Page 8 of Starlight and the Duke (Cherish and the Duke #5)

The gown she’d worn yesterday was neatly folded and placed atop the back of a chair. It was as though all traces of him had been removed from her room.

Except she still felt him on her skin, his warm lips and that devil of a tongue having branded her as his.

She also caught the musky scent of him on her sheets.

It was only the slightest trace, but this was still dangerous.

A servant with a sensitive nose would smell it and know.

Since she did not want any gossip going around, she scampered out of bed and grabbed a bottle of her favorite perfume.

Desire was what they called the fragrance, and she now sprinkled several droplets onto his side of the bed. “There, good as new.”

She tossed on a robe and went to her balcony to peer out.

The sun was rising above the horizon and shedding its light all around, but a morning mist still lingered at the edges of the trees. Because of the mist, Fiona knew it was still early. Probably not quite seven o’clock in the morning, by her guess.

To her surprise, Rob was not only awake, but he appeared to have taken a morning ride. He was dressed casually, just a plain work shirt and buff riding breeches as he strode back toward the house.

He looked up, saw her, and smiled.

She waved. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Have you had your breakfast yet?”

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.” She rang for her maid to assist with her gown, but did not wait for her to appear before tossing water into her basin to wash herself. She then grabbed her hairbrush.

She had just finished brushing her hair when there came a soft knock at her door that she recognized as that of her lady’s maid, Molly.

“Come in,” she called out, bustling to her armoire to decide what to wear this morning.

Her swim with Rob would not take place until this afternoon because the seawater did not properly heat up until the sun had beaten down on it for hours.

“Oh, Molly. I need your help. What shall I wear?”

Her maid smiled. “The duke is quite the handsome devil, isn’t he? Here, you ought to wear this pale blue with the flowers embroidered on it. You will steal his breath away.”

“All right. But I am not interested in the Duke of Durham in that way.”

Molly arched an eyebrow. “Sure, I believe that. Then why are you fluttering like a crazed butterfly this morning?”

“Nonsense.” Fiona blushed. “I am too old to be fluttering, and I am certainly not crazed.”

“Then what is it that has you in a dither? Flux? Loose bowels? Indigestion?”

“Molly!” She shook her head and laughed softly.

“Every woman alive is going to swoon whenever that man is around. And you are not too old to count yourself out, m’lady.

He certainly does not think so. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you.

I’m surprised this house has not burned to ashes with those fiery glances he casts your way whenever he thinks no one is looking.

But I won’t say another word because I know what you are thinking and feeling. ”

She gave Fiona a hug, knowing she could do this because Molly had been a savior to her after Shoreham had died. “Grab your moment of happiness, m’lady. Do not care what anyone else may think. You are a lady through and through. Nothing you do will change this.”

Fiona had Molly next help her fashion her hair in a simple bun at the nape of her neck. Her hair was softly pulled back except for a few curls that fell over her brow and framed her face. “All done, m’lady.”

“Thank you, Molly.” She cast her a warm smile before hurrying downstairs.

Rob was standing in the parlor, staring out one of the large windows, when she walked into the room. He turned, smiled, and gave a low whistle. “You’re looking lovely this morning.”

She laughed. “So are you.”

He did look magnificently handsome.

She could not suppress the blush that now stained her cheeks at the recollection of his big, muscled body atop hers last night, and the things he did to her with his magical touch.

The man understood a woman’s body, this was for certain.

He especially understood hers, but this was because of the deep connection of their hearts.

Perhaps this was the reason he had made her feel cherished. The entire night was an expression of his abiding love.

“It looks nice outside,” she said. “Shall we have our breakfast on the terrace?”

“Sure.”

Since the salvers were already set out atop the dining room buffet, they served themselves there and then carried the food out to one of the outdoor tea tables.

Fiona did not know whether it was his company that made her eggs and sausages taste better than ever, or whether she was just famished after last night’s exertions. She had soared amid starlight twice last night.

By the way he looked at her this morning, she knew he meant to make that a dozen times more before the week was through.

Perhaps she ought to stop thinking of him as a Silver Duke—he was too young to be admitted into their ranks, even though the ton had now dubbed him as one because of the dash of silver threaded through his dark-gold hair.

He could be her Starlight Duke.

Yes, that was better.

“What’s our plan today, Fiona?” he asked before taking a sip of his coffee. “Other than swimming later.”

“Well, we could play lawn games. Take a long walk in the countryside. Take horses and ride.”

He shook his head to dismiss all the suggestions, which surprised her, because he rarely voiced a preference when it came to house party activities, and usually just went along. Well, this was no true house party, not with him as her only guest.

Still, was it not the same sort of thing?

“Then what do you want to do, Rob? Any better ideas?”

“Let me take you to Brighton. We can walk around and do a little shopping. Perhaps find a pretty spot overlooking the water and grab a bite to eat. Then return here for a late afternoon swim.”

She smiled at him. “Actually, that sounds wonderful.”

“Good. Grab your things and let’s go.”

She polished off the last of her breakfast and ran upstairs to collect her gloves, stylish hat, and reticule, as well as a light wrap on the chance the weather turned cooler. But the mist off the water had already melted away, a sign this was to be another hot, dry summer day.

Once ready, Molly accompanied her downstairs.

They both had the same heart-stopping reaction to the sight of Rob leaning against the open doorway, his arms folded across his chest and the sun shining its golden aura upon his hair while he conversed with Simmons.

The summer sun had lightened his hair in perfect shadings of wheat amid the dark gold.

As a little boy, his hair had been that lighter hue but was now naturally darkened with maturity. He still looked glorious, especially with that added trace of silver at his temples.

Just a dash.

Hardly noticeable.

But devastating in effect.

“Oh, Molly. It isn’t fair, is it?”

“No, m’lady,” the maid said with a whispered chuckle. “I’m happily married and still would leap into bed with that man if he crooked his finger and bade me forward. But it isn’t me or any other woman he wants. His eyes always devour you.”

Because he had panther eyes.

He turned for the briefest moment and cast Fiona that devouring look.

“We’ll be back in the afternoon,” she said, placing a hand over her stomach as her butterflies began to flutter. “Oh, I should take a moment to ask Mrs. Harris if we need anything from Brighton.”

Her housekeeper insisted that they needed nothing and shooed her off. “Do not think of anything but that impossibly handsome man.”

Even staid, proper Mrs. Harris?

Fiona sighed and joined Rob as he stood beside the carriage. “Did your housekeeper assign us any chores?”

“No, not a one,” she said as he helped her into his impressive ducal conveyance with its embossed lions on the crest.

He settled in the seat across from hers. “Good. Then all we have to think about is us.”

She felt a twinge in her heart and then a rougher twist. However, she forced a smile to hide her ache.

There would never be an us .

But there could be the pretense of it, just for today.

They made idle conversation on the ride to Brighton, their manner casual and friendly, Fiona pretending not to feel the heat and raw craving that thickened the air between them. And what of last night? Could she overlook the ravenous passion between them as they clawed each other in desperation?

She regretted not bringing a fan, for the memory of her wanton behavior was hard to ignore, and she needed cooling off.

Had he noticed her embarrassment? What did he think of last night? Rob was very good at masking his feelings.

She was not.

He sighed. “Fiona, do you want to talk about it? Us. What we did.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No.”

His grin was affectionate as he said, “All right.”

There was an extended silence between them before she groaned and asked, “How was it for you? I mean…how was I? I’m sure you’ve done this with other ladies. But…”

“I was with you , Fiona.” He leaned forward to place his hand gently over hers. “How else would it be but the best experience of my life?”

She cast him a wry smile. “Good answer.”

He chuckled.

She wanted to ask more questions, but held back. Rob was always going to give her polite answers. Even if she had not been all that good last night, he would never say so. He would never even think so because he loved her.

Loving her first as childhood friends. Then as mature, adult friends.

And now…this.

Apparently, he adored the full package of who she was. Outspoken. Brash. Definitely stubborn. But also willing to give her full heart to him if ever he needed it or needed her.

Yes, she would give him everything she had to give…except for her hand in marriage.

The sun was blazing down on them by the time they reached the Brighton shore. Rob hopped down from the carriage and took her by the waist to help her out. “Hot as blazes already,” he muttered, shading his eyes as he looked skyward.

“It was quite warm in the carriage, too,” Fiona remarked. “Why don’t we stop and have ices first? Then we won’t feel so wilted as we walk around.”

He cast her a wicked smile. “Ices?”

“Yes, aren’t you in need of cooling down?”

He nodded. “Yes, every time I look at you.”

“Oh, good grief. Behave yourself.”

“Not a chance.” He led her toward one of the confectionery shops, the grin still on his lips.

She paused to stare up at him. “All right, I give up. What is so wickedly funny about our having ices?”

“Must I spell it out for you?”

“Yes.” She cast him an impatient glance. This was another one of her failings—impatience.

But he seemed to take it all in stride. “It isn’t about the ices, it is that we must lick them to eat them. Get it? Lick. L-I-C-K.”

“Ugh! Rob!”

“Do not berate me because I like your flavor, Fiona.”

She covered her eyes, although this would do nothing to keep her from hearing what else he had to say.

He laughed softly and drew her hands off her face. “What remains to be answered is…”

“What? Stop grinning and just tell me.”

“Whether you are going to like the flavor of me .”

“What?” Her eyes widened and her mouth gaped open. “I don’t know how to respond to that. Do ladies do this to…”

“Men? And their private parts?”

She nodded. “People do that? Is this what I…?”

He tucked a finger under her chin, nudging it upward to close her mouth.

He studied her for a long moment and frowned. “Here’s the deal. We do nothing unless you are willing. Your answer will not change my feelings toward you. This is completely up to you.”

“Should I not consider what you might like?”

A smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “It would be appreciated. But again, not necessary.”

She contemplated the matter as they sat overlooking the water, a salty breeze swirling around them as they ate their ices.

She tried not to watch him as he put his mouth to the shavings, swirled his tongue over them, and licked the drippings with his tongue.

How would he taste? The notion was appalling.

Did she dare?