A Gentleman Never Tells(62)

Taking a long breath, she moistened her lips and said, “Did I ever tell you madness runs in my family?”

His eyes narrowed, his forehead wrinkled into a frown, and he leaned back as if to get a better look at her. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh, from my father’s side of the family. There have been many relatives, and going back for several generations.”

His gaze searched her face curiously. “No, I meant why did you bring it up now?”

Gabrielle moistened her lips again. Telling prevarications wasn’t as easy as she’d thought, and obviously what she’d always heard was true. If you tell one, you’ll most assuredly have to tell another to explain the first.

“I felt I needed to warn you before you thought further on marriage with me.”

His lips slowly eased into another smile, and she knew he didn’t believe her for a moment.

“Oh, I see,” he said. “I’ll keep that in mind to think on later, but for now, I’m going to kiss you.”

And he did.

His lips lowered to hers again, and this time he kissed her softly at first but then deeply and passionately. His lips moved from hers, across her cheek, and over her jawline, to the delicate spot behind her ear. He breathed in deeply. Her skin pebbled with delicious goose bumps. He kissed the lobe of her ear on his way down to the hollow of her throat, swirling his tongue in its shallow depths and lingering there to tease, taste, and moisten her skin. His hand gently massaged her breasts, and she moaned softly.

Gabrielle was hardly breathing. She felt as though her insides were twisting, folding, and floating into a wonderful and exciting knot of desire. His touch was thrilling. Through the fabric of her dress and stays, he palmed her breast, lifted it, and closed his fingers around it, squeezing gently yet firmly.

She didn’t understand why she had no inhibitions when she was in his arms. Shivers of delight bolted through her at breakneck speed at his touch. She was amazed at how much enjoyment she received from the caress of his hands. She couldn’t let her hands be still, either. She was eager to explore and enjoy everything about him, from the silky feel of his hair to the expensive fabric of his coat beneath her hands. She was succumbing to a brand new world that she had never experienced before.

Some of their kisses were soft and warm, while others were fierce and passionate. For the first time in her life, she knew what it was like to want a man to desire her, love her, and it was an exhilarating feeling. She boldly slid her tongue deep into his mouth again, and he muffled a groan.

“If I could remove your dress, I know your breast would fit perfectly into my hand,” he whispered passionately against her lips. “I would warm it with my mouth.”

He raised his head and looked into her eyes, as if considering the possibility of undressing her, and God help her, she was considering the possibility of letting him.

All of a sudden, his head jerked to the side and he said, “Did you hear that?”

“What?” she whispered from the fog of passion. “Is someone coming toward us?”

Then she heard it, the bark of a small dog. Gabrielle noticed Brutus had roused his head and was looking in the direction of the barking, too.

“That sounds like Prissy,” she said and shoved out of Lord Brentwood’s arms.





Twelve



The intelligent man finds almost everything ridiculous, the sensible man almost nothing.

—Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Brent jumped up and then helped Gabrielle rise. “I don’t know if it’s Prissy, but that is a small dog we hear. Let’s go.”

Gabrielle quickly turned to Brutus, who was struggling to rise. She pointed her finger at him and said, “Stay. Stay.”

“He won’t, you know,” Brent said and took hold of her hand.

She threw Brent a worried glance. “But he can’t run anymore. He can’t keep up.”

“No, but he can catch up with us, and he will. Let’s go.”

They took off toward the barking. After they passed the stand of trees that had been their shelter, in the distance they saw an old woman pushing a small cart that was covered by a lumpy canvas. They headed in her direction. The woman must have heard them running toward her, but she paid them no mind and kept walking.

As they approached her, Brent could see that her dark gray coat was soiled and worn. A frayed woolen scarf was wrapped around her head, covering her neck and chin. The dog, hidden by the canvas, continued to yelp and scratch, but she made no attempt to stop and see about it.