehead. All of which she was extremely aware of. “That does leave other options I’ll have to think over. You’d na’ think it amiss if I escort you to dinner again?”
“I’m not in need of an escort. I believe I already have one.”
He snorted. “Let’s run along and see if Sir Roald will mind, then.”
Elise frowned. “In that event, I think I’ve quite lost all appetite, Your Grace. I believe I’ll dine in my rooms tonight.”
“Alone?”
“Hardly. I have my maid with me.”
“No one will think it amiss if I attend you, instead. Order it.”
“In my rooms?” Elise asked, showing every bit of her own shock. “I’m certain my maid will,” she answered finally, with a choking voice.
“We’re about to be discovered.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You should try to look a bit disheveled from your fall and na’ my lovemaking.”
Elise had to look away. She was afraid he’d spot the sudden moisture in her eyes that she couldn’t staunch quickly enough. “I’ll do my best, if you’ll let me up.”
“There’s naught holding you,” he answered.
“Your arm?” she asked. “Your legs?”
“How the devil did that happen?” His voice was quite merry as he lifted his arm from her and opened his legs.
Elise pulled away from warmth and didn’t enjoy the tremors being away from it caused. She went onto her heels to look down at herself. Strands of ash-blond hair were trailing about her face, showing the condition of her coiffure; there were more rips in her habit than could be repaired, mud about her elbows, and lip rouge on Colin’s lips. Elise found her handkerchief and handed it to him.
“I need this?” he asked.
“Not unless your lips are always that red.”
“You use that kind of artifice? Too?”
“Of course. Doesn’t every woman?”
“Na’ the ones I grew up with. Is it gone?”
Elise couldn’t prevent the snort. He’d smeared it worse than before. She held her hand out for the cloth. Colin gave it to her. “Hold out your tongue,” she commanded.
“Why?”
“Must everything be explained to you first? I can’t get the rouge off without moisture.”
“You lick it off, then.”
Elise pulled back as though stung. “I... can’t,” she whispered, finally.
“Why na’? You put it there.”
Elise set her jaw, wrapped the handkerchief about her finger, and put it to her mouth. He stopped her with a quick hand and pulled the handkerchief away from her lips.
“Against the rules, Elise,” he said, clicking his tongue, and his eyes were as cold brown as they’d been the first time she’d seen him. “I said lick it off.”
“What rules?”
“The courtship game. I told you I knew how to play it.”
“You can’t possibly mean ...” Her voice stopped exactly when her thoughts did.
“Oh ...and can na’ I?”
Shouts and calls carried to her, and they both heard them. They were closer. Colin hadn’t changed position, but she could swear he’d gotten larger. Elise shut her eyes, but when she opened them he still hadn’t moved. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“I thought... you didn’t like me,”
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