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Chapter Seventeen

The Forresters’ barouche rolled through Richmond under a canopy of trees as a soft breeze blew. The coachman guided the team of four to a raised mound where trees and shrubs dotted a grassy lawn that sloped off in all directions. Sarah chose a shady area under an old cascading willow tree as the perfect spot for a picnic.

If Katrina had to spend a day without being near Julian, at least she was in a pretty place.

After setting a large wicker hamper on the white cotton blanket, Sarah’s footman returned to the barouche.

‘This really was a fine idea, and at this early hour I’d be surprised if we encounter anyone else for hours.’ Katrina began unpacking the food from the hamper. ‘I can’t recall the last time I was on a picnic. Whatever made you think of this?’

Sarah gave a careless shrug. ‘It came to me the other day when I was in Hyde Park. I was told this is an ideal place to pass the time. Spending the day away from London is a nice reprieve from all the calls we must make and the dull visitors we must receive.’

‘Whatever would I do without you?’

Sarah’s lips turned up in a mischievous grin. ‘Trust me when I say you would be lost without me.’

* * *

Not far away, two riders were racing through a clearing at top speed. The coat-tails of the rider in front flapped in the wind behind him. A satisfied smile rested on his lips. The second rider clutched his horse tightly with his muscular thighs. His slightly long black hair whipped into his eyes as he angled his body lower, attempting to outrun his opponent. His face was set in an expression of pure determination, and he was oblivious to the scenery around him.

Julian kept his eyes fixed on the grove of trees that marked the finish line. ‘You’ll never outrun me!’ he yelled over the pounding of hoofbeats.

‘This race isn’t over yet!’ Hart yelled back as he pulled his horse directly to the left of Julian’s.

Julian’s horse was ahead by a neck when they reached the trees. As he pulled in the reins he spun his horse around and laughed. ‘And that, my friend, is how you win a race.’

‘You don’t say? I would not have noticed you had won if you had been remiss in mentioning it.’

‘That is why I knew it was my duty to do so.’

Julian had forgotten how much he enjoyed flying through the fields at top speed. He was glad Hart had suggested this outing. He could have called on Katrina today, but he had been shaken by the intensity of his need for her when they’d been alone at the Whitfields’ ball. His carelessness at not locking the door had almost cost her her reputation. Fortunately Hart valued discretion. The next time he was alone with her, if they were not careful, they might not be so lucky.

‘You realise I held back?’ Hart said, breathing hard. He tossed his head to move the lock of hair that fell over his eye. The lock slid down again.

‘Yes, you have the appearance of a man who took his time,’ Julian replied, smirking.

‘I do, don’t I? In any event, it was a fine race. Let’s find a spot in the shade to rest the horses. I do believe I have a flask somewhere on me.’ Hart searched their surroundings and smiled. ‘Maybe we could beg refreshment from those fair ladies sitting in the shade,’ he said, gesturing with his head.

There was a large willow tree with a thick covering of branches swaying slightly in the breeze. It wasn’t until a strong gust of wind blew the branches aside that he spied the women sitting under it. How was it possible that Katrina was sitting not far from him on the park-like grounds of Hart’s estate? She was wearing a straw bonnet, a white and blue striped gown, and a blue spencer—and she was stunning.

* * *

Watching the men approach lazily on horseback, Katrina wondered why she had chosen this particular bonnet to wear today. She was certain there was a better choice in her wardrobe somewhere.

‘I do believe that is Lyonsdale and Lord Hartwick,’ Sarah said softly, smiling at the men as they rode closer. ‘What a strange coincidence that they’re here today as well.’

Katrina watched her friend with suspicious eyes. ‘You couldn’t possibly have known...could you?’

‘How could I have known they would be here? It isn’t as if I am a friend of either His Grace or Lord Hartwick. You look quite fetching, by the way. Your face has a bit of a pink glow.’

Katrina glared at her friend.

‘I am simply stating my opinion,’ continued Sarah.

By the time the men reached them Katrina could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She watched Julian pull his mount to a stop under the tree. The footman approached as well.

Sarah motioned him away. ‘You may stand with the carriage. We will not be requiring your assistance.’

‘Ladies, what a pleasant surprise,’ Lord Hartwick said with a tip of his head. ‘I was not aware that you were acquainted with this place.’

‘This is our first foray here, my lord. It’s quite picturesque,’ Sarah replied in an overly pleasant voice.

Julian arched his brow at Katrina and she lifted her shoulder in a slight shrug. To her, he appeared to be a suspect in this ‘chance encounter’ as well.

‘This is one of my favourite places,’ Lord Hartwick said. ‘The view from here is rather stunning. Have you had an opportunity to study the landmarks, Miss Forrester?’

‘Why, no, I can’t say that I have.’

Lord Hartwick jumped down from his horse and held his hand out to Sarah. ‘Would you be interested in having me point them out to you?’

One might think there was a fire on the blanket, watching the speed with which Sarah stood. ‘That is most kind of you, Lord Hartwick.’

Katrina suppressed the urge to trip her as they brushed the cascading branches out of their way and walked to the look-out with his horse trailing behind.

Julian slid out of his saddle and tied the reins to a branch. Patches of sunlight danced along his brown coat through the leaves.

He gestured towards the blanket with his hand. ‘May I?’

She nodded as she took off her least favourite bonnet.

After he had accepted a glass of Madeira, he stretched out his legs. ‘I only decided on this adventure last night. How did you arrange this?’

Katrina wondered why she had never noticed that his legs were so long and powerful. She raised her gaze to meet his. ‘I didn’t arrange this. I assumed you did.’

They both turned to find their friends occupied with viewing the scenery through the trees. ‘You do realise you are on his land?’

It would take a great deal of control not to trip Sarah at some point today. ‘I was not aware. Sarah never said...’

‘They believe they are quite clever.’

‘I believe they are two people who should never be left alone together. In some ways they are far too much alike. Does he know?’

He appeared affronted by her question. ‘About our arrangement? No, I vowed not to tell anyone. Does she know?’

Katrina shook her head. ‘It was difficult not to tell her, but I too have kept our secret.’

He looked back at their friends. ‘I wonder what they would say if we told them we might have been alone in your home if it weren’t for their assistance.’

‘I believe my picnic would come to a rather abrupt end.’

‘And I believe my friend would suddenly remember an important meeting back in Town.’

The sight of Julian’s soft lips curving into a smile left her mouth dry. While she had been attracted to him before, knowing what his kisses did to her was a complete distraction now. Did those kisses have any effect on him as well? Would he want to kiss her again?

She took a sip of Madeira. ‘While we are waiting for them to stop pretending they are interested in the view, I was wondering if you might offer some assistance in a matter that has been troubling me.’

A look of concern crossed his face. ‘Of course.’

‘Recently I received a substantial bouquet of thistle and ragwort. Unfortunately the sender was remiss in signing the card. I don’t suppose you would have any idea who in London might send such a thing?’

His brow creased, but he had a hint of a smile. ‘Someone sent you weeds? How unusual. Does that happen often?’

‘Never. I found the colour combination quite striking, and I wish to show my appreciation to the sender for their thoughtfulness. But, alas, I don’t know who to thank.’ She smiled innocently.

His gaze dropped to her lips. ‘And how would you show that appreciation?’

‘I don’t believe it would be proper to divulge that to anyone but the sender. A pity, that...’

‘Yes, a pity.’ He shifted slightly. ‘You can give me an idea, though?’

‘No. I don’t believe I can.’ Katrina averted her eyes as she tried not to smile.

He leaned towards her. ‘Not even a hint?’

She shook her head and took another sip of Madeira.

Julian swallowed hard.

She bit back a smile. Perhaps he did want to kiss her again. There had to be something they could talk about that did not conjure up thoughts of his lips on her skin. Her breasts began to tingle and she almost spilled her wine.

‘Do you ride here often?’ she asked, all in one breath.

It took him a moment to answer, as if his thoughts had been far from where they were. ‘I haven’t in an age. Although Hart and I have enjoyed racing up this mound for many years.’

‘I assume from the familiar way you refer to him that you are great friends?’

He nodded. ‘We are. I have known him all my life. Our family estates border one another, and we attended Cambridge together. And you and Miss Forrester—are you great friends?’

‘I feel we are becoming so. I was introduced to her years ago in Washington, and now we share a similar circumstance in a foreign land. She has a good heart, and we have similar tastes in amusement.’

‘Is Washington your home?’

‘While I’ve spent considerable time there, my home is in New York. We have a residence not far from New York Harbour, where my father owns a shipyard, but we also own a home further north in Tarrytown, along the Hudson River, away from the hustle and bustle of town.’

It appeared as if he wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure how to put it into words.

Katrina tilted her head and studied his uncomfortable expression. ‘Is there something you want to ask me?’

‘I understand he is a widower. I was wondering... That is to say...’

‘Do you wish to know about my mother?’

He nodded. ‘Forgive me, I am certain it is a subject you do not wish to discuss.’

‘There is no need to apologise for your interest. My mother died long ago.’

An unsettled expression crossed his face as he turned away. ‘You have my condolences.’

‘Thank you.’

She had never known her mother. From what she could tell from her father, her parents had loved each other deeply. That was what she wanted in a marriage.

She studied Julian’s chiselled profile. He was an honourable man. He was easy to speak with and he made her laugh. Would she find a man like him when she returned to America? Her heart grew heavy, and she reached for more wine.

‘You mentioned you have known Lord Hartwick since you were children. I cannot imagine you so young. What were you like?’

He appeared to consider her question thoroughly. Then his lips curved and his eyes sparkled. ‘I wanted to be a pirate.’

That was an unexpected revelation. ‘If I promise to keep your secret, will you tell me if you were successful?’

He smiled. ‘I did have a swordfight in a boat. Do you suppose that counts?’

‘I suppose. Did it have a crew?’

‘I presided over a crew of one. My first mate attempted a mutiny, hence the swordfight. Apparently he was tired of rowing.’

‘Your first mate didn’t happen to be Lord Hartwick?’

Julian laughed and shook his head. ‘Actually, it was my brother, Edward.’

That was a new revelation. Why had she never seen his brother at any of the social engagements she had attended?

‘I was unaware you had a brother.’

‘I did. He was killed in a riding accident nine years ago—a month before my father died.’ Pain and loss were reflected in his eyes.

She held out her hand to offer some comfort. He threaded his fingers through hers and then stared at their intertwined hands as if he had never seen his hand placed with another.

‘Were you very close?’

A sad smile crossed his lips. ‘We were born only ten months apart and were inseparable.’

‘You are very fortunate to have had him in your life, even for a short while. I always wanted a brother or a sister to share in my amusements. And I have a sneaking suspicion the two of you might have enjoyed a bit of mischief together.’

His eyes crinkled at the corners as a full smile brightened his previously melancholy demeanour and he let go of her hand. ‘We might have found ourselves in trouble a time or two. I recall one autumn we decided to hide in piles of leaves and startle the gardeners as they worked on tidying up the gardens around our estate. I don’t believe they found it as amusing as we did.’

‘Did you receive a scolding or did news of your antics never reach your parents?’

‘My parents were unaware. However, my grandmother informed us that if the gardeners refused to clean up the leaves Edward and I would be forced to do it ourselves.’ He rubbed his hands on his thighs, as if he was eager to recount another amusing tale. ‘There was also one summer when a vast number of frogs were mysteriously finding their way into my mother’s bedchamber.’ He let out an uncharacteristically loud bark of laughter. ‘To this day I can still recall the sound of her screeches each time she discovered one.’

How was it possible that this reputable duke was more mischievous as a child than she had ever been? The very thought of his very dour mother jumping around her bedchamber made Katrina laugh.

* * *

It surprised Julian that there wasn’t any hollowness in his chest as he discussed Edward. In fact, in an odd way, he felt closer to his brother now than he had in a long time.

A dragonfly landed on his sleeve and fluttered its wings for a few moments before it flew away.

His brow furrowed. ‘Are you eager to head back to America?’

‘It’s not easy to be away so long from what is comfortable and familiar.’

‘I suppose it isn’t,’ he agreed, out of politeness. All his life everything around Julian had been familiar—everything except the way he felt being with this woman. Being around Katrina made him feel somehow different, somehow more alive.

‘I say, Miss Forrester, may I open that bottle of wine for you?’ Hart asked as he and Miss Forrester joined them on the blanket.

Julian dragged his gaze away from Katrina. ‘Did you enjoy the scenery?’

‘Miss Forrester and I took note of every building we were able to see from here—twice.’ Hart poured some wine and handed the glass to Katrina’s friend. ‘I say, Miss Vandenberg, is that pigeon pie?’

‘It is, my lord. Would you care for some?’

‘Yes, please,’ Hart said, sending her one of his charming smiles. ‘And you do not have to “my lord” me, Miss Vandenberg. Hartwick will suffice.’

Julian was uncertain if he liked them being on familiar terms. But it was not as if he thought Hart would seduce her. He knew his friend would never betray him. And it most certainly was not that he thought Katrina might prefer gregarious Hart to him.

After the four of them had finished eating most of the delicious food that had been packed into the basket, Hart took off his coat and reclined on the blanket, placing his hands behind his head. ‘That was the finest picnic fare I have ever eaten.’

Had his friend forgotten entirely how to act around proper unmarried women?

‘Hart, ladies are present. Put your coat back on,’ chided Julian.

Hart tilted his head back. ‘I am comfortable this way. We are on a picnic, far from prying eyes. Ladies, are you offended by my shirtsleeves? Honestly, it isn’t as if I were attempting a seduction.’

In exasperation, Julian threw a strawberry at Hart’s head.

‘Hey, what was...? Oh, I love strawberries.’ He bit into it.

‘You will apologise for that last remark.’

‘About strawberries? But I really do like them.’

‘Not that comment, dolt!’

Miss Forrester snorted.

Hart jerked his head around. ‘Did that sound come out of such a delicate lady?’

‘Apologise,’ scolded Julian, losing his patience.

‘Fine!’ Hart spun around and stood. ‘Ladies, I am terribly sorry I have offended you with my shirtsleeves and my glib tongue. It is not often that I find myself in such estimable company, and I will try my best to refrain from offending you in the future. However, I feel I must state that chances are great that I will offend in some way.’ He bowed down low with great flourish.

The women exchanged a glance and laughed. ‘You are forgiven, Hartwick,’ said Miss Forrester with a wave of her hand. ‘Keep your coat off if you wish. I assure you Katrina and I will not be offended. It is not such an unusual sight back home.’

Hart turned to Julian. ‘America sounds like a place I would enjoy immensely.’ He reclined back on the blanket and crossed his hands behind his head.

It was difficult for Julian not to kick him.

Katrina bit into a strawberry and studied Hart’s relaxed pose. ‘Why do you suppose it isn’t proper for a lady to see a man in his shirtsleeves?’

Hart flipped onto his stomach and rested his chin in his hand. ‘I was wondering that very thing myself.’

Miss Forrester, who was sitting next to him, raised her wine glass. ‘It isn’t as if we would swoon at the sight of a man’s arms. At least I would not.’

‘You need to take a closer look at my arms,’ Hart stated.

‘I see your arms now, Hartwick, and I find myself amazingly upright,’ she replied.

Katrina turned to Julian. ‘Do you suppose someone thinks a woman might lose control of her actions if she sees a man’s broad shoulders and muscular arms?’

‘Not all arms are muscular,’ commented Miss Forrester.

Julian shrugged, tying not to think of spending time with Katrina in a state of undress. His blood pounded through his veins. ‘We could test your theory.’

Bloody hell! When had he lost the ability to think before he spoke?

Hart choked on his Madeira. ‘Capital idea, Julian. Why don’t you take your coat off as well?’

Miss Forrester smiled brightly. ‘Yes, do, Lyonsdale. Apparently Hartwick, while finely made, simply is not causing Katrina and I to question our moral fibre.’

Hart narrowed his eyes at her.

‘Well, I did acknowledge that you were finely made,’ she amended. ‘However, to test the theory properly we need more than one subject.’

Both Miss Forrester and Hart stared at him.

‘You want me to remove my coat?’

‘It was your idea,’ Miss Forrester pointed out.

‘His Grace never does anything improper,’ Hart muttered, refilling Miss Forrester’s glass.

* * *

Katrina thought that Julian had done nothing but act improperly with her since the moment they’d met. However, she was not about to voice that thought. She had seen men in their shirtsleeves before. Why was the mere thought of Julian in his making her feel different? Suddenly she was very eager to see him remove his coat.

He looked over at her. ‘What is your opinion on the matter, Miss Vandenberg? It is your question we are addressing.’

She rubbed her lips. ‘Hartwick in his shirtsleeves is having no effect on me. I suppose if we are to be scientific on the matter we need you to remove your coat as well.’

He smiled at her and her stomach flipped. ‘I am glad to hear he has no effect on you.’

‘Yes, yes...we know. I have no effect on the ladies,’ Hart said impatiently, with a wave of his hand. ‘Just take your damn coat off.’

‘Tut-tut, Hartwick. There is no need to resort to such language,’ Sarah said in amusement.

‘Very well,’ Julian said.

Reluctantly, he stood and removed his coat.

The air left her lungs as she watched his brown coat fall away, revealing a broad chest behind his yellow waistcoat and a pair of strong, curved shoulders. Maybe the English were correct. Maybe women should not see men in their shirtsleeves.

‘I am sorry,’ Sarah said. ‘It appears we still have no answer as to why men need to remain in their coat-tails.’

‘Wait, Miss Forrester,’ Hartwick said slowly. ‘Miss Vandenberg hasn’t given us her opinion.’

What could she say? Could you remove your waistcoat and shirt as well?

She scratched the back of her neck and bit her lip. ‘You look very nice without your coat.’

He looked triumphantly at his friend.

‘Just because she gave you a compliment it doesn’t mean you look better than I do. Miss Vandenberg is being polite and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.’

‘This is not a comparison of who looks better, Hartwick,’ Sarah said. ‘We are trying to determine if seeing a man in his shirtsleeves causes us to act irrationally.’

‘Are you sure, Miss Forrester, that you have no desire to act the least bit irrationally?’ Hartwick asked, wiggling his brows.

‘No, Hartwick. I have no desire to do so at all.’

Katrina shifted her gaze to Julian’s yellow silk waistcoat and bit her thumb. She had a longing to slide her hands over his firm chest to his broad shoulders. Her gaze edged to those inviting lips of his...

‘I have already showed you the view of the river, have I not, Miss Forrester?’ Hartwick called out.

‘Yes, but I suppose one can never fully appreciate such a lovely view unless one sees it for a second time.’

Julian was staring at Katrina, making her feel incredibly warm.

‘We can hear you,’ he bit out.

Sarah laughed, and Hartwick cleared his throat. ‘Would you like us to leave the two of you alone?’ he asked.

‘That would be highly improper, Hartwick,’ Sarah said, ‘since His Grace is in his shirtsleeves.’

‘Sarah! Honestly...’ chided Katrina, narrowing her eyes at her friend.

Julian turned to Hartwick. ‘So when I finally do something improper this is how you react?’

Hartwick raised his hands in surrender. ‘We are only trying to be accommodating. So, I think we have determined the reason why it’s improper for men to be seen in their shirtsleeves by ladies.’

Katrina turned to Hartwick. ‘No, we have not. Sarah and I are completely composed.’

‘Well, I am anyway,’ muttered her traitorous friend.

‘What other rules can we test today?’ asked Hartwick eagerly. ‘Is there some article of clothing you are not supposed to remove in our presence? I am open to suggestions.’

‘You rake!’ replied Katrina, laughing. ‘Are you trying to get us to show you our ankles?’

‘Your hair,’ Julian said suddenly.

All three turned to him, and he shrugged.

‘A lady’s hair is usually pinned up.’

Hartwick sat up. ‘That’s the spirit. We are in our shirtsleeves and you owe us a boon. I think Julian has a fine idea. You ladies should take down your hair and Julian and I will see if we can resist you.’

Sarah eyed Hartwick. ‘Suppose you lose your senses and your over-amorous nature overcomes you?’

‘That’s what Julian is here for. He is forever proper.’

‘He is sitting here in his shirtsleeves,’ Katrina pointed out sceptically as she eyed him up and down.

‘Oh, please... He has so much restraint that even if his life depended on it he would never touch you. He is the epitome of the proper English aristocrat,’ Hartwick said, with sarcasm in his voice.

Julian turned to his friend. ‘You speak as if being responsible and acting honourably is a bad thing. Maybe you would find yourself in less trouble if you tried it.’

Katrina peered through the lowest hanging branches towards Sarah’s barouche. ‘What do you think the footmen will say if they see us like this?’

‘Do not fret. No one can see us,’ replied Hartwick as he chewed on a long piece of grass.

‘Why do I believe you have said that before?’ Katrina muttered.

‘Why, Miss Vandenberg, I am offended,’ Hartwick said, bringing his hand to his chest. ‘I think there is a bit of fire in you.’

She turned to Julian. ‘Was that a compliment?’

The enticing man with the broad shoulders shrugged. ‘It’s difficult to tell.’

‘Of course it was a compliment. A lady with a bit of fire in her is much more enjoyable than a milksop.’

‘You thought I was a milksop?’

‘No. As I said, you have a bit of fire in you. Miss Forrester, on the other hand, is infinitely boring.’

Sarah shook her head. ‘You are only saying that because I did not swoon when you removed your coat.’

‘No. For that, I think you may need spectacles. But we are getting away from the point. I believe Julian challenged you ladies to take down your hair?’

‘It was hardly a challenge. I was simply curious.’

‘I am trying to help facilitate your request,’ Hartwick replied impatiently. ‘Perhaps you could persuade the ladies. They seem to trust you more than me.’

‘I can’t imagine why,’ muttered Katrina.

Sarah cleared her throat, catching their attention. ‘I believe we are testing theories today. Katrina, please remove the pins from your hair.’ Sarah began to arrange her own hairpins on the skirt of her cinnamon-coloured gown. ‘We can easily re-pin each other shortly.’

Hartwick laughed out loud. ‘Well done, Miss Forrester.’ He made a show of studying her. ‘Now, what colour is that, exactly?’ His eyes dropped to his mud-splattered boots and he smiled. ‘Oh, I know. You hair is an earthy colour.’

‘It is chestnut, Hartwick,’ Sarah said, shaking out her hair. ‘A gleaming, glossy chestnut. Which you would realise if you weren’t so self-absorbed,’ she teased.

‘I am self-absorbed? How many times today have you admired your slippers?’

‘What has that to do with anything? I like my new slippers.’

‘Apparently so. Julian, have you seen anyone look at their feet...?’

* * *

The moment Katrina removed one pin from her hair Julian was transfixed. He watched as little by little ringlets of golden silk cascaded past her neck, down her back, and over the slope of her breasts.

Many nights he had pictured her in his bed with her hair down, and he had wondered how long it was. Would it cover her breasts if she rode him? Would it bounce against the small of her back as he took her from behind? Now he knew that the ends of her hair curled against the lower curves of her breasts. His mouth began to water as he imagined the feel of her hair against his cheek as he slid his tongue along those breasts...

Before he was aware of what he was doing, he slid his fingers into the soft strands. Everything around them fell away, and the only thing that mattered was the woman next to him. He kissed her softly and she placed her hand on his chest. He deepened the kiss, certain she must feel his heart and soul pounding against her hand.

‘I thought you said he was always proper?’ Miss Forrester’s voice broke the silence.

‘He was until he met your friend,’ Hart replied.

‘Maybe it’s your influence.’

‘I’ve tried for years to get him to follow his desires. This is none of my doing.’

‘I don’t believe they should be doing that, even with us in attendance.’

‘It is just a kiss.’

‘That is not just a kiss, Hartwick.’

‘No. I suppose you are correct, Miss Forrester. That definitely is not just a kiss.’

It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Julian managed to pull his head back. Katrina buried her face in his shoulder and he rubbed his cheek against her soft hair.

‘We can hear you.’ His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.

‘We know,’ Hart said, taking a sip of wine.

It had taken all his restraint to leave his hand on Katrina’s jaw and not move it to any other part of her body. He was finally able to position one of his legs to hide the strain in his breeches. How could he have kissed her in front of Hart and Miss Forrester? How could the simple act of her taking down her hair have made him so excited? When could he get her alone to continue what they’d started?

‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea to show Miss Forrester the view?’ he suggested to Hart.

His friend smirked at him. ‘I have already done so.’

‘Perhaps she hasn’t seen all that this hill has to offer.’

‘I believe I have seen quite a bit of what this hill has to offer,’ Miss Forrester said dryly, raising her glass to her lips.

‘Do the two of you have something important to tell us?’ Hart said, as he crossed his legs in front of him and rocked his boots from side to side. ‘You have kissed each other in front of Miss Forrester and me. Should I be requesting pistols at dawn to defend Miss Vandenberg’s honour?’

Julian was about to chastise Hart, but Katrina spoke up first. ‘Don’t be nonsensical, Hartwick. You of all people should understand. It was simply a kiss.’

What did she mean, it was simply a kiss? Had it not been her lips he was kissing? Had she not felt that...that...thing?

‘So there is no impending announcement you wish to share with us?’ Hart asked.

‘Heavens, no,’ exclaimed Katrina with a light laugh.

Julian studied the woman whose lips were still wet from his kiss. She had moved away, putting distance between them. Did she have to sound so relieved that she would never need to marry him?

To hell with being cautious—he needed to see her alone again.

The Complete Regency Surrender Collection

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