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P erry left the merrymaking, his heart rending in two. He hurried toward the stables in order to reclaim Zeus.

What was it about Lady Dru that spoke to his soul?

He only knew that he would be poison to her, his problems becoming hers, if they wed. She deserved far better in life than a broken-down soldier who feared the night. If Mr. Hollis did not please her, then she would certainly find another gentleman who would suit her come next Season.

Suddenly, he stumbled, taking a spill to the ground.

His knees took the brunt of the fall and stung like the dickens.

So did the palms of his hands. Thankfully, it did not seem as if he had broken anything.

That would have been disastrous, especially with more of the harvest yet to be claimed.

He swore softly under his breath, knowing the fall warned him of just how weary he was.

When he reached the stables and found no one inside them, he decided for his sake and the safety of his horse that he should lie down for a few minutes.

It would be dangerous to be out on the road and fall asleep in the saddle.

Harm might come to him and Zeus if he did so.

Thankfully, the grooms were all dancing in the moonlight so that he might nap for a short while.

Perry walked down the row, stalls on each side of him. He came to one near the end. It was empty, devoid of everything, and he continued looking, finding the next one empty but with hay scattered about the ground. This would do.

He entered, feeling something brush against his leg. Glancing down, he saw Lady Dru’s cat.

“What are you doing here, Toby?” he asked.

The cat’s loud purr sounded, so he added, “I need to rest my eyes a bit. You are more than welcome to keep me company.”

Quickly, Perry brushed the hay into a corner, making himself a bed of it. He was too tired to even slip off his coat as he curled up, Toby snuggling next to him. He closed his eyes, sinking into oblivion.

Once more, the nightmare came. The fear. The horror. The blood. Death. It was as if he knew it was a dream that he must succumb to, knowing he had no control to keep it at bay.

This time, the fierceness of the fighting seemed magnified. He fought hard, leading charge after charge, each one turning into a bloodbath. He thought it would never end as the nightmare became more vivid, the smell of death more intense.

Then the faint whiff of gardenias reached him, and he thought of Drusilla Alington. Her image gave him a courage he had never experienced before. Calling to his men, he rallied them for one more charge against the enemy.

His horse was shot out from under him, and Perry leaped from it, landing on his feet, shouting for his soldiers to follow.

His pistol in his left hand, he drew his sword with his right, swinging it, cutting a swath through the thick column of French bastards.

A bullet pierced his shoulder, and he let out a hoarse cry.

Still, he moved forward, urging his men to do the same.

Yet, one by one, they fell, their cries for mercy falling upon deaf ears.

Blood now poured from his shoulder wound, and he found himself weakening as he came face to face with a French officer.

They engaged in combat, swords arcing, profanity spewing, cuts to their torsos bringing cries of agony.

Perry fought on, the scent of gardenias encouraging him, a warmth filling him.

Then his opponent kicked him in the knee, and he went down on his back, the breath knocked from him. The officer hovered over him, a smile of pure evil on his face as he lifted his sword and jammed it into Perry’s eye.

He awoke, shrieking, pain filling him. But something—no, someone—silenced him. He grabbed, holding fast, another mouth on his, the smell of gardenias surrounding him.

Lady Dru . . .

Forcing his eyes open, he realized she held him tight, her body sprawled atop him, her mouth fixed to his. His arms went about her, and he took charge of the kiss.

And oh, what a kiss it was.

Perry drank hungrily from her, need for her filling him. The kiss went on and on, in endless bliss. There had never been a more perfect moment than now. With her. His hands roamed her back, grasping her buttocks, kneading them. He felt her breasts swell against him and knew he had to taste them.

With a bit of regret, he broke the kiss, his lips sliding downward as he rolled so they lay on their sides, facing one another.

Her gown had a low, scooped neckline, and he slipped his hand inside it, bringing one breast out and freeing it.

Immediately, his mouth went to it, and he sucked hard.

She wriggled against him, her gasp loud.

She began moaning low as he continued sucking hard, devouring it.

He lifted his head a moment, needing to see her. Her eyes were glazed, but she managed a few words.

“Do that. Again.”

He fought for control, starting more gently this time.

Licking. Blowing cool air gently. Licking again.

Grazing his teeth against her raised nipple, hearing her cry out.

He began sucking on it again, feeling it swell, even as his hand traveled up her calf.

Suddenly, the need to taste even more of her overwhelmed him.

He pushed her to her back and moved lower, finding the hem of her gown and pushing the gown to her waist.

Gripping her knees, he moved between her legs, dipping his head, licking the seam of her sex. She was already dripping wet with desire.

Hearing her gasp, he lifted his head. “I assume you want more of the same,” he said huskily.

Her eyes large, she nodded eagerly. “Yes. Oh, dear heavens, yes!”

Pinning her gaze, he told her, “I am going to satisfy you as no other man has.”

He moved between her thighs again, once more licking her seam, tasting her juices.

Then he began a game of cat and mouse, inserting his tongue, lapping at her, sucking, teasing her, removing it and beginning again.

Though he held her knees firmly, she began to quiver, and he knew she was close to orgasm.

Once again, he plunged inside her, now using teeth and tongue, teasing her pearl, feeling—and hearing—her eruption like a volcano.

“Yes!” she cried. “Oh, yes. Yes. Yes!”

She came undone, her hips pumping, her fingers thrust into his hair, tightening almost painfully. Still he kept on, and she rode wave after wave of pleasure until she stilled. He released her knees, and they fell to the hay.

Then Lady Dru lifted her head, her smile like that of a siren. “You are one very wicked man, my lord.”

“Perry,” he prompted, needing to hear her call him by name. He couldn’t recall the last time anyone had used it.

“Perry,” she said, trying it out. “For Peregrine, I assume?”

He nodded, suddenly shy around her.

For her part, she sat up, hay sticking out from her hair. “That was marvelous.” Then panic suddenly filled her eyes. “Did we make a babe?”

He smiled gently at her. “No, we did not.”

She bit her lip. “I would not have minded if we did. I think I would like your babe growing inside me.”

His ears burned, and he seized her mouth with his, kissing her long and hard and deep. His hand went between her legs again, stroking her, but she grabbed his wrist.

Breaking the kiss, she said, “No. I want to pleasure you instead.”

His cock, already full and aching, begged for her attention.

“You need to tell me what to do,” she pressed, reaching and beginning to unbutton his trousers.

“Are you... certain?” he rasped as she freed it, grasping it in her hand.

“Oh, this is large. Hard and yet smooth as silk,” she mused, her thumb rubbing its head.

“God’s teeth,” he said through clenched teeth of his own.

A wicked smile played about her lips. “You like that, don’t you, Perry?”

He liked it. He wanted it. He wanted her.

“Yes,” he managed to say.

“Lay back as I did,” she instructed, taking charge. “I will try a few things and see how you like it.”

“Oh, I will like it,” he guaranteed.

Her fingers danced up and down his shaft, sometimes holding it, stroking it, rubbing it. She instinctively seemed to know what to do, and soon he was swelling, ready to come.

Then she kissed the tip of his shaft—and licked it.

“Bloody hell, Dru,” he said as he jerked away from her, spending on the hay, groaning and moving and smelling that scent of orange blossoms. He would never inhale that scent again without thinking of her—and this moment.

For her part, she watched in fascination. She even dipped her finger against the hay and smoothed his seed between her thumb and index finger, causing him to groan.

“Did that make you feel wonderful?” she asked expectantly.

“It did,” he said, pulling her back to him so that her head rested against his chest.

He brought his arms around her, holding her tenderly, yet possessively. Closing his eyes, Perry savored this moment.

Until he heard a voice.

“Stay there, Uncle,” Mr. Hollis said. “I will fetch our horses.”

“Nonsense,” the viscount replied. “I can lead a horse from a stall, young man.”

Perry placed his finger against Dru’s lips. She nodded silently. To be caught in such a compromising position would be scandalous.

And lead to her ruin.

“Lord Huntsberry should have insisted at least one groom remain in the stables,” Mr. Hollis said.

“It would be hard to deny anyone a chance to feast and dance,” Lord Tilsbury said. “I knew there would be no servants here. That is why I suggested we bring the barouche. It is easy to attach the horses to. Ah, come, Starlight.”

He heard a stall door open and assumed the viscount led one of his horses from where it was housed.

“Did you enjoy yourself this evening?” the viscount continued.

“Very much. I kissed Lady Drusilla.”

Anger seared through him. He felt Dru stiffen against him.

“You like her.”

“I do, Uncle. She is unpretentious. Young but an old soul. She did not know how to kiss, which told me that she never had been kissed before.”

Their voices faded as the two men led their horses from the stables. Still, he waited a few minutes before speaking.

“So, your Mr. Hollis kissed you, did he?”

“He is not my Mr. Hollis.”

Curiously, he asked, “Why did he think you had never been kissed?”

“Because I did not wish to respond to his kiss,” she said saucily. “You have taught me enough about kissing, Perry. Mr. Hollis’ kiss was meaningless.”

“And mine aren’t?”

She sighed, a dreamy look coming into her eyes. “Your kisses, my lord, are heavenly.”

Her hand went to his nape, bringing his lips to hers. They kissed for a long time, lazily at first, then more heatedly.

He broke the kiss. “You should get back. You will have been missed by now.”

Perry pushed himself to his feet and then held out a hand. Dru took it, allowing him to help her stand. Quickly, they both repaired themselves, even picking hay from one another’s hair and clothes.

He started to open the stall, and she caught his wrist. “What is to happen next between us, Perry?” shea asked softly.

“Nothing,” he said sadly. “I must promise myself not to touch you again.”

“Why?” she demanded, her brows knitting together. “I know you have feelings for me, just as I have for you. Why can’t we explore them?”

He framed her face in his hands. “Because nothing can come of it, Dru.” He brushed a kiss against her brow. “You are not for me.”

Anger sparked in her eyes. “I am not good enough to be your countess?”

“That is not what I meant.” He caught himself just in time, almost calling her my love . “I am flawed. My time at war changed me in ways I still do not understand.”

He began stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “You deserve someone whole, Dru. Someone worthy of you. I can never be that man.”

His hands fell to his sides. Suddenly, the sting of a slap sounded, his cheek burning.

“You are everything I could ever wish for in a man, Perry,” she told him. “You cut me to the quick, denying what is between us. You would have us both suffer in silence—apart—rather than be together.”

Though his heart warred with his head, he knew he must do what was best for her. Because he loved her. “Yes, I think that is best.”

“And what about what I think? Oh, you are like every other man. Only what you say and feel counts. You disregard my feelings without a second thought.”

“Dru, I—”

“When you are ready to tell me that you love me as much as I love you, come to Huntsworth and say it to my face,” she declared. “Until then, I do not wish to have anything to do with you.”

She pushed him aside, sweeping up Toby, who had remained inside the stall, and stormed off. He watched her, thinking she was the most magnificent creature he had ever seen.

And she loved him.

He shook his head. He would not ruin her life by wedding her. She would eventually get over him. Either this coming Season—or one after that—she would find a man worthy of her love.

All the while, he would live on the crumbs of knowing that Drusilla Alington had once loved him.

His heart heavy, Perry saddled Zeus and rode back to Beauville, determined to avoid seeing Dru at all costs.