Too Wilde to Wed (The Wildes of Lindow Castle, #2)(41)

The boat drifted from the shore, the rope’s length stopping the vessel under a fountain of leafy green willow spears that hung so thick and low that they brushed the surface of the water.

Tucked under a length of oiled canvas were two pillows, allowing a person to slip off the seat and comfortably sit or even recline in the middle of the flat-bottomed boat. She put down the pillows, kicking off her uncomfortable shoes, peeling down her thick black stockings and tucking them under the gunwale at the end of the boat.

Finally, she pulled up her skirts and relaxed, propping her crossed ankles on the rear seat. She watched the shifting green leaves and the twinkling bits of sunlight that filtered through, until slowly her jealousy and sorrow eased.

She didn’t like herself when she got mired in sadness.

North would be comforted by his family and have no need for toast and honey. That was an excellent thing, no matter how much her heart tried to say otherwise. She was happy to have been able to help him in any way, in view of the damage she’d done to his reputation. And perhaps, to his heart as well.

Twenty quiet minutes of thought told her that she would never be able to find another position as a governess. No respectable family would hire a governess with a bastard child, nephew or not. What elderly lady would want a companion who had a child?

Fear burned in her chest, but she pushed it away. She wasn’t destitute. She could ask Lady Knowe for help and receive it, with no questions asked.

Or North.

She could ask him for help. They had become friends, of a sort, in the last few days.

She was thinking that over when a thrashing noise broke the silence. Someone tugged on the rope. Hastily she sat up, curled her legs to the side, and made certain that her bare toes were covered.

“Leonidas!” she called. “I’m here.”

The boat broke free of the willow fountain, and Diana looked up with a smile on her face.

To be met with a scowl.

“Leonidas?”

“North!” she squeaked.

“You have an assignation with my brother?” North’s mouth was a furious, thin line.

“No,” Diana stated. “I do not have an assignation with your brother.”

“What in the bloody hell are you doing here, then? Shouldn’t you be in the nursery?”

“Of course.” That was the first time he made her feel like the governess. She snatched up her shoes and stockings and hopped onto the rear seat. She refused to meet his eyes as she jumped to shore.

She’d never done that before, flinging herself recklessly into the air. North moved smoothly sideways to catch her, his hands landing on her upper arms. “Let me go,” she ordered. She couldn’t back up, as she’d be in the lake, but she wriggled sideways.

For a moment she thought North might shake her. Had she ever wished to see his face angry? She refused to let him think her intimidated. “Let me go,” she stated again, head high, “so that I may return to the nursery. I can assure you that upper servants are allowed a break of several hours each day.”

His response was pithy and blasphemous.

“That’s enough!” she said fiercely. “Let me go, Lord Roland. You have no right to speak to me this way. You are not acting like a gentleman!”

“I’m not a bloody gentleman,” North growled. But he let her go.

She moved sideways, and then, because she was angry at him, curtsied. “Good afternoon, Lord Roland.” Her tone was scathing.

Large hands jerked her close to him. “Don’t ever call me that.”

Before she could respond, North’s mouth closed on hers. She was too startled to speak—but her body made a decision for her.

It wasn’t his open, rough kiss, as much as the way his arms went around her, as if they would protect her. As if she could stay in his embrace and he would keep away the world and its cruelties.

“Brawny” wasn’t a word that could be applied to nobility . . . but the arms that encircled her were thickly muscled. Even when they were betrothed and she didn’t want to be a duchess, she had secretly craved North’s touch.

Not that he’d ever touched her like this. They’d kissed once. But never like this.

His grip tightened until she melted into his arms. The force of his kiss tilted her head back; he devoured her mouth, desire and anger speaking to her as clearly as if he’d shouted at her.

For the first time, the very first time, she kissed him back, up on her toes, hands curling around broad shoulders. She lost her head and kissed him back, a raw sound coming from her throat as her fingers slid down and spread over his chest, loving the powerful muscles under her touch.

He was kissing her so hard that her mind blurred and she felt engulfed in his heat and strength. She had never imagined a kiss could be so raw. So real.

When they both needed to breathe, he nipped her lip, his gaze direct and smoldering. She closed her eyes and snuggled against him, which made him groan, a hungry sound that weakened her knees. Her eyelids swept closed as he captured her lips again, tongue exploring her mouth as if she was . . .

As if she was his. Holding her as if she was his.

Until he wasn’t.





Chapter Ten




“What were you doing in that boat?” North demanded, noticing the hoarse note in his own voice with incredulity.