Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

H azel held out her arms, allowing August to help her dress, though help wasn't required. But she enjoyed the feel of his broad, calloused palms rubbing over her skin. Very unlike what she'd imagined a duke's hands to feel like. The small, open-mouthed kisses he pressed to her neck and shoulders were lovely too.

She felt absolutely adored.

They walked up the path to Maria's house, fingers laced, speaking of Pensford and the children they'd once been. How August had escaped the ducal estate and his tutors to look for frogs, climb trees, and wade through the stream running through Pensford, all things his uncle had forbidden him to do. He admitted to being terrible, but Hazel thought, listening to him, that August had only been lonely. She did not mention Quatre Bras, Everhurst, or the scar dissecting his back. If August meant to tell her one day, he would. Nor did they discuss future assignations. Which gave more credence to her theory that August would betroth himself to Coraline or some other young lady soon.

The thought bothered Hazel more than a little bit.

When Maria's gardens came into view, August's steps slowed until they halted entirely. He pulled her off the path into a flowering shrub, wrapping his arms around her waist. One hand came up to press her cheek to his chest, toying with her hair which still lay in a tangle about her shoulders.

"What is it?" she whispered, thinking August had spotted a servant in the garden. Or perhaps the other guests had returned.

He cupped her face in his big hands, thumb raising her chin. The green and blue of his eyes melded together, the sun sparking on the tiny bits of gold floating in their depths. August was glorious, as any duke should be. But that wasn't what drew Hazel, nor what had had her rolling about in the sand with him. There was no more dislike or bitterness, only the soft ache of the connection between them.

"I wanted to kiss you again."

The warmth of his mouth covered hers with such… longing , Hazel grabbed the edge of his ruined coat. Her heart thrummed unevenly in her chest, refusing to find an appropriate rhythm, just as it had the entire day. The idea of leaving him, never touching or speaking to August again, filled Hazel with panic.

Ridiculous . This was merely a dalliance, her mind demanded.

Hazel had stopped contemplating marriage years ago. Her wealth was a blessing, as it gave her the means to be independent, but also a curse. She would never be wanted for herself. Or at least, that had been the case thus far. But what if it were August who was her husband? Someone who knew her far better than she expected. There was no denying the growing attachment between them, no matter how it had been forged.

Don't be silly.

August, former childhood tormentor and libertine, was a duke . Even if he was struck by some madness—or excess of feeling —she was too far beneath him socially to be an acceptable duchess. A union between them wasn't possible. Dukes were expected to wed for status, pedigree, and property, which made Lady Coraline a better choice.

She knew this. Yet Hazel could not stop the yearning of her own heart.

Once his mouth left hers, August simply held her, seeming as reluctant as Hazel to end their contact. Pressing an ear once more to his chest, she sighed at the strong thump of his heart, grateful that some sword-wielding enemy soldier hadn't stopped it from beating.

"Do you believe in fate, Your Grace?" she finally said.

"August," he gently reminded her. "Not usually." His hold on her tightened. "What about you, Stork?"

"I still object to being addressed in such a way."

"It is an endearment." August pressed a kiss to her temple. "One only I will use."

She smiled against his coat, feeling the warmth spread out from her heart. "What about irony?"

That earned her a deep rumble from his chest. "Oh, yes. I do believe in irony." He stroked her hair, smoothing away the tangles. "I…" he paused, as if considering what he should say.

"I must release you, though I am loath to do so. Time for me to become ducal, and you are to return to Miss Dartmont." Brushing his thumb along her cheek, August pretended to glower at her. "You'll treat me with the utmost respect," he stated in a lofty tone.

"Please do not smite me with your ducalness, Your Grace." Hazel stood on tiptoe and kissed him once more.

"I should take you over my knee right now," he murmured in a husky tone along the curve of her ear. "You deserve my hand." One broad palm grabbed at her bottom. "Your punishment could be endless and varied."

"Are you tempting me to impertinence, Your Grace?" The very idea of the punishment August might mete out had an ache returning between her thighs. "I need little incentive."

"Naughty girl," he growled, his eyes shining like the bottom of the ocean. "I don't have time to properly subject you to my displeasure." His hips ground into her. "At present."

"You don't want Lady Leek to catch us rolling about in the grass? The duke and the draper's daughter," she said, half-joking.

August looked away. "No," he said softly. "I do not."

The smile on her lips faded. If he meant to offer for Coraline, of course he wouldn't want a scandal erupting around a dalliance he'd had at a house party.

"I didn't mean to be flippant, Your Grace."

"You aren't." August turned back to her, features once more composed. He twirled a strand of her hair around his thumb before giving her a gentle nudge. "Go, before I lose all resolve, Miss Dartmont."

She stretched her hand across the warm muscles of his chest. "Thank you for your unnecessary rescue today, Your Grace."

"The pleasure was mine, I assure you."

Bobbing politely, Hazel attempted to pull her hand free from his, surprised when August held her fast. Emotion deepened the color of his eyes for a moment before a half-smile crossed his mouth and he released her.

More than a dalliance , her heart beat out.

Hazel whistled as she made her way through the gardens, her body still humming from August's earlier attentions.

There was a burst of noise from the front of Maria's home. The sound of carriages. Hazel quickened her steps. Slipping through the side door the servants generally used, she quietly took the back stairs, not stopping until she arrived at her room and shut the door.

Hazel took a deep breath, trying to stamp out the nearly delirious feeling of happiness.

"Terrible troll. I miss you already."