The ladies trickled into the changing room over the next thirty minutes. The air in the tiny room soon grew stifling from the outside heat and number of bodies. By Harrison’s count, they had two more guests to go before a loser was declared and they could return upstairs. Nellie Young and Alice Lusk were still searching the chateau grounds for Maddie’s hiding place.
During the wait, he was polite, responding when prompted, but his focus remained fixated on the woman next to him in the dark, her sweet curves pressed tight to his right side.
Maddie wanted him.
Victory had streaked through him at her admission, making him dizzy. His body responded swiftly, his cock thickening in his trousers and hunger slithering through his veins. He suspected they would have kissed, if not for the inopportune intrusion.
Soon.
On his other side was Lydia Hartwell, a young woman who spoke her mind, unafraid of expressing her opinions. Much like Maddie, which probably explained why the two were friends. Also, Miss Hartwell was unapologetically interested in unconventional pursuits, similar to Maddie’s love of tennis.
“I cannot believe you’ve never hunted,” Miss Hartwell was saying.
Killing other creatures had never been high on Harrison’s list of relaxing endeavors. Bordellos, salons and cafes were his preferred methods to unwind, at least in the last few years. “I am a city boy, through and through, I suppose. We went to the Adirondacks and Newport, but that was mostly about swimming and sailing.”
He felt Maddie move closer. “Harrison doesn’t even enjoy fishing,” she chimed in. “He insists on throwing his catch back in the water.”
“So do you,” he pointed out.
“Goodness,” Miss Hartwell said. “You are both hopeless. Come to Montana and we’ll go fly fishing. Then we’ll cook what we catch on an open fire.”
That sounded like a punishment, not a vacation. Nevertheless, he said politely, “Thank you. Perhaps one day—”
A gentle brush on his right knee caught him by surprise. He froze, his words dying in his throat as every muscle in his body went on alert.
The fingertips returned, bolder this time as they deliberately slid over his leg. Someone was touching him, groping him, with light fingers. He blinked in the darkness, uncertain what to do. Who would dare? Was Maddie responsible?
The women around him talked as if nothing was amiss. Yet someone was dragging her fingers along his leg, feeling his thigh through his trousers. Maddie must have been responsible. She was the closest, other than Miss Hartwell, who did not seem the type to act so boldly with a stranger. Not to mention it would require her to reach over him, which was not as easily done.
Then, just for an instant, the hard edge of a metal prong, like the ones on a large stone setting, brushed his leg.
The ducal betrothal ring.
Those fingers belonged to Maddie. He was absolutely certain of it.
A light sweat broke out on his skin, heat rushing through his entire body as her exploration continued. He allowed it, reveling in the knowledge that she wished to caress him. Hell, he’d encourage her. In fact, she could keep going until she reached his cock, which was growing stiff and eager for the attention.
“Is something wrong?” Maddie whispered.
“Not a dashed thing,” he said quietly. “Keep going.”
The touch was delicate but it seemed as if every nerve in his body was centered in that one place. His chest heaved, nostrils flaring as he pulled in air, the rest of him perfectly still while the fingers lingered and bedeviled him. Teased and tested the shape of his thigh.
“You are worrying me,” she said. “Is everything all right?”
How could she not know?
Leaning over, he put his lips near the shell of her ear. “Higher.”
The fingers skimmed upward, onto his inner thigh.
Fuck.
His head dropped back, thumping against the wall, and he struggled not to move, not to roll his hips or push into that seeking hand. His skin crawled with anticipation, turning both hot and cold at the same time, desire burning him alive. Was she enjoying this, too? Because he might actually break down and cry if she pulled her hand away.
Miss Hartwell began speaking to him again, asking about his time in Paris. Had he been to the restaurant inside the Eiffel Tower? Had he met many artists and writers? What was the Folies-Bergère like? Harrison answered as best he could, each sentence a trek through quicksand. Mostly he grunted one- or two-word responses, praying that was enough to avoid drawing any attention to his lower half.
Higher and higher went the swirling, tempting fingertips, doing everything possible to drive him out of his mind. A tempest raged inside him, this burning need for Maddie that he’d tried to control for years, and with her fingers creeping ever so closer to his groin, he feared he might lose his grip on his restraint. Would she stop? Or would she stroke him, feel the hard ridges of his cock and soft weight of his balls through his clothing?
He groaned and tried to cover it with a cough.
“What is going on?” Maddie hissed.
He hadn’t known her to be a clever liar, but those questioning fingers had to belong to her. He felt it deep in his bones. There was no other plausible explanation. If he believed another guest was responsible, he would have put a stop to it from the start.
No, this was most assuredly Maddie, and he craved her caresses like his next breath.
The lack of stimulating conversation must have frustrated Miss Hartwell because she turned to the young woman on her other side and struck up a chat. The fingers on his thigh stilled, unsure, and he waited, blood rushing in his ears, while time slowed to a halt.
Her lips hovered near the shell of his right ear. “Shall I remove my hand?”
Fuck. His words from earlier.
He angled toward her, close enough so that only Maddie could hear. “Don’t you dare.”
The touch grew bolder, a voyage of discovery. Attention was paid to the crease of his thigh, the fingers ever so lightly smoothing the cloth there. He gripped the edge of the bench, and his nails dug into the wood like a man hanging on to his sanity. God, yes. Keep going. Just a bit to the left.
Then she danced away, moving closer to his knee again, and he slumped in the seat, disappointed. He couldn’t help but offer instruction. “Wrong direction,” he crooned in her ear. “Tease me, Mads.”
Her fingers flattened along his thigh and slid upward, lighter than he preferred but somehow perfect because it was Maddie. His balls ached and his groin was heavy with need, every cell in his body straining to remain still and quiet. Would she stroke his cock? If she did, he might spend in his trousers.
The door flew open, startling everyone, and Harrison blinked into the light. The hand had already disappeared from his thigh by the time he saw Kit in the entryway.
“There’s been a slight mishap,” Kit announced. “Miss Lusk has turned her ankle, so we’re calling an end to the game.”
The ladies each expressed their sympathy for Miss Lusk, talking among themselves as they filed out the door. Harrison remained seated, rude as it was, in an effort to hide the erection in his trousers. When Maddie rose and started to follow everyone to the exit, he clasped her wrist, stopping her.
She cast a frown down at him. Her skin was flushed, but he wasn’t sure if it was from touching him or the heat inside the room. She said, “I must go and check on Alice.”
Was she serious?
“Wait a moment.” The last of the guests departed and the two of them were alone. “What about just now?”
She huffed in annoyance, her eyes shooting daggers at him. “Harrison, I don’t have time for this.”
Fair enough. He would rather have her alone for this discussion, anyway. “Meet me in the gazebo at half past midnight.”
She started to open her mouth—to protest, no doubt—so he held up a hand and came to his feet. “Tonight, Maddie. Be there.” He moved closer and dipped his head. “Or else I’ll come find you.”
Flustered from the changing room, Maddie stepped outside and slipped her hat on her head. What had come over her in there? It was like his presence in that tiny room had stolen her reason, scattered her thoughts. She’d been brazen. Daring. A selfish woman who’d behaved recklessly, with little regard to the serious consequences that could result.
Now everything was different, like the heavens had been flipped upside down. The sun felt cold on her skin, the soft breeze like needles.
Yet she couldn’t begin to stop and contemplate what it all meant, not when one of her friends had been injured.
Kit gave her a secretive glance, one that said he was aware of what had transpired in that tiny room, but that was impossible. No one could have any idea because Maddie wasn’t certain herself.
The tent was quiet, with everyone huddled in one corner around a woman in a chair. “What happened?” Maddie asked.
Alice was seated, her foot propped on another chair. “Forgive me for ruining the game, Miss Webster.” Misery shone in her troubled gaze. “There was a hole in the grass and I overlooked it. My ankle’s turned.”
“No apologies necessary.” Maddie clasped Alice’s hand. “I feel awful that you’ve been hurt.”
“It appears to be a mild twist,” Daddy said. “We sent for the doctor just to be sure.”
“Thank you, Mr. Webster,” Alice’s mother said, her lips thin and white with anger. “We are sorry for the inconvenience. Alice is too clumsy for her own good.”
Before Maddie could stick up for Alice, Nellie spoke. “Clumsy had nothing to do with it, Mrs. Lusk. There was a giant hole in the lawn. Anyone might have stepped in it.”
“Rotten gophers,” Daddy muttered. “I’ll speak to my gardeners.”
Mama sidled up to Maddie and cast Alice a sympathetic glance. “Poor thing. We should make Miss Lusk comfortable upstairs, don’t you think?”
Mrs. Lusk moved closer to her daughter, a challenging gleam in her eye. “No one should move her until the doctor arrives.”
“Nonsense.” Harrison pointed at the chair. “If we gents take a side, we can lift her and get her upstairs.”
“Ah. We used to do that in college,” Kit said. “Like a litter.”
“Surely that is not safe,” Mrs. Lusk said. “Or proper.”
“We’ll not drop her, I promise.” Harrison put a hand over his heart. “But I think she’d prefer to be out of the midst of all the attention.”
The normally shy Alice beamed at him, relief flooding her expression. “I would be very grateful, Mr. Archer.”
The ladies stepped back as Kit, Harrison and the duke removed their coats and arranged themselves at the sides of the chair. Maddie and her mother cleared a path for them to maneuver. When the three men lifted the chair, Alice grasped the wood to hold herself steady. The pace was slow and careful, with Mrs. Lusk hovering nearby to give unnecessary commentary and directions.
Maddie started to follow, but her mother stopped her. “I’ll go with Miss Lusk. You stay here with the other guests.”
“Are you certain?” She watched the strong muscles of Harrison’s shoulders shift as he moved toward the house. Goodness, he was very fit.
Meet me in the gazebo at half past midnight.
Under no circumstances could she meet him. Not alone, not after this afternoon.
Though . . . would he really come to her bedroom if she didn’t?
Her stomach fluttered, everything in her lower half clenching. No, no, no. That idea should absolutely not appeal to her. If she was dreaming of any man in her bed, it should have been her fiancé.
God, what was she going to do?
When she looked up, nearly everyone had left the tent. Nellie was the only one left. “Want to walk a bit?”
Had her friend been waiting to get her alone? Maddie went over. “I’d like that. The path by the cliffs?”
Nellie nodded and the two of them picked their way down the stone stairs to reach the Cliff Walk. Maddie was breathing hard by the time they found the narrow stretch of path that ran between the great cottages along the shoreline and the water. Every year the homeowners made the walk longer and safer to traverse.
“I apologize for Alice's accident,” Nellie said as they started along the path. The sea churned below, the foamy waves lapping at the rocks and sand. “It was my fault she was hurt.”
“You didn’t force the gopher to dig a hole in our lawn, Nellie.”
“Yes, but I did drag her across the grass in the first place. She preferred the path but I convinced her my way was shorter.”
“Accidents happen. Do not worry about it. She’ll recover.”
“Even so, I should be declared the loser. Don’t let Alice miss out on the boat excursion due to my selfishness.”
Right, the winning prize. A day on the water with Harrison and the unattached ladies sounded like absolute torture to Maddie at the moment. “Perhaps I should cancel in light of recent events.”
Nellie appeared horrified at the idea. “No, don’t cancel. They’re all looking forward to it.”
“They, but not you.”
Nellie lifted a shoulder and turned her face toward the water, but not before Maddie saw her small smile. “I admit, I would rather spend my afternoon elsewhere.”
“Are you going to tell me the identity of this mystery man?”
“No. He’s nothing serious. Regardless, a few hours trapped with a bunch of girls mooning after Harrison Archer is not my idea of fun.”
Nor Maddie’s—not any longer.
Nellie smirked when she caught Maddie’s miserable expression. “It’s obviously not your idea of fun, either. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Doing what? Hosting a house party?”
“You know what I mean. Watching Harrison cozy up to these other women.”
“I am engaged. There’s nothing to be said.”
“Engagements are broken all the time. What is it gaining you to play by their rules? A miserable marriage?”
“We’re not all as rebellious as you, Nellie.”
The other woman stopped and took Maddie’s arm. “There’s nothing stopping you. Look out there.” She gestured toward the endless expanse of water, glistening in the distance. “A whole world awaits us, one not bound by conventions or the dictates of society, and women are told not to want it because it isn’t proper. But this is our life, Maddie. Our only chance for true happiness. I am not about to waste it. Are you?”
Maddie sighed. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. Being a woman is like swimming against the tide to survive—yet you fought for the right to play tennis. What happened when that tennis club owner tried to bar women from hosting a tournament last year?”
A grin tugged at the corners of Maddie’s mouth. “I challenged him to a game.”
“Which you won. After that, he allowed women to host a tournament.”
“This is different. There are other lives that would be affected.”
“If you mean the duke, I think three of the guests and a few chaperones would propose marriage to him on the spot if you cried off.”
“I get the sense you don’t care much for Lockwood.”
“Oh. Well, I hardly know him, do I? Seems a bit stiff, but that goes with the ducal territory, I suppose.” She linked their arms, and the two of them started along the path once again. “I only ask that you think about it. The man is hopelessly in love with you.”
“The duke?”
Nellie chuckled. “You know perfectly well who I mean.”