Chapter Five

T his was madness.

Danny unthreaded her fingers from his sable locks and still could not pull away. His hard stomach and wide torso stretched her hips and bruised her thighs. His hands dug into her bottom, pressing urgently and painfully even through her thick skirts. His tongue and lips were incessant and demanding and even then, Danny wanted more.

She clutched his shoulders and ran her tongue along the top of his mouth, tasting something smoky and complex. The essence of the man himself.

What he was doing here and why didn't matter. Not after she'd spent three years comparing him to every other man in her life and finding no one measured up. She'd convinced herself she'd fabricated the feel of his masculine hand on her neck and the heat of his tongue in her mouth, but she'd not exaggerated his skill or the passion he aroused.

In the fading light, in the middle of Uncle Jack's garden, she was one more fallen woman, another statue frozen in the moment and helpless to break from the demon responsible.

Nothing but a tease.

The thought didn't stop her, it egged her on. There was nothing teasing about his kisses or the grip he had on her hips. This was a man of decision and uncontestable action. And it spurned her wilder inhibitions like nothing else in life ever had.

His hold lessened and her body slid down his stomach and over the ridged protrusion in the front of his trousers. The sensation was exquisite.

She groaned and rubbed the aching muscles between her legs against the length of him until he hissed her name.

He tore his mouth from hers and rested his forehead against hers, the breath in his chest ragged. "You must not do that, love."

His passion thrilled her. "Or what?" she asked, just as breathless.

His teeth flashed in a grin or grimace—it was hard to tell.

"Or I will be forced to lay you down before your precious Athena and fuck you until you have no more use for gods and their justice."

She gasped, not from his blasphemous language, but from the flood of heat between her legs they elicited. Clenching her thighs to keep the wetness contained, his arousal pressed tight to her, bringing another wave of heat and want.

"Damn it, Daniella!" His words sounded painful. "Stop at once, or I will make good on my threat. A man can only bear so much perfection."

Her heart fluttered in her chest. "You think I'm perfect?"

He huffed a laugh, his arms still tight around her. "If no man before me has told you as much, the entire sex is dumb, lame, and blind."

That flutter turned into a rabble of wings. She'd been called many things. Over nine proposals, she'd been likened to fairies, goddesses, and Mother Nature herself. But no man, ever, had made her believe the words were true.

"Thank you."

The gratitude seemed to startle him. He chuckled again, a deep rumble she felt in her own chest.

"You're welcome, my lady."

His gaze held hers, the dark grey giving way to a softening of expression and changing the air between them. With his face uncovered, she could see how lovely and warm his eyes were.

He leaned in this time, his kiss unexpectedly soft, and the responding warmth in her chest sank into the very center of her heart.

She was in a great deal of trouble.

Footsteps scraping along the path to their right had his arms instantly setting her aside.

Desire giving way to panic, Danny gasped and fussed at her skirts. They'd had but a moment to catch their breaths and set themselves to rights before a man in brown gaiters drew short at the sight of them.

His gaze bounced from one to the other. Seeming unconcerned by the presence of the man next to her, he turned to her, recognition widening his eyes. "Lady Daniella. What a surprise."

She smiled, hoping her cheeks weren't as flushed as they felt. She willed her voice to remain steady. "Hello, Mr. Brinkley."

The man removed his cap and sketched a bow, revealing an ever-increasing number of grey hairs. "Pardon my manners, my lady. I saw your papa up at the house, but I had no idea you had come to call as well." Sincerity warmed his voice. "It was good of you to come and check on us."

Tears burned the back of her eyes, and guilt churned her fading desire to regret. "I stayed away too long."

She felt the object of her guilt shift beside her, but she focused her attention on Mr. Brinkley, a man she'd known since infancy. "How's your arm? Did it heal after that fall in Fellow Pleasure Park?"

Mr. Brinkley's unbridled smile did wonders for her conscience. "All healed." He rotated his shoulder to demonstrate. "That salve you used on it did wonders."

This time, Danny could not ignore the shifting wall of maleness beside her, not when the air around them seemed to drop twenty degrees at the movement.

She whirled on him, irritation and frustration making her blunt. "What?"

He didn't balk at her tone. His own was too quiet when he asked, "You put salve on his shoulder? Wouldn't that be difficult with the man's clothes on?"

Her brows scrunched. Was the man daft? "That's asinine. Of course he removed his shirt before I applied the medicine."

His voice pitched lower. "Is that right?"

Danny took in his clenched jaw and hard gaze, disbelief coloring her voice. "You're angry with me?" He couldn't have been serious. "That's ridiculous!"

"Let's leave my ridiculousness out of this, shall we? You admit that you rendered aid to this man without proper dress." He tilted his head, looking like an owl prepared to swoop down and gore his unsuspecting victim.

Good thing Danny smelled the rat.

"Where was this exactly?" he asked. "A crowded garden party? At an evening meal with the entire household staff present?"

She clamped her lips together, willing to give him the details when hell froze over.

"We were in the back shed," Mr. Brinkley said, confusion plain in his voice. The grateful smile he threw her way didn't help. "I'd fallen, as Lady Daniella said. A bad one. My shoulder was so sore, I barely managed to get into a sitting position. But she heard my shout and came running from the maze, used her own handkerchief to wipe the sweat from my face and helped me find a seat in the shed." He shook his head as he regarded her with that same warm smile. "I never saw a lady run like that." He turned now to the predator next to her, where his kindness was not so well received. "Ran all the way back to the house, strong-armed Cook into giving up a canister of her miracle herbs and rushed back. A right heroine."

"Yes." There was no mistaking the sarcasm in his voice. "A regular lady turned saint."

Danny's temper snapped. "That's rich coming from a man who claimed he was an American merchant. What are you supposed to be today? A baron? An earl?"

They stared at one another, ready for a lengthy stalemate.

"He's a duke, actually," Mr. Brinkley said.

Danny startled. A quick glance to confirm he was serious, and she spun around to look at the duke in his lying face. Was that how he'd gotten onto the estate? "Since when are you a duke?"

He sighed, the sound tired and full of emotion Danny swore was resignation.

"I don't know. Does the title pass as soon as the paperwork is filed or upon stepping foot on the premises?" He ran a hand over his face. "If the latter, then this morning. A decidedly long morning."

Mr. Brinkley—clearly unaware of the tension—rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry about running off, Your Grace. I'll be sure to keep you in my sights when I show you the rest."

Show him the rest? "Mr. Brinkley, you can't seriously be catering to this man's whims?"

Mr. Brinkley nodded, seemingly without taking offense. "Who else would show His Grace the grounds?"

Danny felt the blood drain from her face. He'd become a duke this morning? A bad feeling wormed its way through her stomach. Whatever outrageous thought her imagination was conjuring, it couldn't be true. When Papa's solicitor had said the new duke had been disbelieving, surely, he couldn't have meant...

At a shout originating from somewhere outside the maze, Mr. Brinkley winced and asked the man beside her. "Apologies, Your Grace, again. But if I may be excused? There's a fallen tree in the yard that has the stablemaster hot around the gills." He nodded to her. "Lady Daniella knows the maze better than any of us, and seeing as you two are already well acquainted—"

"We're not acquainted." Danny couldn't believe it. There was no way Uncle Jack's precious home and grounds had anything to do with the man beside her. She wouldn't believe it.

Mr. Brinkley blinked. He glanced between the two of them, seeming to write his own scenario of them stumbling upon one another in the maze, both alarmed at the intrusion and unable to continue without proper names. He straightened his shoulders and seemed to remember his exalted position as a duke's servant as he said with great formality, "Then if I may? Your Grace, may I present Lady Daniella Deime, daughter of the Earl of Bromley." He turned to Danny.

She held her breath and prayed.

"Lady Daniella, may I present to you Percival Cole, Duke of Grandfellow."

*

"No," she said.

Mr. Brinkley followed Percy's suit and turned to watch Lady Daniella clench and unclench her fists at her sides.

"No," she repeated.

How beautiful she looked when enraged.

"I'm afraid so," Percy said. When the lady said nothing more, he addressed Mr. Brinkley. "Do what you will. Mustn't keep the gills waiting. We'll continue the tour another time."

"Aye, Your Grace." Mr. Brinkley tipped his hat to Lady Daniella, who was decidedly nowhere in the present mind to respond.

Percy sighed. "Might as well go," he said to the other man. "The lady seems to have taken the news hard. I'll wait until she has recouped and then we shall return to the house."

Mr. Brinkley hesitated and fiddled with his cap, his gaze darting back to Lady Daniella. "Can I trust your intentions, sir—er, Your Grace? I've known Lady Daniella since she was weaned. Loved her like a daughter." The last was said with a pointed look. "We all do around here."

Percy appreciated the man's guts—and his fatherly tone—glad he didn't need to disembowel the man for being in love with Lady Daniella. He really liked these boots. "You have my word. The lady will be safe with me."

His last statement seemed to at last shake said lady from her stupor.

"Safe? Safe!" She advanced on him, not seeming to notice how Mr. Brinkley resisted a smile before making his escape into the maze.

Traitor.

Percy faced her head on and raised his hand, understanding the situation perfectly now. "On my honor."

The face she made, he'd once seen that same expression on a sailor who'd lost his boot in the beak of a giant squid.

"If you had any honor," she spat, "you'd relinquish your false claim on Jack's title and give the rightful duke his place."

Wouldn't they all prefer such a scenario?

"Awful as it is," he said, "the claim is real, and I cannot pass it off, no matter how many times I threaten that peacock-vested solicitor."

She'd really loved ‘Uncle Jack.' He could hear it in her tone. Guess the old man couldn't have been all bad.

"I'm sorry," he said and he meant it. "Clearly, he was dear to you."

Her lip quivered, and he didn't imagine the glassy quality in her eyes. But Lady Daniella wouldn't stoop so low as to cry and let a cad like him off the hook by bungling a comforting gesture.

Instead, she made a graceful turn and walked from the place without a word, leaving him to awkwardly follow her to the rear exit of the maze and onto a fully furnished and gently vined veranda complete with a man in a dark suit who sat drinking tea as if he were a cushion that had always been there.

The man glanced up at their approach and smiled. "There you are, child. Come and sit down before I eat your share of biscuits."

Lady Daniella kissed the man on the cheek, her smile sadly tempered. "I can't believe there are any left."

The same brown eyes and dark brows, the same smile lines around a wide mouth... This must have been her father. One glance her way and Percy knew a single word out of line, and he'd feel that goddess's justice she was so fond of.

Finally noticing him, Lord Bromley's gaze widened. He shot to his feet and stumbled towards Percy, arm outstretched. "Jack..." The man stopped and collected himself with a clearing of his throat. "Apologies." He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture tired. "You look so much like—"

"Like Uncle Jack," Percy finished. So, the old man had been a looker.

For the man to have gained the respect of these people, it was clear Percy hadn't gotten the entire picture from his late father about their family's estrangement, or lineage.

Lord Bromley's gaze shifted uncomfortably at his silence. "I must beg your pardon for taking tea. We did not mean to intrude."

Percy waved away his concern. Truth was, he could use help navigating how best to conduct himself now he was here, and how best to avoid more calls. He stuck out his hand, getting a feeling the Earl of Bromley wasn't one for ceremony. "I hear you were close as brothers. It would mean a great deal if we could sit down some time, and you'd tell me about him?"

In his peripherals, Percy saw Lady Daniella relax, and he was surprised his words were for more than her relief.

"I'd be honored." Lord Bromley nodded to Lady Daniella. "I see you've met my daughter already."

Percy waited for her to elaborate on what details she wished to confess about their ‘meeting,' but she remained silent, ever the cruel creature he was coming to adore.

Good God! Adore? The warm afternoon was curdling his brain.

"Yes," he managed. "She saved me from a fate of wandering my life away in the maze."

The man looked at his daughter and smiled. "That's my girl. Always saving people."

Her returning smile gentled her words so the oblivious wouldn't feel their bite. "Only the foolish ones."

There was that tone he loved, proper but barbed. ‘Foolish' may not have been far off. Good thing estates like these were far between. Only the closest of neighbors would be trouble to avoid, and what was the chance of Bromley's country seat being next door?

He glanced at Lady Daniella, her every skirt rustle and fleeting smile like an assault to his system he couldn't help but feel like a blow to the chest. Having her proximally close would be far too great a temptation. What cruel fate she stood so close—their positions in society at last acceptable for acquaintance, and yet she remained so far above him, he'd never be fit to be seen at her feet, no matter his new title.

And he was the biggest fool for dwelling on it. As the introductions had now been properly made, he need only hold out the next quarter hour or so until she left and he'd never cross paths with her again.

Might as well make the best of the situation at hand. He indicated they should all sit and asked, "Perhaps if it is not so much trouble, you could return in the next few weeks, and we could discuss the estate? I'm sure you have a great deal of insight?"

Lord Bromley looked to his daughter, pride swelling his chest. "No trouble at all, Your Grace. I could come as early as tomorrow. 'Tis less than a ten-minute walk through the woods."

Percy's hand froze, reaching for the tastiest biscuits he'd ever seen, the golden honey spread on top taking on a sickly yellow tint. "Ten minutes?" His gaze shot to Lady Daniella, whose expression matched her deadpan tone.

"We're neighbors, Your Grace."

Dear God, no.