Page 23 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

T hey were on the road within a quarter of an hour.

However, Louisa had never known time to pass in such a slow, daze-like pace.

She could scarcely remember how she had gotten to the carriage, her head busy replaying detail for detail the brush of Mortimer’s lips on hers, his hand clamping around her wrist, him pulling her all the way towards the stables without letting go.

A peck, he had said.

What peck?

That made it sound as if it was nothing. A small little thing of no consequence. Nothing to dwell on. But if lips brushed lips, what else could it be called but a kiss ? A. Kiss. And what’s more, that was her first kiss.

Louisa couldn’t claim she had been obsessing over her first kiss and how it would occur since she was a little girl. She hadn’t. However, she had at least known to some degree if it should happen—when it did happen—that it would be special. Meaningful. Breathless.

Very well.

It had been breathless.

But what about meaning?

Fine, if she had to nitpick, then she supposed it did have meaning, since if he hadn’t kissed her, pecked her, they might have been caught. She just didn’t care much for this meaning. And special?

She shot him a narrow look.

Well, it was a little, very tiny bit special.

Because it was him .

“You can hit me more if you like,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with something infuriating that made her heart quicken.

She scoffed. “One punch was enough.” Quite honestly, she didn’t know if she could lift her arm to punch the man again.

Both of them seemed to have gone rather numb.

She handed him the ledger instead. “Oh, I recalled that we still have copies of the betting book. I would keep the ledger if I were you.”

The eyes that met hers glinted. “I recalled the same thing earlier as well. Do you have copies of the whole book?”

Louisa turned over her answer carefully. “I believe Ophelia might, though I’m not sure how complete her copies are or if she has done away with them. However, they are also all over London.”

He fell silent, then said, “There are other betting books the club should have filed away after they were filled, but I’d rather use the most recent one. And if my suspicions are correct, they will not use the same method again.”

Louisa nodded. “That makes sense. Then shall we copy the ledger?”

He nodded. “That is not a bad idea, Lady Louisa.”

“Please, drop the lady and just call me Louisa. I feel strange every time I hear lady coming from your lips.” Moreso now that they’ve touched mine.

He inclined his head, lips quirking. “Very well. Call me Oliver, then.”

Louisa couldn’t help a chuckle from escaping.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like my name?”

“No, it’s not like that.” She pursed her lips before saying, “It just seems like such a boyish name for a man such as you.”

“And what sort of man is that, Louisa?”

She shivered at the simple, clear, deliberate use of her name. “A formidable man.”

His amber eyes probed her. “Perhaps I am not that formidable.”

“Let us agree to disagree on that score, Oliver .”

A hint of a smile formed on his lips. “Let us do that, then.”

Heh. They truly were an unlikely pair, were they not? “No one recognized you, did they?” she asked, returning to more serious matters. Safer matters. Though, in themselves, they probably couldn’t be considered much safer. Especially if he had been recognized.

He shook his head. “No, no one that I could detect.”

What a relief. “Good. Papa is going to be so angry when he discovers that I came and then vanished before he could see me. Oh, yes—what time is it?”

He pulled out a pocket watch. “A few minutes before midnight.”

“Good, good.” Her mind spun. “Perhaps I can use the excuse of my birthday.”

Surprise lit his gaze. “It’s your birthday today?”

“Yes, for the next few minutes. Though I had forgotten about it.” Her head fell back to the carriage pillow. “I didn’t even have a slice of cake. Is it not funny how the little things matter when you least expect it?” She did get a kiss, however, so she wasn’t too unhappy.

“I’m sorry I cannot retrieve a slice for you, but I do wish you a happy birthday.”

Her eyes met his. “Thank you, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t celebrate my birthday, and I usually bake my own cake just for fun.”

“You make your own birthday cake? In the kitchen?” A slight lift in his brow. “Is that not celebrating?”

“So many questions, but yes, Mr. Duke, where else would I bake a cake other than a kitchen? It’s just something I like to do for myself.

I like to spend that time alone.” Though on reflection, her arriving at the Havendish party and then leaving on her birthday might cause her father to be more suspicious than normal.

Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.

“I just never considered you would be the sort of lady who would bake cakes, but in hindsight, thinking back, I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”

Hah! “I’ll have you know I do make delicious cakes.”

“Then I shall love to have a taste of it someday—if you allow me the privilege,” he added, his voice dropping low.

Taste . . .

Her gaze slid down to his lips.

She might not have a bite of cake, but could she have a bite of something else?

What are you even saying, now, Louisa?

“We shall see,” she murmured, distracted.

“Of course,” he responded. “Since I cannot give you cake, is there something else you would like for your birthday?”

What a breathlessly dangerous question. “And if there is, you shall give it to me, no matter what?”

“If it’s within my power, yes.”

Power... mmm. She felt the slight shift of it... straight onto her lap. “Really? Since there are only a few minutes left of my birthday, what do you imagine you can give me?”

“Indeed.” A small line appeared between his brows. “I only have coins on me.”

“Coins? I have enough of those myself.”

His gaze bore into hers. “Then, if you don’t mind if it’s a day or so late, I shall give you something else.”

“Why give me anything at all?” she shot back.

He paused. “It seems like the right thing to do.”

The right thing to do... The idea startled her. Why give her anything at all and why ask for anything? But Louisa could not deny she’d become exceedingly curious about the man. What would he think she should have for her birthday?

“I wouldn’t say that we’ve been doing much of the right thing lately.” She smiled, averting her gaze. “Not in the eyes of the very society we hail from, at any rate.”

“There is more to life than where we hail from.”

She glanced back at him. “Is that why you are acting as though you’re employed by Bow Street?”

A faint smile. “Something like that.”

From all the rumors she’d heard, and from all the glimpses she’d caught of the man over time, she still couldn’t help but be captivated by even the slightest of smiles. She felt... if she could... Louisa ...just reach out to touch...

“What are you doing?” a low voice breathed.

She blinked, snatching her hand back, only then becoming aware she’d actually traced her thumb across her lower lip, where his had pressed earlier.

The tip of her thumb tingled. She rubbed it against her skirts, her gaze drawing to her dress. Black. Like night. Like sin.

No.

A bit of sin.

“There is something I want,” Louisa suddenly said, inhaling deeply. “Something within your power to give me before my birthday ends.”

A brow arched, and one crinkle appeared between the two. “What is it?”

Should she say it?

Could she say it?

It’s your birthday, Louisa.

She could enjoy it, even if just for one moment.

A hundred objections entered her mind. She’d never cared for powerful men, and then there was the family feud, though she didn’t waste much thought on that.

But for all the objections, and the fact that it may seem rather shallow, they had accomplished a mission, and she had a handsome man before her, and she was tempted. ..

She pushed back from her seat and half-rose, leaning toward him, placing her hands on each side of his face, locking him in.

“ Louisa. ”

“You saying my name like that isn’t helping. Indeed, it seems rather thrilling, even forbidden—my name on your lips.”

“What are you doing?” he asked hoarsely.

“You keep asking me that.”

His eyes burned. “You keep confusing me.”

“A confused Duke of Mortimer. That will not go well in your investigation, it seems like.”

“No, it won’t.”

Her heart pounded, louder than any time before. “And yet you are not pushing me away.”

“I do not push ladies.”

She grinned at him, his firm, dead serious answer. “That’s good, because I know what I want for my birthday.”

“I feel I shouldn’t ask anymore.”

He sounded so helpless, she laughed. “A kiss,” Louisa stated boldly. “I would very much like a kiss.”

*

A . . . kiss.

Oliver’s mind shut down. Before, she had punched him to show her shock and perhaps even ire, now she wanted him to kiss her again.

As a birthday gift ? Surely, no kiss from him could be considered a gift.

He’d only done it in the first place to block her from the sight of the passersby, as well as cutting off his name being spoken, but that didn’t mean the moment his lips landed on hers it hadn’t sent a punch of its own straight to his gut.

The impact had been breathtaking.

Startling.

Deuced discomforting.

He didn’t need to think about her request. There could be only one answer. “No.”

“ No? Why not?”

Many reasons. The mere idea of kissing her again sent a new storm tearing through him, warring with his better judgment, which should be his only judgement. The willpower it had taken back in the garden to keep his lips unmoving against hers had nearly brought him to his knees.

“Your request is not within my power.”

Her disbelieving gaze narrowed on him, accusing. “It feels like it is very much in your power.”

And yet it wasn’t because he knew the truth—his power would be lost the moment his lips touched hers again.

This angel . . .