Page 23 of A Sporting Chance (The Chances #8)

And oh, what ardor. There was something so warm and tingling about the way Leopold kissed her.

Eager, and hungry, as though he had been aiming for this all along.

Though he still kept one of her hands clasped to him, he had released the other so his hand could encircle her waist, pulling her closer.

Closer—Kathleen did not believe she could get close enough to this man who made fiery tendrils of bliss flicker through her body as his head tilted hers and parted her lips, demanding entrance.

The twist of his tongue as it swept her mouth, as though he knew precisely all the parts of her that needed his touch, was electric.

His desire was perhaps only just matched by her own, as Kathleen instinctively wove her free hand in his hair and tugged him forward.

He moaned at the evidence of her desire, and it thrummed through Kathleen’s whole body, vibrating her with need.

Oh, if only I could continue kissing this man for the rest of my life.

The thought was a passing one, all thinking noticeably a challenge as she clung to Leopold, who kissed her senseless, and she tried not to pay it too much heed.

She was here, with Leopold, kissing him. That had to be enough for now.

Eventually, the pair of them had to surface for air.

Leopold pressed his forehead against her forehead. It was all Kathleen could do not to tilt back his head and kiss him again, but this was clearly a moment he needed.

To catch his breath? To catch up with his thoughts?

Kathleen did not know and was certain that she could do neither herself. What they had just shared—that had been far beyond a stolen kiss that the two of them could pretend to ignore.

That had been passion. That had been a craving they had felt singularly and now found together. That had been a need within them, a need that had burned and could only be sated by a kiss.

Not that she felt particularly sated.

“Don’t…” Leopold exhaled slowly and started again. “Don’t tell me that kiss was just to distract me from our bet. Please.”

Kathleen’s pulse leapt as her stomach twisted. Why she had given that ridiculous excuse, she did not know. It had been callous, and foolish, and wrong. Now she had the opportunity to set it right.

“Nothing we have shared has been a purposeful distraction,” Kathleen whispered, relieved in a way that the closeness of their embrace meant she could say this without seeing the expression on his face. “I lied. I wanted to kiss you then, and I wanted to kiss you now.”

Their breathing had somewhat slowed at the same rate, their chests moving in rhythm, and all she wanted to do was stand here forever.

What this was, she did not know. Oh, she cared about him, that much was clear.

Kathleen had never felt theses stirrings, these longings, for another person—she had also never met a man she liked more.

She liked him: Leopold’s smile, and his laugh, and the way he looked at the world, the character that showed through whenever he had to make a decision, the way he held himself to a higher standard than the world did.

Whether or not there was more in her heart for him…

Kathleen shrank away from examining that too closely. Nothing could be gained by such a thing. He was the son of a lord, a Chance, from one of the noblest families in all of England. There was no possibility that he would—it would not even occur to him.

Besides… Angela.

The thought made Kathleen pull away. Not too far from Leopold—the intoxicating presence continued to have a heady effect on her—but enough to straighten and look at him without touching him.

The absence of him on her skin was painful.

But Angela—even if Leopold did feel any sort of affection for Kathleen, beyond the attraction they clearly shared…

she could not abandon her sister. A disgraced woman like Angela would certainly not be welcome in the Chance family, lenient about chaperones as they seemed to be or not.

She knew enough about Leopold’s father to be certain of that.

Leopold swallowed, his throat bobbing. “Kathleen—”

“Didn’t realize there were already people out here!” came a cheerful cry. “You’re up early!”

Both Kathleen and Leopold started. She took another step from him, making the distance far more socially acceptable, even as it pained her.

“Hullo there, Walden!” Leopold lifted a hand in greeting as Kathleen looked at her feet. “Yes, it is early—got to get that practice in!”

Her senses had just about settled when Leopold turned back to her. “Your sister will not be concerned as to your absence, I hope? I mean, I hope… I hope you can stay. For a moment.”

Kathleen tried to smile. It appeared his thoughts were meandering along the same lines that hers were.

He could never marry her. He would not even permit himself to consider such a thing, not with the specter of her sister’s ruined reputation hanging over them.

Yes, he could flirt with a lady almost always without a chaperone, a lady whose sister had committed an even worse sin than that. It was not his reputation that was in danger for such a faux pas. But to marry such a woman?

Angela may have ruined her prospects, but it appeared she had ruined Kathleen’s too.

Scandal by association was still scandal.

“She will be fine,” Kathleen said bracingly, her voice returning to normal, as though she had not just kissed the face off the man before her. “I frequently go for an early morning walk. It is more pleasant to be out before—before… before the heat of the day.”

Before the rest of Society. That was what she had been going to say, and Leopold knew it. She could see it in his expression.

“Good,” was all he said.

“Besides, she has an appointment with our father’s solicitor at ten o’clock. She will be far more concerned about that,” Kathleen added.

Why she had told him, a virtual stranger to Angela, she did not know. Leopold’s brow rose. “Indeed. I was not aware your sister was in any sort of legal complication.”

It was only now that he pointed that out that Kathleen realized she had absolutely no idea why her sister continued to visit the solicitor.

Was she? In any sort of legal complication, that was?

Was there something vitally important going on that she was not aware of?

Should she have asked more urgently, pressed her sister to explain?

“Well, if you wish to accompany your sister to her appointment, you may be able to,” said Leopold, glancing at his pocket watch before returning it to his waistcoat.

Kathleen had not intended her face to fall, but it was difficult for it not to. She had hoped—in fact, she had expected that they would have the whole morning together. Was that not what they had agreed?

“It is not that I do not wish to teach you all morning,” Leopold explained gently, once again demonstrating that rather disconcerting ability he had of reading her mind. “It is more… There is a competition in a few weeks and I am determined to win it this time.”

This time . Kathleen smiled. “You have not been successful in the past?”

“I have come third twice and was second last year,” he said ruefully, stepping toward the rack of bows as he shook his head. “It is galling, indeed, to be so beaten. I am determined this year I shall beat them all. I will be practicing every day until then.”

“You do not give them a very sporting chance to beat you, then,” Kathleen quipped.

The corners of Leopold’s mouth turned up, but there was a seriousness behind the smile she had never seen before. “No.”

They stood there, by the rack of bows, and Kathleen watched as he picked one up along with one arrow. Just one.

Stepping forward, he casually notched the arrow against the bowstring and drew it back.

As he had not removed his jacket, Kathleen bit her lip as his muscles bulged through the thicker material.

His concentration was absolute, his center grounded, and she tried not to even think as she watched him should that become a distraction for him.

The arrow loosed. As she had expected, it pierced the center of the target.

“I can give you half an hour,” Leopold said casually, as though he did such a thing every day—which, Kathleen reminded herself, he did. “Then I will need to practice, and I am certain you will wish to accompany your sister.”

It was not a dismissal, not exactly, but it was not far from one. Kathleen nodded brightly, however, trying to remind herself of four things.

Firstly, that she was learning archery out of curiosity and a furious end to prove herself, whereas Leopold had an actual competition he was aiming for.

Second, that he was teaching her from the goodness of his own heart and risking the censure of Society for doing so.

Thirdly, that he was a Chance. That meant responsibilities, responsibilities he would never be able to truly escape unless he was here. This time was precious to him, and she could not always demand it for herself.

And fourthly, that remaining here would only emphasize just how painfully aware she was of him, and how she felt about him—whatever that was.

“Half an hour,” she said briskly. “That is suitable.”

“Half an hour with you, the rest of the morning to practice, and then I must accompany my sister to the modiste for a fitting,” said Leopold with a groan but a wry smile.

“The Seatons’ ball is this evening, and it is most important, apparently, that Maude have something new to wear, goodness knows why. So. Take your stance.”

Kathleen immediately did so, holding up an imaginary bow. It did something to her, to feel Leopold’s eyes flickering over her, though she attempted to ignore it.

When his eyes met hers, there was a satisfaction and approval in them that did not help her concentration. “Perfect.”