Page 15 of The Lady Was Lying (Greydon #3)

Chapter Six

A ccompanying Emmeline to visit Danford, his wife Clarissa, and their children was not typical behavior for Belinda. Over the years, she’d interacted with them many times, but she’d never visited them at their home.

If she hadn’t been worried she’d do something foolish—like sneak into James’s townhouse and kiss him without his permission—she wouldn’t have even considered inviting herself along.

As it was, she couldn’t trust herself to stay away from the duke, so she found herself seated across from Clarissa and Emmeline as they chatted and watched their children frolic in the nursery.

Her mind drifted as they discussed how exceptional their children were. While proficiency in Latin was probably impressive due to their ages, it didn’t much matter to Belinda. When the conversation shifted to household matters, she rose to her feet. “I’m going to take a turn about the garden.”

“The garden here is rather small,” Clarissa said. “Not much to see.”

“Does it have roses?”

“A few.”

“I’ll see whether they are blooming.” It was still far too cold, but neither Emmeline nor Clarissa stopped her as she walked out of the nursery. She descended the stairs and turned the corner to find James striding towards her.

The very man she’d been trying to avoid was directly in her path. Had he been sent to tempt her? To test her resolve? It was impossible to determine whether fate was conspiring with her or against her, but maybe encountering him again so soon was a sign.

All the advice her mother had whispered in her ear over the years had prepared her for a moment exactly like this one. Steeling herself, she halted and curtsied, dropping far lower than was necessary and then rising languidly.

“Your Grace,” tripped off her tongue.

“Lady Belinda.” His voice was clipped, and instead of bowing politely, he stepped backward.

“Three encounters.” She closed the distance between them. “All chance.” She trailed her finger up his chest. “Perhaps fate is on my side.”

He swallowed, his throat rippling with the force of it. “You followed me?”

“Absolutely not.” How dare he suggest she was chasing after him. “I came with Emmeline and Arianna over an hour ago.”

“I was not aware they were here.”

She poked him in the center of his chest. “I was not aware you were here.”

“I wasn’t,” he responded, far more breathless than he’d been. “Danford and I took a ride. Stopped at his club. A drunken fool spilled the contents of his drink on his waistcoat so he’s changing, and then he’s going to introduce me to his wife and children.”

“Emmeline and Arianna are with them now.” Her finger trailed upward. “You can enjoy their company too.”

He didn’t move. “How fortuitous.”

Her finger stopped at the top of his elegantly tied cravat.

She lifted it and placed it on the center of his lower lip.

He exhaled, and she felt a slight thrill as his warm breath raced over the tip.

With careful precision, she traced his lip, enjoying the way the slightly chapped skin felt against her delicate finger.

The short hairs of his beard brushed against her palm, softer than she’d expected. How would they feel against her mouth?

“Emmeline and Clarissa socialize weekly when they are both in London. They are close friends,” she murmured, trying to keep her wits about her. “I don’t usually join them.”

He didn’t respond. Maybe he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t take much effort to exchange her finger with her mouth.

She was nearly sure he would allow it. Victory would be sweet, even though the triumph would probably fade quicker than she’d like.

Before she could make another move, his tongue contacted her finger.

She sucked in a breath and retracted her hand on instinct.

* * *

James was going to kiss her.

Right now.

In his half-brother’s home.

How could he resist when she touched him so gently? And stared at him so intently?

In a high-necked, long-sleeved gown, she looked different than she looked at night. Still beautiful, and still remarkably potent, but more approachable somehow.

Slowly, so as not to startle her, he leaned forward, tipping his head slightly as he entered her personal space.

Her eyes, which had slipped shut the first time they’d been this close, were fixed on his, creating a deeper connection than he’d thought possible.

Her breath smelled faintly of tea. As he inhaled, his right hand found her hip, not tugging her closer, just holding her steady.

He licked his lips and started to close the distance, when suddenly voices sounded from the upstairs hallway. Her eyes widened a fraction, and something he’d never seen before flitted through them.

Was it panic?

She pulled away, and he had no choice but to release her.

Her hand rose to her mouth, pressing on her bottom lip. “I have to go,” she whispered before turning and dashing down the hall.

He took a step to follow and then hesitated.

Why had she fled when he’d been so close to kissing her?

He was confused.

Both by himself and by her. Whatever was happening between them didn’t seem like courtship, but what else could it be?

* * *

“Wake up,” a cheery voice boomed, invading Belinda’s sleep.

When she’d returned home the previous afternoon, she’d retreated to her room and taken to her bed early. Sleeping surprisingly well didn’t mean she wanted to be woken up, and even though she didn’t think it would deter her sister, she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

“Wake up,” was repeated loudly with the same annoying level of joyfulness.

Belinda groaned. When she didn’t move, she felt her sister’s weight against her back, and then, a moment later, hot breath tickled her neck.

“I know you’re awake,” Jane whispered in her ear.

“Ugh.” Belinda rolled over and flung her arm over her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough to wake up.”

“Why are you here?”

“To gossip, of course.”

“I don’t want to gossip.”

“Yes, you do,” Jane practically sang.

“I really don’t,” Belinda grumbled.

“Your words say one thing, but your actions say another.”

Belinda pulled her arm off her face and narrowed her eyes at her sister. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar.” Jane grinned. “The duke. You were too curious to stay away when he came for dinner. And then you conversed with him yesterday. Alone .”

Belinda’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

“Emmeline mentioned it.”

How did Emmeline even know? She hadn’t been in the hallway with them. “We barely spoke,” she defended.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw him?” Jane poked her finger into Belinda’s side. “Admit that the duke interests you.”

Belinda groaned again. She did not want to discuss the duke.

Nor did she want to spend another second thinking about the way he’d dared her to seduce him.

Or the way that she had nearly succeeded.

Why had she allowed herself to try to provoke him into kissing her where anyone could see?

And why had she run away before she’d succeeded?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she repeated.

“If you say so.” Jane rose to her feet. “He’s rather nice, isn’t he? Polite and well-mannered. He’ll make an excellent husband.”

Belinda jolted upright. “You cannot marry him,” she said, with far more force than necessary.

Jane smiled, completely ignoring Belinda’s tone.

“It’s too soon to say whether he’ll be my husband or someone else’s.

Just because I could see myself married to him doesn’t mean that I will be.

Although, I have to say, after dinner the other night, it seems as if he might be interested in furthering our acquaintance.

He made a concerted effort to converse with me once you left.

” Jane’s grin stretched a bit wider. “We discussed the theatre at length. Would you believe he’s never been? ”

“He’s new to London,” Belinda responded far more calmly than she had before. Not that she was calmer, just that she had regained a modicum of control and was able to affect a composed demeanor.

“Hmm. I suppose his recent arrival does make his lack of theatre attendance rather believable.” She shrugged. “Emmeline invited him to join us in our box tonight. Did she tell you?”

“Not us,” Belinda said. “I’m not going to the theatre.”

“You weren’t going to dinner either. Methinks you won’t be able to resist joining us.”

“I am not attending the theatre tonight.” She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Especially not after proclaiming it so vehemently to Jane.

Jane giggled. “As you say.”

“I won’t,” Belinda vowed, more than a little annoyed. Why did everyone suddenly feel the need to speculate about her intentions? “Are you trying to vex me?”

“Absolutely,” Jane replied. “How did you know?”

Growing up, Jane had been the kindest of her siblings. Admitting that she was intentionally irritating Belinda seemed entirely out of character, and Belinda could not fathom her motivation. “Why are you trying to vex me?”

“Someone has to.”

“Why?” Belinda asked, her frown deepening.

“Because of that. Right there.” She pointed at Belinda’s mouth.

“Something is wrong with you. At first glance, your surliness is nothing out of the ordinary. Snippy and easily annoyed is normal behavior for you.” Belinda’s eyes narrowed, and Jane shook her head, laughing softly.

“But lately you’ve been upset. Like you’re truly unhappy about something. ”

“I do not like London.”

“You liked it fine last year,” Jane countered. “And you could have stayed at Greydon Hall if you didn’t want to come with us.”

“I—” She snapped her mouth shut.

“What? Stop pretending you’re fine. Say whatever you were thinking.”

“I have nothing to say.” Belinda fell backward onto her bed. “However, I suppose you’re right. I ought to return to Greydon Hall forthwith.”

Maybe leaving was the solution.

“What?” Jane gasped. “No. That is not what I meant. I want you to talk to me, not leave.”