Lord Love a Duke (28 page)

Juliet swayed slightly before gaining her
balance, frowning at the aches and pains steadily making themselves
known about her person. She took a few steps before her knees gave
way and she relied solely on the Duke to keep her upright. Jonas
motioned for Hanks to come take her arm as he mounted Paladin.

“Juliet, you are not able to ride so I will
ferry you back.” He motioned for Hanks to bring Juliet over and
lifted her to his lap as the groom boosted her feet from below. For
such a tall and shapely figure, Jonas was amazed that she was light
as a feather in his arms. He shifted slightly in the saddle and
brought her to rest across his legs, settling her against his
chest. She leaned her full weight on him, her trust of him
complete. Hanks grabbed Hera's reins and looped them around the
saddle horn of his own mount before giving a small salute and
departing for the stables. Jonas nudged his mount and he began a
slow trot, the fastest gait Jonas believed Juliet could
tolerate.

“Sweetheart, you must not sleep until the
doctor can appraise your condition. I am sorry but you need to talk
to me on the way home.”

She groaned but voiced her acceptance of his
words. “Of what shall we speak? Your note made mention that you
mean to learn all you can of me this week. Would you know my
favorite color or flower? Or mayhap I should recite the lines of my
favorite Italian opera.” She laughed lightly over her own jests and
settled more fully into his arms. While Jonas despised the reason
for her present condition, he had to admit he was only too happy to
have his arms wrapped tightly around her. She felt too good in his
arms.

“Yes, tell me your favorites. I will need to
know these things for our future matrimonial peace, will I not?” he
teased, squeezing her shoulders slightly. She felt his voice
reverberate in his chest beneath her ear and found she loved its
resonant rumble. She gave a small cough and he again pressed the
spirits to her lips. She took another long swallow then began to
answer.

“
I claim no favorite color
but do find I dislike orange as it is a bit harsh for my taste,
save in nature. My favorite flower is a daisy. It is so simple a
bloom. Its stems are strong while its petals are soft and dainty. I
appreciate that contrast. I love the smell of jasmine and
honeysuckle, especially when wafting around on a summer breeze. I
love the feel of sunlight when it warms my face, although please do
not tell my mother. She frets incessantly that I will freckle or
melt or fall victim to some other such malady if I venture
outside
sans chapeau
.” She quieted
for a moment and he nearly spoke before she resumed her list with a
small hiccup. “I love to be outside as often as weather permits,
walking and riding, or simply sitting. I have a terrible weakness
for shortbread and must limit myself mightily when it is near.” She
gave another pause before asking, “Pray tell me what is in that
flask. It burns my throat, and now I fear it has over-warmed my
whole body.” She gave another soft hiccup and he
chuckled.

“'I am unsure. Hanks most likely obtained
port, or possibly brandy,” he offered with a smile she could hear
in his voice if not see on his face.

“Saints and sinners! I hope 'tis not that
tainted batch we brewed at the fishing cabin,” she said with a
start, raising her head to look him in the eye. “You must stop and
check my teeth. Are they colored?” she asked, smiling widely, her
face so close he could smell the brandy and feel her warm breath.
He slowed Paladin to a walk and looked at her mouth with laughter.
“Oh, 'tis the port! How awful, is it not? Whatever shall I do with
violet teeth?” she wailed.

“Your teeth are just fine, Juliet, still
perfectly straight and white. It is not port but brandy Hanks
provided. But what is this about brewing a batch of tainted port?”
he quizzed.

She slapped a hand over her mouth then
slapped her other over his mouth for good measure, swaying slightly
in his lap. “I am not supposed to tell. What a peagoose I am,” she
giggled then blinked several times, as if surprised by the sound.
Jonas thought he had never heard her giggle and found it quite
endearing, especially considering she was most assuredly drunk.
“Ooh,” she continued, “you must not tell Miranda. She would be
furious to know I gave away our secret.“

He looked down into her slightly glazed eyes
and could not stop the laughter from bursting out to see her in her
cups simply by way of several swallows from a flask of brandy. He
considered that she was likely without food in her stomach and
usually did not imbibe strong spirits, both of which explained her
current state. Still, he was intrigued to know what other
interesting facts he might learn from her relaxed lips and found he
was not above taking advantage of her state of inebriation. “A
secret? I promise it is safe with me. I am a vault, my lady. A
veritable fortress of discretion. Do you have any other secrets you
wish to unburden yourself from this morning?”

Juliet seemed to
contemplate him seriously before suddenly leaning in to press a
warm kiss on his lips. He was caught by surprise and had no chance
to respond before she broke the kiss and leaned back slightly to
stare intently at him. “I rather like to kiss you. Melville's mouth
was disgusting and cold and hard. Your lips are so soft. And so
warm,” she added before leaning forward to kiss him again. His
anger briefly flared at her revelation that the Viscount had kissed
her at some point, but with the return of her lips he forgot all
else, taking control to prolong and deepen the kiss. He slanted his
mouth more fully across hers and swept his tongue gently across her
bottom lip. She gasped and pulled away to stare in that faintly
glazed yet penetrating way. “I definitely like that. We should do
that more often.
Je veux que tu m'embrasse tous les
jours
” she declared before snuggling back
down into his arms.

Jonas struggled to translate her French but
found he could not get beyond “I want you to . . . .” He nudged her
forehead slightly with his chin. “What did you say?”

“Hmm? When?” Juliet's brow scrunched in
thought. She dropped her gaze down to his lips and leaned in to
kiss him again, mimicking his earlier movements, licking his bottom
lip before nibbling it slightly. She broke off suddenly as
comprehension dawned across her face. “Oh! I said 'I want you to
kiss me every day,'” she explained, leaning her head back down to
rest on his chest.

“You can count on that, sweetheart,” he
chuckled as he resumed their journey back to the house, its
roofline now visible in the distance. He would take advantage of
the knowledge that she enjoyed his kisses at another time, but he
knew he had a pleased smile spread wide across his face.

“
I love how you call me
that,” she abruptly murmured so softly he had to strain to hear.
“
Baciami ancora e ancora
,”
she
whispered against his
mouth before pressing her lips to his. “Kiss me again and again,”
she sighed before he followed her orders with alacrity. Jonas
adored this free-spirited side of Juliet but could not countenance
taking advantage of her inebriated state despite his body clamoring
for more. He broke their kiss and she continued the conversation as
if nothing had broken her train of thought.

“And I do have a few secrets but most are of
no consequence. Two involve Miranda. One involves my parents. Three
involve my brothers but they are not so much secrets as ideas for
future blackmail.” She stopped her inventory to pull back and stare
at him again. “And two involve you,” she whispered before yawning
broadly.

Jonas was torn between wanting to discover
any precious information Juliet clung to secretly about him and the
need to respect her privacy while in her vulnerable condition.
Curiosity finally won out and he prodded her kindly. “Would you
care to share any of them with me, Juliet?” he asked quietly.

They crested the final
rise to begin the gentle sloping descent to the gardens and lawn
abutting the house. Jonas could see Hastings and Juliet's father,
the Marquis of Lansdowne, waiting in the gravel drive. Discounting
the circumstances, he had enjoyed this ride back with Juliet, and
had especially enjoyed having her nestled in his embrace. He
suddenly felt her arms encircle his waist as she hugged him
tightly. He was conscious of a sudden that the thin material of his
shirt provided scant barrier from the warmth radiating off Juliet.
He reflexively sat up straighter in his saddle and returned her
tight clasp. He felt a slight tug on his shirt and looked down into
her deep and dark velvety eyes, noticing flecks of metallic silver
glittering in them.
A man could willingly drown in those
depths
, he mused.

“
I will tell you my secrets since you have taken such tender
care of me, and because you kiss me so well,” she began, staring so
keenly that Jonas felt she must see into his very soul. He held his
breath in anticipation, praying it was a secret he wanted to hear.
“I find I am very much looking forward to marrying you,” she
confessed in a whisper. “My other secret is still too
precious.
Penso di essere
innamorato di te
.” Juliet
yawned again and burrowed back into his embrace, her arms firmly
wrapped around him, now stroking up and down his back.

“Tell me again, sweetheart, one more
time.”

“
Penso di
essere innamorata di te
,” she
murmured. “It is my most treasured secret.”

Jonas was warmed by the revelation of her promising
first secret and prayed he could remember the pronounciations well
enough to quiz Miranda about her second secret.
He repeated the italian phrase over and over
until reaching the gravel drive in front of the estate. A secret
worth discovering indeed.

Juliet greeted the morning following her
riding mishap with three realizations. First, she felt surprisingly
well save a tender cut on her head near her hairline and a sore
right hip, although her mouth felt uncommonly dry and her tongue
thick. Second, she had no idea what happened after Jonas came upon
her in the woods. She furrowed her brow in concentrated effort to
rouse her memories, which only succeeded in reminding her of her
painful cut. Lastly, she realized she was not alone in her bedroom
and swiveled her head to see Miranda seated at the window reading.
She made a move to sit up but was dismayed to find the room
spinning alarmingly. She gave a slight groan and sank back into her
pillows. Miranda sprang into action.

“Welcome back to the conscious world,” she
drawled humorously. “You caused quite the dustup yesterday, yet
managed to sleep through what I daresay are the most interesting
parts.” Miranda walked up to the bed and yanked the pull for
Juliet's maid. “Are you feeling more the thing? Are you willing to
suffer my help and company in exchange for a report of all the
daring deeds of yesterday?” She grabbed her friend's hand in a
gentle squeeze as she waited for Juliet's response.

Juliet swallowed painfully from her thick
tongue and dry throat. She gestured to her bedstand then pointed to
her lips. Miranda followed the mute instruction, pouring a generous
glass of water then holding it to Juliet's lips. She drank slowly
but steadily, relishing the tepid wetness as it bathed her parched
mouth and throat. She nodded her head when finished and Miranda set
the half-empty glass back on the stand.

“Much better,” Juliet rasped, her eyes
widening in shock as she heard her rough voice. “And I think I feel
fine although I discovered a scratch on my forehead and a soreness
to my hip upon wakening. I assume those came from my
less-than-glorious dismount from Hera?” she asked, her voice
strengthening with use. She reached for the water glass again but
Miranda beat her to it, pressing it back to Juliet's lips for
another long drink.

“Yes, the doctor said your cut required no
stitching but it is rather ugly and angry looking, I'm afraid.”
Miranda tsked with sympathy. “Do you remember all before your fall?
The confrontation with Melville and your mad ride across the
estate?”

Juliet frowned as a spark of anger lit up
her eyes. “I most certainly remember my discussion with that shirk.
Is he still here? Has he told anyone what happened?” Her eyes
darted around the room unseeingly, her thoughts racing. “Does my
family know what happened?”

“
Oh, we
all
know what happened,” chuckled Miranda. “Or at
least we know what Lady Margaret relayed. She could give no
specifics, stating she was not in the room at the time, but she
said she was sure her brother showed his perfidy. She made it
abundantly clear that her brother was in the wrong and offered no
excuses, only apologies. As for Melville, he fled quite
dramatically out of his chamber window whilst the search was on for
you. He managed to poach a horse from the unstaffed stable, so his
whereabouts are currently unknown. Your father dispatched several
men in search.”

Juliet sighed, her anger leaching away
slightly. “Lady Margaret has nothing for which to apologize, and I
regret she was left to feel any shame or remorse for her brother's
actions. I have always disliked Melville and tolerated his presence
for Lady Margaret and propriety's sake alone. He has become even
more odious of late with his blatant flattery in effort to woo my
dowry.” She chuckled lightly and squeezed Miranda's hand. “You
should have seen him yesterday, Randa. Had I been a spectator, I
would surely have been entertained by his fawning and preening
before his words abruptly devolved into insolence and insult. And
then the blighter kissed me! Had I held a pistol I would likely
have shot him--”