Chapter Five

 

Colin considered that perhaps he had died and gone to Heaven. The woman who lay beneath him was most certainly an angel. How else could one describe her beauty? Honey-blonde locks fell down her back— or in her current position created a halo around her head. Blue eyes sparkled more than the ruby on his finger. A fire roared inside him at her pouty lips begging to be kissed.

Oh, but how she tempts me!

Perhaps his cousin had been correct in her description of the honey wine. The fact that he had fallen asleep drunk— and his aching head— said as much. But when he heard someone discussing his ring, he had used all his strength to subdue the would-be thief. It was not until he had her back pressed to the ground that he realized she was of the female persuasion.

As they exchanged words, he could not help but consider their positions— both literally and figuratively. After all, any man with his form atop that of a woman should have retreated immediately upon realizing his mistake, but he found he did not have the strength. She wore a mischievous grin that caused a most welcoming sensation to come over him.

His eyes took on a life of their own, and he found himself staring at the damp shift that showed off a very pleasant feminine form.

You are a duke, by God! he chastised himself. He was no rogue, nor was he a man who gazed upon women with lust! Surely, he had damned himself to Hell with his scandalous actions. Yet, whether it was due to inability or unwillingness, he did not look away. No, this woman was to be admired, and was he the only worthy man to do so.

“You’re a brute! Your eyes betray your lust! Get off of me at once!”

Could he argue with her words? There she was, pinned beneath him. Although her voice held anger, her eyes displayed something else, something he could not name. Something he found welcoming. Any gentleman worthy of his title would leap to his feet and apologize for such brazen behavior, yet Colin feared that if he allowed the woman to go, he would never see her again. And he found the idea dreadful.

Finally, rational thinking returned, and he stood.

Well, offer her a hand up! his voice of reason snapped.

The woman hesitated before placing her hand in his. It was rough, the fingertips calloused, telling a story of a life of hard work. Although her hair was damp and she was wearing only his coat over her clinging sift, he found her natural fragrance alluring. A strange desire came over him, a craving to touch her face, to taste those pouty lips just begging to be kissed. Standing there above her, a primal need to protect her overtook him. From whom or what was unknown, but he would gladly do it all the same.

The throbbing in his head lessened, and for a moment, he was uncertain how to proceed. Should he be the gentleman he was brought up to be and apologize for his actions?

“I’m the Duke of Greystoke,” he said, offering her a small bow. “I thank you for not robbing me, although I do request that you return my coat.”

Had he taken on the role of jester in the King’s court? It was not the intoxication of the honey wine that made him say such witless words but rather the woman who stood before him. He had never felt so weak in the presence of any other person— even the King himself! Her laughter did not help ease his frustration, either.

Oh, but what a sharp tongue this little vixen had! She wielded it as well as any master swordsman, dueling him in wit and teasing. And she was unwilling to return his coat, or so she claimed. Never had a woman made him feel so alive! Blood pulsed through his veins faster than the water flowed in the river beside them.

She leaned against a large rock, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that awoke a yearning inside him. Twice she had called him handsome, yet he had not yet expressed how beautiful he found her. But he planned to. Although he feared the word was not strong enough to do her justice.

“Colin is a fine name,” she said with that playful smile. Then she knitted her brow in thought. “I believe it means strong. Or is it handsome?”

When she tilted her head just so, Colin had to rein in the beast within him. He was a gentleman, not a lion!

“Regardless,” she continued, “I’ll call you Colin.” Then she grinned.

He took a small sip from the bottle without thought that it had gotten him into the strange— and quite alluring— predicament and handed it back. “My cousin may believe you to be a thief, but I do not.”

He cringed. What had made him utter such a statement?

“Do you mean Master Markus?” she replied. “He’s accused my family of all sorts of atrocities, as did his father. I can assure you, what they’ve said is all untrue.”

Colin took a half-step toward her. “I believe you. At least that you’re no thief.”

“Your opinion does nothing to change the truth,” she said with a laugh. “And why are you out here of all places? Do you not have a hunt in which to partake? Or perhaps a party in London where your attendance is expected?”

That same mischievous grin made him laugh. Already he found this woman quite fascinating. “As a duke, I’m expected to do many things, in that you’re correct. But I’ve come to the home of my cousin to escape. Not from a fox hunt or a party, but from something far worse.”

Anna raised a single eyebrow. “Well, I must hear what would be far worse than a hunt.”

He walked over and leaned beside her on the rock. “As a duke, one would believe that my life would be mine, to do as I please. But that is not the case. There are responsibilities, customs, expectations, so many requirements with which I would not wish to bore you.” He turned toward her. “You don’t plan to run off with my coat, do you?” he asked, hoping to change the topic of conversation to something more pleasant.

She gave an exaggerated gasp and placed a hand to her breast. “I’ve never been so insulted in all my life. And by a duke, no less! Please, insult me again. If you dare to face my wrath.”

He wanted nothing more than to take her up on her offer. “For a woman of your advanced years, you are quick with your tongue.”

“My advanced years?” she replied with a voice so flat, the cook could have used a rolling pin on it.

“Why yes,” he said, pressing as much innocence into his tone as he could muster. “You must be at least thirty. Perhaps even closer to forty.”

This time her laugh was accompanied by a playful fist to his arm. How could he know this woman no more than ten minutes yet feel as if he had known her forever? He found her a breath of fresh air, and their oral fencing was a delight. After calling on Lady Katherine for several months, he had yet to feel this close to her. Yes, this was a delightful change, indeed.

As their laughter died down, Colin allowed himself the privilege of soaking in her feminine form. Or what he could see with his coat covering her. Why the girl was not married was a mystery, one he hoped to unravel.

“Are you always this friendly to those you first meet?” she asked.

“Not typically,” he replied. “Too often, when I first meet people, it is for matters of business, which does not allow for much friendliness.”

Her smile was as warm as the breeze that blew around them, and she walked over to pluck a blade of grass. She held it high above her and released it, and it floated away on the air.

“And you?” he asked. “What are you doing here. Of all places?” He added the last belatedly.

“Oh, I often come here to swim. Or to sit on the log bridge to listen to the flow of the water.” She returned to stand in front of him and, to his surprise, placed a hand on his chest. “Now that we’ve been properly acquainted, and seeing that my dress is now dry, I must go.”

An odd sensation of the world closing in on him threatened to take away his breath forever. He had to— no, he needed to— spend time with her again. “When shall I see you next?”

She removed the dress from the rock, folded it and held it against her hip. “Meet me here in two days at midday. Oh, and if you’re truly a gentleman, see that you bring a basket of food with you.” As she took another step closer, Colin’s heart thumped harder when she looked directly at him. “One more thing.”

“Yes?” he said, preparing himself for the kiss he knew she would request. One he would be happy to oblige.

“I need something from you.”

Colin wet his lips and dipped his head. “And I shall give it to you.”

When he placed his hands around her waist, she sighed. He pulled her against him, and he was overcome with desire.

She smiled, not taking her eyes off his as the tips of her fingers trailed down his upper arm with aggravating slowness, making his skin pebble beneath the sleeves of his shirt. They then continued down his forearm, sending heat to his midsection. Her lips parted, and he leaned closer.

Then she winked and pulled the bottle from his hand. “Thank you.”

Colin found himself in a state of disbelief when Anna laughed. “You’re horrible!”

“I can be at times,” she said, poking him in the chest. “You really should be more careful in my company.”

“Anna!” came a male voice.

“It’s my brother,” Anna said, her voice filled with fright. “You’d best run!”

“Anna, what are you…”

A man near Colin’s age emerged from the trees on the opposite side of the river, a boy of perhaps seven at his side. His eyes went wide only a moment before rage crossed his features.

“You rogue!” he shouted. “I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

Anna pushed Colin toward the woods. “Run!” she hissed. “I’ll see you soon!”

Colin nodded. He was in Wilkworth for leisure, not to engage in a bout of fisticuffs. He was no coward, but fighting would only make it more difficult for him to see Anna again. And that, he could not have!

So, he ran into the woods, the cries of her brother following after him. Within a single hour, Colin had fallen asleep in a drunken stupor, been awakened by a beautiful woman straddling him wearing nothing but a thin, wet shift that did more than hint at the shapely form beneath. And now her irate brother wanted to fight him. It was a far cry from anything he had ever experienced before.

And he loved every moment of it!