The Duke of Defiance (The Untouchables #5)(57)

He began to grow irritated. Yes, she’d made her rejection of him quite clear. “Because of that, I didn’t think anything would happen. But I stand by what I said: I don’t regret it.” He peered at her closely. “Is there some other reason you declined my proposal?”

“I don’t need one. I should think the reason I provided for my refusal would be more than enough.”

It would—he needed an heir, and she supposedly couldn’t give him one. However, he now wondered if it was more than that. He knew she’d been unhappy in her marriage, that her husband had been the worst sort of ass. Perhaps she didn’t see any point to marriage, especially if she couldn’t have children.

His head was beginning to ache. Women were incredibly complicated. “Yes, your rejection was more than enough. I truly didn’t expect to seduce you, nor did I plan to. I’m not a glutton for punishment.”

Her features softened. “I never meant to injure you. My apologies.”

“Would you like to return to the way things were?” He feared he knew the answer to that. It seemed that she did regret what had happened.

She leaned toward him, and his breath caught once more. “I do not.”

His pulse picked up speed, and he stared at her mouth. “I see. Well that’s good to know.” If frustrating, given their current location. He wanted to take her into his arms. “I would kiss you now, if I could.”

Her lips parted, and her chest rose and fell more rapidly as her breathing quickened. “I would like that. Tell me.”

What was she asking? What he would do? “I’d come closer and press you back onto the blanket. Then I’d put my mouth on yours, and I’d slide my tongue inside.”

“I’d meet you. And I’d strip your cravat away.” She gave him a sultry look that told him she knew just how much he would like that.

Her words fired his lust. His cock began to throb. “I would lift your skirts—”

“Knighton!” A loud feminine voice interrupted their mutual verbal seduction. Bran turned his head and saw Lady Dunn and a younger woman, her companion, he thought, coming toward them.

Bran swore silently. He needed to get up. And demonstrate his full arousal to all and sundry. He glanced toward Jo, who looked suddenly anxious. He took her hand and helped her stand. “If you could just position yourself slightly in front of me, that would be helpful.” He dipped his gaze down toward his groin, and her eyes widened.

She nodded infinitesimally and clasped his hand while he stood. Then he pulled her to her feet.

“Good afternoon, Lady Dunn,” Bran said.

“Good afternoon, how delightful to see you here.” She transferred her gaze to Jo. “And you, Mrs. Shaw. Is Lady Evie somewhere about?” She looked around.

“No, we encountered Lady Rebecca, and she went home with her,” Bran said. “Mrs. Shaw and I were just about to pack up the remainder of our picnic.”

“How charming.” Lady Dunn gave him a knowing stare sparkling with approval. “Will I see you at the Andover ball this evening?”

He couldn’t be sure but thought it was probably one of the many invitations he’d ignored. “Ah, I wasn’t planning on it.”

Lady Dunn clucked her tongue. “My dear boy, you must get out more. You needn’t stay for a long while, just show your face. And allow me to introduce you to some people—it will make me so happy.” She looked at him expectantly, her gaze hopeful.

He wanted to refuse but couldn’t. “I’ll find you there.”

She grinned. “Excellent. I’m so glad we ran into you this afternoon. See you tonight.” She turned to Jo. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Shaw.”

“Good afternoon, Lady Dunn.” Jo waited until Lady Dunn and her companion had turned about before bending down to pick up the blanket and quickly folding it before stashing it in the basket. She handed it to Bran. “Would you mind taking this back to the house? I’m going to walk straight to Nora’s.”

Disappointment that he wouldn’t get to spend the walk with her dampened his mood, but he took the basket. “Of course. I’ll see you later.”

She blinked, as if confused by that statement. “You have a ball to attend. I expect you’ll return rather late, and I will likely be asleep.”

Hell and damnation, why had he agreed to go to the damn thing? To please his godmother. “I’ll endeavor to return at a reasonable hour.”

She shrugged. “If you’re so inclined. See you at dinner.” She turned, and he watched her circuit the reservoir.

What had happened? She’d flirted with him—no, teased him—before Lady Dunn’s untimely arrival, and now it was as if she were coated in frost. Well, he’d warm her up later.

He could scarcely wait.



Sleep continued to evade Jo as she flipped to her back once more and stared at the canopy overhead. She was jealous. Jealous of all the people at the stupid Andover ball tonight who got to spend time with Bran. Of all the women he’d dance with.

Do you really think he’ll dance?

She rose up on her elbow and punched her pillow with a grunt. He might not dance, but he was still moving about in a world she had cut herself off from when she’d agreed to become his governess. It wasn’t lost on her that Lady Dunn hadn’t asked if she was attending the ball tonight.