A Wedding In Springtime(57)

“Sorry. My mistake. You are so beautiful I cannot seem to resist. Yet my intentions are less than honorable, so I must forbear!”

Genie’s breath came fast and her cheeks were flushed. It only added to her beauty. “So one must only kiss if one’s intentions are honorable?”

“In present company, it is a must I fear.”

“Then I should give you this.” In a flash, Genie wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her lips to his. Fire shot through his body and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight.

She broke the kiss but did not pull away from his embrace. “My intentions are honorable,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes.

He could no longer resist. He kissed her. Not a chaste kiss one bestows upon a virginal debutante, but a hungry kiss of a man enflamed with lust. Her lips parted easily and he deepened the kiss, unable to stop himself from tasting the pleasures that had plagued his thoughts since he first kissed her under the tree. His hands roamed up and down her back until he cupped her backside and pressed her to him, knowing she must feel the full length of his regard for her.

“Whatcha doing?” asked the small voice of Jem.

“Oh!” exclaimed Genie and jumped away from Grant.

“Go on back to the parlor, Jem,” commanded Grant, biting back a curse for the person who dared separate him from his lady.

“Do I still get a trifle?”

“If you can get there now and stay there,” demanded Grant.

A rustling in the brush was the only evidence Jem had heeded the command.

“I fear we have been gone a while,” said Genie, her cheeks flushed. “How will we explain our absence?”

Grant took several deep breaths to cool his ardor. He needed to get himself under control to be seen in public. “Fortunately, I am not as attached to the truth as no doubt I should be. Leave it to me.”

Grant walked beside Genie back to Bremerton house, unsure how he felt. He was supposed to make young things feel confused and love struck, not the other way around. He had never been kissed by a society miss before. There had been young ladies who attempted to kiss him but only in an effort to get “caught” and thereby force a proposal. Genie had kissed him because she wanted him, not his name or his fortune.

When they entered Lady Bremerton’s sitting room, it was clear their absence had been noted, but before anyone could speak, Grant took the situation in hand.

“There you are!” Grant said to Marchford in an accusatory tone. “Where have you been? We have looked everywhere for you.”

“You were looking for us?” asked Marchford. “We have been looking for you! You have been missed for at least a half hour.”

“But this cannot be. We saw that you and Lady Louisa were no longer in the garden and went into the lane to look for you. We even took a stroll up and down the street, but we could never find you.”

“Ah, so that is where you were,” sighed Lady Bremerton in relief. “I see that there is no harm done, but next time, Genie, do tell me if you plan to leave the garden.”

“Yes, Aunt Cora,” said Genie obediently.

The gentlemen left shortly after, leaving Genie time to think upon her adventure with Mr. Grant. What could she have been thinking to so accost him? It may not be a graveyard at midnight, but she feared she was in very real danger of seduction.





Eighteen





“Too late for Tatt’s,” grumbled Marchford once he and Grant left Bremerton house. “You want to tell me where you were all this time?”

“Found an urchin and gave it a bath.”

Marchford gave his friend a glare. “If you do not wish to tell me, just say so. I don’t want to tax your intellect by devising such a fantasy.”

“Was that an insult on my limited intellectual prowess and my tenuous grasp on reality?” laughed Grant. “How did things go with Louisa?”

“Wretched. If she spoke more than five times in the entire visit, I should be surprised, and now I have to play host to them for dinner.”

“I do not envy you, my friend.”

“Where can I drop you?” asked Marchford, climbing onto his curricle.

Grant put his hand on the door of the curricle but paused and stepped back. “Not going far. Think I’ll walk.”

Marchford turned and yanked the reins so that the horses pranced and whinnied in protest. “Did you say you were going to walk?”