Page 70 of A Bluestocking for the Wicked Duke

Joane Hardwater was not a woman he could just leave. He wasn’t sure he could live a day without her anymore. The thought of her brought warmth to his insides and kept him alive during the day. Joane Hardwater was no more a conquest.

He placed his palm on the back of her hand and clamped down, totally covering her tiny fist in his.

She fits me perfectly. But the obstructions are myriad: her father, Miss Emma, his faux relationship with Esther, his initial revenge plan.

William thought about all these things and they left him confused. He wasn’t sure about what he was doing anymore. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was not leaving her. Until she told him to go and never come back, William was not sure he could leave Joane.

“On what do you ruminate that takes your tongue so? Share your problems with me,” Joane said.

She faced forward again but William knew she would be smiling. Her voice was hearty.

“Nothing really, when next are we going to see?” William asked her.

She removed her fist from within his to hold him at the wrist. Then she held the reins with her other hand, just in front of William’s other hand.

“Are you going to visit on the morrow?” she asked him.

William shook his head. He wasn’t sure anymore. He could decide now not to come and he would find himself riding to Buckingham the next day.

James, I’m going to see James.

“I won’t be coming tomorrow. I will be at the Bedford ball though,” he replied.

“Of course you would be at the ball, did you plan otherwise?” Joane asked, turning to look at him.

William smiled.

“No, I didn’t. I will be at the ball,” he replied.

“You better,” Joane replied.

William laughed at her statement.

“So what if I don’t show up?”

“I would tell my driver to take me to Wellington and drag you to Bedford even if you were still in your sleeping robes,” she replied.

William laughed harder, he felt the muscles of his stomach and abdomen contract as the laughter erupted out of him. His hand eased around Joane’s midriff but she pulled it back to her.

“I am serious. Do not try a woman owed a dance Mr. William Marlow. She is capable of anything,” Joane told him.

The laughter was subsiding. William put his face into her hair, blinking rapidly to keep the stubborn strands out of his eyes.

She could be funny sometimes.

They were out of the fields and in the country side. William was yet to see any person but they were getting closer to civilization. They wouldn’t have the privacy they had in a few minutes.

Then let the few minutes be put to utmost use.

William turned Joane’s neck gently to look at him.

“Face me,” he told her.

She was already turning but still asked him.

“Why?”

“I want to kiss you for the last time before our privacy is taken away from us,” he said.