Page 30 of Never Beguile a Duke

Miss Fernsby-Webb curtsied, exaggerating the movement. “You possess a title and, as a man of rank, carry yourself in a certain manner, which can be overwhelming to a child or a regular person.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Do you consider me to be intimidating?”

“Not at all, Your Grace.” She floated nearer, bringing her unique scent with her. “However, I was trapped beneath a sleigh with you for nearly a half hour. No one else has had the opportunity to witness your composed behavior during such a dangerous situation. You saved my life.”

He blushed, warmth creeping up the back of his neck and heating his face. “I did what any gentleman in my position would have done.”

She appeared as though she wished to argue; however, instead of expressing her opinion, she inclined her head and said, “Allow me to speak with your daughter. Perhaps I can learn more about Mr. Black.”

“I don’t know how to thank you for your assistance,” Silas replied, taking Miss Fernsby-Webb’s hands in his and squeezing. “I fear I am a failure at fatherhood.”

“Give Miss Juliette, and yourself, some time to build trust with each other,” Miss Fernsby-Webb said, her mouth crooking. “She’s been uprooted from everything she’s known.”

“Juliette did ask for the chamber beside mine,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Miss Fernsby-Webb’s hands, the automatic gesture oddly soothing.

“That is a good indication of her mind,” Miss Fernsby-Webb said, turning toward the kitchen.

She didn’t pull her hands from his grip.

“Before you take your leave from me, there’s an important issue we need to discuss,” he said, the words tumbling from his lips without direction.

Miss Fernsby-Webb frowned. “Is it regarding my mother?”

He shook his head. “We have unfinished business.”

“We do?” A tiny wrinkle formed between her eyes. “I apologize, Your Grace, I don’t recall any incomplete agreement between us.”

“I swore to myself that if we survived the sleigh incident unscathed, I’d...” Silas exhaled a slow breath, attempting to slow his racing heart. “I’d kiss you.”

“Oh!” Her mouth popped open, and she glanced to her left and right, then nodded.

Tugging her closer, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and pressed his mouth to her soft lips. Fire erupted between them, scorching his skin and setting his blood aflame. His arms wound around her waist, eliminating the space between them, and his tongue darted out, teasing the corner of her mouth.

She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He complied, molding her body to his and backing her against the wall.

A crash from the kitchen caused him to jump away from her, his body jerking as though doused in a bucket of cold water.

“Please accept my apologies, Miss Fernsby-Webb,” he said, adding a formal bow. “I acted out of character. Don’t allow this moment of weakness to sway any decision you may have about accepting another man’s proposal as I’m in no position to take on a wife.”

She stiffened, her eyes hardening with the realization that he’d heard her read the missive aloud. “Neither is Mr. Hollingsworth, as he is in prison for a crime he didn’t commit. But that didn’t prevent him from pursuing the future he desires.”

Without another word, she strode toward the kitchen, her back ramrod straight and her hips swaying in the most hypnotizing motion. Silas found himself wandering down the hallway after her, his gaze on her body.

Roxburghe stepped into his path, a gleeful grin splitting his face. “You look like a man suffering from an affliction.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

WINIFRED

“You’re lying!” Nora’s sharp rebuke stopped Winifred’s heart.

Yanking her skirt away from her feet, she sprinted up the servants’ staircase, ran down the corridor, and burst into her chamber. Her sudden appearance drew a scream from Miss Venning, who dropped her cards as she spun around.

“Winifred?” Nora rose from a chair near the foot of the bed, revealing Miss Juliette in a second chair beside her, and hurried across the room. “Is anything wrong? You’ve been gone nearly twenty minutes.”

“I heard you yell,” Winifred panted, leaning against the doorway and placing a hand against her chest.

She drew in a slow breath, attempting to slow her racing heart.