Chapter 5

Five

C onstantine lay in bed for hours reliving the feel of Lord Gulliver's lips on hers. The way her pulse had thrummed, and her blood had heated. Never in a million years would she have believed a kiss to be… so marvelous… so decadent… so earth-shattering.

She sighed. Their kisses were all of those things and more. She grappled for a proper description before latching onto one that summed it up perfectly… Addicting.

Yes, that was the right turn of phrase. She was addicted to his kisses. Even now, she lay awake, craving his lips on hers. With a couple of kisses, the Marquess had reduced her to a fiend.

Pressing her fingertips to her lips, she reveled in the memories. She wanted to kiss him again, and again, and a million more times thereafter. It was magical, swoon-worthy, and delectably intimate.

She wondered what it would be like to spend her life in his arms. Then her stomach clenched. That particular line of thought was a fool's errand, for she had no interest in marrying him. She could never be his wife.

He was a peer. The one sort of man she could never have—not in the forever kind of way. Constantine would do well to remember it.

And a lady could not go about kissing a man she had no interest in marrying. Even if his kisses made her blood warm and knees quake.

The mere thought had her reliving the kiss again. The strength of his arms around her, and the intimate slide of their tongues. And the strange, pleasant pooling of heat in her abdomen and the way she had initiated the whole experience rolled through her memory.

How had she dared? Constantine pressed her head back against her pillow. She'd acted the perfect wanton, tossing herself at Lord Gulliver as she had. And yet, she felt no shame. Only the strong desire to repeat her actions.

Where had she gathered such cheek? Such audacity? True, Constantine had a miserable time following the rules of proper ladies, but this was altogether different. She had never acted with such disregard before.

What was it about the Marquess that inspired such impudence and boldness in her? And why did she revel in the new feelings as she did? He made her want to be wicked, and she wasn't the least bit embarrassed by the discovery.

In fact, she looked forward to her next opportunity. She may not be able towed the man, but she could collect memories to take with her for the rest of her days.

The following morning, Constantine awoke with the previous evening's musings fresh in her mind and a smile tugging at her lips. She hummed as she entered the breakfast room, then shot Lady Celia a wide grin before joining her at the table.

"My, but you seem happy today." Celia placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. "Is Lord Gulliver to blame?" She asked with a bemused twinkle in her big blue eyes.

"Perhaps," Constantine said as she turned toward the buffet, loaded with silver platters. She scooped eggs onto her plate before adding meat and toast, then taking a seat at the table across from Celia.

Celia sipped from her teacup, her curious gaze on Constantine. When she set the cup aside, she said, "Do, tell me what happened."

Constantine feigned ignorance as she poked her fork into her pile of eggs. "Whatever do you mean?"

"With Lord Gulliver," Celia said, her eyes brightening a fraction. "You can trust me."

Constantine considered whether she should confide in Lady Celia. The girl was considerably younger than she and had not been out in society long. She may be shocked at what Constantine had done.

But then, Constantine had never had a real friend. Certainly, not another lady, and she was keen to have one now. Friends shared their secrets and held each other's confidences. Didn't they?

She studied Celia, noting the mischief in her sapphire gaze and playful grin. As Constantine swallowed her bite of eggs, she recalled what Lady Celia had said to her the prior evening. ‘I, for one, think Lord Gulliver would make a splendid match. Perhaps you can bring him to heel.'

Of course, Constantine had no wish to do so, and that he had no desire for such an outcome made him even more appealing.

"Do you intend to make me guess?" Celia pursed her lips, her gaze turning speculative. She angled her head a notch, studying Constantine, then her eyes rounded with triumph. "You are in love."

"I assure you I am not," Constantine protested.

Celia tapped her nails on the edge of the table. "Hum…" She met Constantine's gaze, her grin blooming into a full smile. "Then you are very much in like."

Constantine beamed back at her. "I believe it is so."

"Did he kiss you?"

"Celia!"

The girl did not look the least bit abashed as she continued, "I can tell that he likes you. Lord Gulliver is like family, you know, and one can tell when their family member is besotted."

Constantine laughed. "I shall take your word on that score."

"See that you do," Celia said, waving her fork in Constantine's direction. "I think the two of you suit perfectly." She poked her fork into a piece of sausage. "I dohope you marry." Celia looked at Constantine. "If so, you would be like a sister to me." Her face lit with mirth at the words.

"Let us not get ahead of ourselves," Constantine cautioned, for she well knew the girl's hopes would never come to fruition. "Regardless, I hope that we can always be friends," she added.

"Without question, we can." Celia shook her head, baffled. "One does not end a friendship over such trivial matters."

Constantine's heart sunk. Perhaps not, but neither did they excuse betrayals. Would Celia still wish to maintain a friendship if Constantine revealed the full truth?

She swallowed back her unease and said, "What if I told you I have no intentions of marrying Lord Gulliver?"

Celia's head jerked up. "Then I would support you as any friend should." She gave a half-smile. "What are your intentions?"

Constantine bit her cheek as she considered Celia's question. She did not have an answer. She enjoyed Lord Gulliver and she most certainlywished to kiss him again, but then what? She sighed. "I honestly don't know."

Celia's grin broadened, her gaze turning mischievous again. "Then I suppose you will have to wait and see what destiny has in store."

Constantine laughed. "Let us hope whatever that may be is pleasant."

"Without a doubt, it shall be." Celia's attention moved to the door, and she lowered her voice. "Destiny has arrived."

Constantine turned her head to see who had entered, though she scarcely needed to see Lord Gulliver to know it was he. The moment he'd entered, she'd felt his presence, and Celia's words only confirmed what she already knew. Odd that she should sense his nearness.

Lord Gulliver joined the table, as the Dowager Duchess, Auntie, and the Duke of Selkirk entered the breakfast room. Constantine shared a few conspiratorial glances with Celia as the others readied their plates and joined them.

After everyone took their seats, Lord Gulliver addressed the Duke. "I thought I might take a ride after breaking my fast. Care to join me?"

His Grace shook his head. "I'm afraid the Duchess has plans for me." He glanced down the length of the table. "Perhaps the ladies would like to join you?"

"Indeed." Lord Gulliver drawled, his voice lacking amusement.

Auntie turned her attention to him and said, "Lady Constantine is an avid horsewoman. She'd be pleased to join you, I'm sure." Auntie pinned Constantine with her meddlesome, but warm gaze. "Wouldn't you, dear?"

Constantine's attention moved to Lord Gulliver. "I wouldn't want to impose."

He gave a rakish grin that caused her toes to curl and said, "On the contrary, I'd welcome your company."

"Then I shall be happy to join you." She turned to Celia. "Do you ride?"

Celia nodded. "I do. However, I am busy this morning. I already agreed to accompany some of the other guests into town."

"Will anyone else be joining us?" Constantine asked Lord Gulliver.

He lifted his glass with nonchalance and said, "I am afraid not."

Constantine blushed at his triumphant appearance. If she did not know better, she'd say that the charmer was quite pleased with the arrangement.