The Viscount Who Loved Me by Julia Quinn
Anthony quirked a brow. “I’m shocked, Miss Sheffield. I had donned all my armor and was expecting you to return with, ‘I know quite enough.’ ”
Kate tried not to make a face at his imitation of her voice. But her expression was wry in the extreme as she said, “I promised Mary I would be on my best behavior.”
Anthony let out a loud hoot of laughter.
“Strangely enough,” Kate muttered, “Edwina had a similar reaction.”
He leaned one hand against the arch, carefully avoiding the thorns on the climbing rose vine. “I find myself insanely curious as to what constitutes good behavior.”
She shrugged and fiddled with the tulip in her hand. “I expect I shall figure that out as I go along.”
“But you’re not supposed to argue with your host, correct?”
Kate shot him an arch look. “There was some debate over whether or not you qualify as our host, my lord. After all, the invitation was issued by your mother.”
“True,” he acceded, “but I do own the house.”
“Yes,” she muttered, “Mary said as much.”
He grinned. “This is killing you, isn’t it?”
“Being nice to you?”
He nodded.
“It’s not the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
His expression changed slightly, as if he might be done teasing her. As if he might have something entirely different on his mind. “But it’s not the hardest thing, either, now, is it?” he murmured.
“I don’t like you, my lord,” she blurted out.
“No,” he said with an amused smile. “I didn’t think you did.”
Kate started to feel very strange, much like she had in his study, right before he’d kissed her. Her throat suddenly felt a bit tight, and her palms grew very warm. And her insides—well, there was really nothing to describe the tense, prickly feeling that tightened through her abdomen. Instinctively, and perhaps out of self-preservation, she took a step back.
He looked amused, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
She fiddled with the flower some more, then blurted out, “You shouldn’t have picked this.”
“You should have a tulip,” he said matter-of-factly. “It isn’t right that Edwina receives all the flowers.”
Kate’s stomach, already tense and prickly, did a little flip. “Nonetheless,” she managed to say, “your gardener will surely not appreciate the mutilation of his work.”
He smiled devilishly. “He’ll blame one of my younger siblings.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I should think less of you for such a ploy,” she said.
“But you don’t?”
She shook her head. “But then again, it’s not as if my opinion of you could sink very much lower.”
“Ouch.” He shook a finger at her. “I thought you were supposed to be on your best behavior.”
Kate looked around. “It doesn’t count if there is no one nearby to hear me, right?”
“I can hear you.”
“You certainly don’t count.”
His head dipped a little closer in her direction. “I should think I was the only one who did.”
Kate said nothing, not wanting even to meet his eyes. Whenever she allowed herself one glimpse into those velvety depths, her stomach started flipping anew.
“Miss Sheffield?” he murmured.
She looked up. Big mistake. Her stomach flipped again.
“Why did you seek me out?” she asked.
Anthony pushed off the wooden post and stood straight. “I didn’t, actually. I was just as surprised to see you as you were me.” Although, he thought acerbically, he shouldn’t have been. He should have realized his mother was up to something the moment she actually suggested where he take his walk.
But could she possibly be steering him to the wrong Miss Sheffield? Surely she wouldn’t choose Kate over Edwina as a prospective daughter-in-law.
“But now that I have found you,” he said, “I did have something I wanted to say.”
“Something you haven’t already said?” she quipped. “I can’t imagine.”
He ignored her jibe. “I wanted to apologize.”
That got her attention. Her lips parted with shock, and her eyes grew round. “I beg your pardon?” she said. Anthony thought her voice sounded rather like a frog.
“I owe you an apology for my behavior the other night,” he said. “I treated you most rudely.”
“You’re apologizing for the kiss?” she asked, still looking rather dazed.
The kiss? He hadn’t even considered apologizing for the kiss. He’d never apologized for a kiss, never before kissed someone for whom an apology might be necessary. He’d actually been thinking more of the unpleasant things he’d said to her after the kiss. “Er, yes,” he lied, “the kiss. And for what I said, as well.”
“I see,” she murmured. “I didn’t think rakes apologized.”
His hand flexed, then made a tight fist. It was damned annoying, this habit of hers always to jump to conclusions about him. “This rake does,” he said in clipped tones.
She took a deep breath, then let it out in a long, steady exhale. “Then I accept your apology.”
“Excellent,” he said, offering his most winning smile. “May I escort you back to the house?”
She nodded. “But don’t think this means that I will suddenly change my mind about you and Edwina.”
“I would never dream of considering you so easily swayed,” he said, quite honestly.
She turned to him, her eyes startlingly direct, even for her. “The fact remains that you kissed me,” she said bluntly.
“And you kissed me,” he could not resist returning.
Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. “The fact remains,” she repeated determinedly, “that it happened. And should you marry Edwina—regardless of your reputation, which I do not consider inconsequential—”
“No,” he murmured, interrupting her with velvet soft tones, “I didn’t think you would.”
She glared at him. “Regardless of your reputation, it would always be between us. Once something happens, you can’t take it away.”
The devil in Anthony nearly compelled him to drawl the word, “It?” forcing her to repeat the words, “The kiss,” but instead he took pity on her and let it go. Besides, she had a good point. The kiss would always be between them. Even now, with her cheeks pinkened by embarrassment and her lips pursed with irritation, he found himself wondering how she’d feel if he pulled her into his arms, how she’d taste if he traced the outline of her lips with his tongue.
Would she smell like the garden? Or would that maddening scent of lilies and soap still cling to her skin?
Would she melt into his embrace? Or would she push him away and run for the house?
There was only one way to find out, and doing so would ruin his chances with Edwina forever.
But as Kate had pointed out, maybe marrying Edwina would bring with it far too many complications. It would not do to be lusting after one’s sister-in-law, after all.
Maybe the time had come to search out a new bride, tedious though the prospect may be.
Maybe the time was right to kiss Kate Sheffield again, here in the perfect beauty of Aubrey Hall’s gardens, with the flowers grazing their legs and the smell of lilac hanging in the air.
Maybe…
Maybe…
Chapter 9
Men are contrary creatures. Their heads and their hearts are never in agreement. And as women know all too well, their actions are usually governed by a different aspect altogether.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 29 APRIL 1814
Or maybe not.
Just as Anthony was plotting the best course to her lips, he heard the perfectly awful sound of his younger brother’s voice.
“Anthony!” Colin shouted out. “There you are.”
Miss Sheffield, blissfully unaware of how close she’d come to having been kissed utterly sens
“One of these days,” Anthony muttered, “I’m going to have to kill him.”
Kate turned back. “Did you say something, my lord?”
Anthony ignored her. It was probably his best option, since not ignoring her tended to leave him rather desperately lusting after her, which was, as he well knew, a short, straight road to utter disaster.
In all truth, he probably should have thanked Colin for his untimely interruption. A few more seconds, and he would have kissed Kate Sheffield, which would have been the greatest mistake of his life.
One kiss with Kate could probably be excused, especially considering how far she’d provoked him the other night in his study. But two…well, two would have required any man of honor to withdraw his courtship of Edwina Sheffield.
And Anthony wasn’t quite ready to give up on the concept of honor.
He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to tossing aside his plan to marry Edwina. What was he thinking? She was the perfect bride for his purposes. It was only when her meddlesome sister was around that his brain grew confused.
“Anthony,” Colin said again as he drew near, “and Miss Sheffield.” He eyed them curiously; he well knew they didn’t get along. “What a surprise.”
“I was just exploring your mother’s gardens,” Kate said, “and I stumbled upon your brother.”
Anthony gave a single nod of agreement.
“Daphne and Simon are here,” Colin said.
Anthony turned to Kate and explained, “My sister and her husband.”
“The duke?” she inquired politely.
“The very one,” he grumbled.
Colin laughed at his brother’s pique. “He was opposed to the marriage,” he said to Kate. “It kills him that they’re happy.”
“Oh, for the love of—” Anthony snapped, catching himself just before he blasphemed in front of Kate. “I’m very happy that my sister is happy,” he ground out, not sounding particularly happy. “It’s simply that I should have had one more opportunity to beat the tar out of that bas—bounder before they embarked on ‘happily ever after.’ ”
Kate choked on a laugh. “I see,” she said, fairly certain that she had not kept the straight face she’d been aiming for.
Colin shot her a grin before turning back to his brother. “Daff suggested a game of Pall Mall. What do you say? We haven’t played for ages. And, if we set off soon, we can escape the milksop misses Mother has invited for us.” He turned back to Kate with the sort of grin that could win forgiveness for anything. “Present company excluded, of course.”
“Of course,” she murmured.
Colin leaned forward, his green eyes flashing with mischief. “No one would make the mistake of calling you a milksop miss,” he added.
“Is that a compliment?” she asked acerbically.
“Without a doubt.”
“Then I shall accept it with grace and good favor.”
Colin laughed and said to Anthony, “I like her.”
Anthony didn’t look amused.
“Have you ever played Pall Mall, Miss Sheffield?” Colin asked.
“I’m afraid not. I’m not even sure what it is.”
“It’s a lawn game. Brilliant fun. More popular in France than it is here, although they call it Paille Maille.”
“How does one play?” Kate asked.
“We set out wickets on a course,” Colin explained, “then hit wooden balls through them with mallets.”
“That sounds simple enough,” she mused.
“Not,” he said with a laugh, “when you’re playing with the Bridgertons.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means,” Anthony cut in, “that we’ve never seen the need to set out a regulation course. Colin sets out the wickets over tree roots—”
“And you aimed yours toward the lake,” Colin interrupted. “We never did find the red ball after Daphne sank it.”
Kate knew she shouldn’t be committing herself to an afternoon in the company of Viscount Bridgerton, but dash it all, Pall Mall sounded fun. “Might there be room for one more player?” she inquired. “Since we’ve already excluded me from the ranks of the milksops?”
“Of course!” Colin said. “I suspect you’ll fit right in with the rest of us schemers and cheaters.”
“Coming from you,” Kate said with a laugh, “I know that was a compliment.”
“Oh, for certain. Honor and honesty has its time and place, but not in a game of Pall Mall.”
“And,” Anthony cut in, a smug expression on his face, “we shall have to invite your sister as well.”
“Edwina?” Kate choked out. Drat. She’d just played right into his hand. She’d been doing her best to keep the two of them apart, and now she’d practically arranged an afternoon out. There was no way she could exclude Edwina after all but inviting herself into the game.
“Do you have another sister?” he asked mildly.
She just scowled at him. “She might not wish to play. I think she was resting in her room.”
“I’ll instruct the maid to knock very lightly on her door,” Anthony said, obviously lying.
“Excellent!” Colin said brightly. “We shall be evenly matched. Three men and three women.”
“Does one play on teams?” Kate asked.
“No,” he replied, “but my mother has always been adamant that one must be evenly matched in all things. She’ll be quite disturbed if we go out in odd numbers.”
Kate couldn’t imagine the lovely and gracious woman she’d chatted with just an hour earlier getting upset over a game of Pall Mall, but she figured it wasn’t her place to comment.
“I’ll see to fetching Miss Sheffield,” Anthony murmured, looking insufferably smug. “Colin, why don’t you see this Miss Sheffield down to the field and I’ll meet you there in half an hour?”
Kate opened her mouth to protest the arrangements that would leave Edwina alone in the viscount’s company, even for so short a time as a walk down to the field, but in the end she remained silent. There was no reasonable excuse she could give to prevent it, and she knew it.
Anthony caught her fishlike spluttering and quirked one corner of his mouth in the most obnoxious manner before he said, “I’m pleased to see you agree with me, Miss Sheffield.”
She just grumbled. If she’d formed words, they wouldn’t have been polite ones.
“Excellent,” Colin said. “We’ll see you then.”
And then he looped his arm through hers and led her away, leaving Anthony smirking behind them.
Colin and Kate walked about a quarter of a mile from the house to a somewhat uneven clearing bordered on one side by a lake.
“Home of the prodigal red ball, I presume?” Kate queried, motioning to the water.
Colin laughed and nodded. “It’s a pity, because we used to have equipment enough for eight players; Mother had insisted on our purchasing a set that could accommodate all of her children.”
Kate wasn’t certain whether to smile or frown. “Yours is a very close family, isn’t it?”
“The best,” Colin said simply, walking over to a nearby shed.
Kate trailed after him, tapping her hand idly against her thigh. “Do you know what time it is?” she called out.
He paused, pulled out his pocket watch, and flipped it open. “Ten minutes past three.”
“Thank you,” Kate replied, making a mental note of it. They’d probably left Anthony at five to three, and he’d promised to deliver Edwina to the Pall Mall field within thirty minutes, so they should be down at twenty-five past the hour.
Half three at the very latest. Kate was willing to be generous and allow for unavoidable delays. If the viscount had Edwina down by half three, she wouldn’t quibble.
Colin resumed his trek to the shed, Kate watching with interest as he wrenched open the door. “It sounds rusty,” she commented.
“It’s been a while since we’ve been out here to play,
“Really? If I had a house like Aubrey Hall, I would never go to London.”
Colin turned around, his hand still on the half-open door to the shed. “You’re a lot like Anthony, did you know that?”
Kate gasped. “Surely you’re joking.”
He shook his head, a strange little smile on his lips. “Perhaps it’s because you’re both the eldest. The Lord knows I’m thankful every day I wasn’t born in Anthony’s shoes.”
“What do you mean?”
Colin shrugged. “I simply wouldn’t want his responsibilities, that’s all. The title, the family, the fortune—it’s a great deal to fit on one man’s shoulders.”
Kate didn’t particularly want to hear how well the viscount had assumed the responsibilities of his title; she didn’t want to hear anything that might change her opinion of him, although she had to confess that she’d been impressed by the apparent sincerity of his apology earlier that afternoon. “What has this to do with Aubrey Hall?” she inquired.
Colin stared at her blankly for a moment, as if he’d forgotten that the conversation had started with her innocent comment about how lovely his country home was. “Nothing, I suppose,” he said finally. “And everything as well. Anthony loves it here.”
“But he spends all his time in London,” Kate said. “Doesn’t he?”
“I know.” Colin shrugged. “Odd, isn’t it?”
Kate had no reply, so she just watched as he pulled the door to the shed all the way open. “Here we are,” he said, pulling out a wheeled cart that had been specially constructed to fit eight mallets and wooden balls. “A bit musty, but none the worse for the wear.”
“Except for the loss of the red ball,” Kate said with a smile.
“I blame that entirely on Daphne,” Colin replied. “I blame everything on Daphne. It makes my life much easier.”
“I heard that!”
Kate turned to see an attractive young couple approaching. The man was devastatingly handsome, with dark, dark hair and light, light eyes. The woman could only be a Bridgerton, with the same chestnut hair as both Anthony and Colin. Not to mention the same bone structure and smile. Kate had heard that all the Bridgertons looked rather alike, but she’d never fully believed it until now.