Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

" I heard you also enjoy books on botany," Lord Livingston commented with a smile.

"I do. It is one of my interests," Catherine confirmed, grateful they had finally found common interests. "I particularly love evergreens. The science of them is so…"

"Mysterious?" he supplied.

"Indeed." She laughed.

"I have a few palm seedlings in my London residence that I will be transplanting soon. Would you like to see them?" he offered. "My gardener is unavailable, so I would have to do it myself. I do hope you're not one to squirm at the sight of dirt. Gardening is a messy job."

Her eyes widened both in surprise that he would enjoy doing manual work and the prospect of seeing the seedlings.

"Not at all, My Lord. I would love to," she answered with a broad smile that startled him. "I'm just surprised that you wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty."

He visibly preened at her admiration. "I am a simple man. When I'm not in town for the Season, I get to do all the planting I want at my country estate."

"That is really nice to hear."

"Do you garden yourself?" he inquired.

"No, but I am usually present when new roses are transplanted."

And it wasn't for lack of interest. Her mother would have thrown a fit if she had gotten any of her dresses dirty.

Not that it stopped her. A number of times, she had bribed the gardener to let her handle some of the less dirty work, but she would never let Lord Livingston know that in case he was a man who didn't appreciate ladies who liked manual work.

"Oh, I will have to remedy that." He laughed. "Perhaps I'll invite you to my country estate so you can be away from the watchful eyes of the ton."

He winked at her, and she laughed.

"I still think my chaperone would have a lot to say about me playing in the dirt, My Lord."

He laughed again, slapping his thigh, and she straightened up, feeling proud that she had caused the most proper of men to break character.

"You are an absolute delight, Miss Burlow," he commented.

"Thank you, My Lord." She curtsied to him.

"I… It is my pleasure," he stammered, his ears turning red. "Would you… would you like to dance, Miss Burlow?"

Catherine placed her hand in his and nodded once. Although she'd said she wanted a quiet match, she realized she might not mind a man she could be cordial with.

Lord Livingston looked like a man she could actually enjoy being married to, but there was still a lot she needed to know about him.

"I would love to." She smiled, handing him her dance card.

"I—"

"Lord Livingston, Miss Burlow," Richard greeted, approaching them.

Catherine stepped back in surprise, dropping Lord Livingston's hand as though she had been caught doing something bad.

"Your Grace." She curtsied, surprised that she remembered her manners despite her initial shock. "Good evening."

Richard wasn't supposed to directly speak to her at events, especially not when she was with another man she was trying to get to court her.

"Pardon my intrusion," he offered. He, too, looked surprised that he had come over to them and seemed at a loss for how to remedy the situation. "I need to speak with you urgently, Miss Burlow."

"Is anything the matter?" she asked, suddenly worried. "Has something happened to Emmy?"

"No. Nothing's happened. I?—"

"Pardon me, Your Grace," Lord Livingston interjected, looking between the two of them. "I believe we can have our dance some other time, Miss Burlow. If you will excuse me."

"Lord Living…"

He was gone before she could stop him, and she let out a deep sigh, turning to Richard with a glare.

"You shouldn't have come here."

"I shouldn't have," he admitted, causing her to frown.

"Then why did you?" Catherine asked, curious to know why, as he should have been most happy that she was conversing with a gentleman.

"I came to congratulate you," Richard answered, his voice rising an octave. "It seems my lessons paid off. You were enjoying yourself. You made prim and proper Lord Livingston laugh."

"I was until you came here." She pouted.

However, she would never admit to him that her eyes were on him even while she was talking with Lord Livingston, and although she could picture things turning out well between them, she couldn't help but wonder if she would perhaps be making a mistake.

She found herself starting to crave more than the life she'd thought she wanted, and now she couldn't even choose if it was placed right in front of her.

"You're confident in your flirting, aren't you?" He laughed. "Why don't we put that to the test?"

Richard's blue eyes danced with mischief that should have warned her away from him, but somehow it had her leaning closer to hear what he was suggesting. It really was unlike her to ignore the warning bells in her head, but Richard made it so easy for her to do it.

He'd made her see and experience new things, and now she wanted to see just what she was capable of.

"What kind of test?"

He held a hand out to her and smiled challengingly. "Dance with me."

"Dance with you?"

"Yes." He nodded, taking the card that was tied to her wrist, his finger subtly brushing against her skin. "I need to see how well you can charm a man while dancing."

"But I already promised Lord Livingston a dance," she argued. "It wouldn't be proper."

"He will understand," he stated, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, you didn't promise him this dance. Or are you scared to admit that you lack charm?"

She rolled her eyes at his childish attempt to bait her. "I can charm any other man, but…"

"Yes?"

She didn't want to admit that it would be difficult trying to charm him because she feared it would be her who was charmed in the end. He was an endlessly charming man if the glares she was getting from the ladies he'd danced with were anything to go by.

"It might be weird flirting with you," she answered, avoiding his eyes.

"Weird? Why? We've done this many times before." He pouted.

A laugh almost escaped her lips, but she knew well to push it down. He was trying to make her comfortable enough to go through with the challenge.

"You're like my brother," she added.

He clutched his heart and groaned in pain. "There are no more terrible words than the ones you've just spoken." He shook his head. "So you only see me as a brother, do you?"

No.

"Yes," she answered. "As such, I can't sufficiently charm you."

"Humor me, then. I'll be the judge of that." He winked. "And who knows, maybe I could charm you into seeing me as more than a brother."

She scoffed and said nothing, proud of herself that she'd convinced him of her lie. There was nothing brotherly about the way she studied his full lips, wondering if it were so wrong to imagine how soft they were.

When the musicians struck a familiar tune, Richard took her hand and led her to the middle of the ballroom for their first dance, which was a fast reel she had no trouble keeping up with. She looked at him once and found that he too had no trouble keeping up with the dance.

"I didn't know you could dance this well, Your Grace," she commented.

"There are a lot of skills you don't know I possess, Miss Burlow," He winked at her.

"Would you be so kind as to tell me about some of them, Your Grace?" She winked back, playing his game.

He gave her a lopsided smile and leaned close to her ear. "It would be my utmost pleasure to show you instead."

She reddened as the double entendre sank in, and she slapped his arm to indicate he'd scandalized her.

"That kind of talk could get us in trouble."

"What kind of talk?" he asked innocently. "I'm only implying that I'm very good with my hands and lips on occasion."

She laughed then, loud and long, earning her a few stares. "You are very naughty."

"And you are a good student," he praised. "I am impressed by how quickly you've absorbed my teachings."

"You are a good teacher."

He stood a little straighter at her praise. "And I must admit you do look ravishing in that dress. I have good taste in clothes."

She looked down at her dress and smiled. "Indeed." She did a little spin, showing off the dress. "I would have never picked anything so daring before now. Mother was livid when she saw me in it."

"But you still wore it."

"Yes. I wanted to see your reaction when you saw me in it."

"Indeed?"

She nodded, reddening at his surprise. She wondered how he'd take her admission that she'd worn the dress for him.

His reaction had given her the confidence she hadn't known she'd needed when she'd stepped into the ball. The slight widening of his eyes and then the broad smile that followed had made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the room.

Catherine had wondered briefly what the future would look like if she were to marry Richard. He definitely promised nights that would never be cold and laughter for days, but she couldn't delude herself into thinking that she could hope to keep his attention for the rest of their lives.

He was a man used to the attention of the most beautiful women. What hope did she have to keep his attention?

"And was my reaction sufficient?" he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She nodded. "Quite."

He spun her again and then pulled her close to him. "I must admit again that you have sufficiently charmed me, Miss Burlow." He smiled. "If I were any other man, I would be asking for your hand."

But he wasn't any other man, so he would not be asking for it. The thought would have stung if he were on her rapidly growing list of prospects.

The music came to a close, and she clapped like everyone else, waiting for her heart rate to slow.

"Meet me in the gardens," Richard whispered in her ear suddenly.

His voice was barely audible above the din, but she heard him, and before she could turn around or ask why, he was gone.

She looked around to see if anyone had noticed them, and seeing no one, she stepped off the makeshift dance floor, wondering if it would be too risky to follow him.

Why she was even considering it, she didn't know.

It wasn't as though she was unaware of what happened in secret meetings, and considering everything that had already happened between her and Richard, she knew she had to put a stop to it. But the intrigue of doing something so utterly scandalous for the first time in her life had her crossing the double doors into the gardens.

He found her before she had to go far, and saying nothing, he led her deeper into the darkness.

Catherine wondered how often he'd done this, for he was so sure-footed as he moved. She prayed with each step she took that she didn't fall and make a fool of herself.

When he finally stopped, the gravity of their situation dawned on her. They were well and truly alone, and if he wanted to, he could ravish her thoroughly and no one would be the wiser.

"Why are we here, Richard?" she asked warily, wrapping her arms around her middle to fend off the chill in the night air. "If you wanted to speak, we could have done so in the ballroom."

She couldn't see much of his face in the dim moonlight, but she heard him chuckle and step closer to her.

"Tell me, Miss Burlow," he purred, his voice dangerously low. "Would you rather I kiss you here or in front of everyone?"

"I… I'm sorry, what?" she stammered.

He brought her outside to kiss her. Why?

"Before you get too worried, I only want to see if you're also lacking in that area," he added, disappointing her.

"Oh."

"It wouldn't do for you to be a sloppy kisser now that you have a serious suitor."

She glared at him even though he couldn't see it in the darkness. "And you would be the judge of that?" she sneered.

"Of course," he answered smugly. "There are enough testimonies to support my legitimacy."

"Out of the mouths of two or three witnesses."

"I like that you know your scripture."

She rolled her eyes. "It truly can't be that difficult to kiss someone, so there's really no need to?—"

His lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence, and she was glad that it was dark around them. Her eyes were wide open in shock, but when his lips moved over hers, they fluttered shut, and a moan escaped her lips.

Richard kissed like he was claiming her mouth, and his muscled arms, which she'd dreamed of touching several times, wrapped around her and pulled her up for better access. Her fingers dug into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling softly, and he groaned into her mouth.

Pride surged through her that she was able to coax such a guttural sound from him even though he'd kissed and been with far more experienced women than her.

His teeth nipped her bottom lip, and she gasped in a mix of pain and pleasure. He wasn't her first kiss, but he was the first to kiss her so thoroughly that she didn't know how to breathe.

Finally, he slowed his kiss to playful nips, and then he pulled away from her, composing himself.

She ran a hand over her hair and dress, and feeling nothing was out of place, she suddenly didn't know what to do with herself.

"Richard, I think we should head back. They might?—"

"We'll go back in a minute," he said, voice sounding strained.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, suddenly worried. "Are you hurt?"

"Not exactly, no." He laughed softly. "You just surprised me, that's all."

"How?"

"You kiss well," he stated plainly, as if she wouldn't be ruined if they were overheard. "I am almost tempted to ask if this wasn't your first kiss."

She blushed hotly and was grateful for the darkness. "I assume that means I don't need more lessons."

He stepped closer to her, and her heart beat a little faster with anticipation. Her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

"You make a very tempting point, Miss Burlow," he whispered, but he stepped back after barely brushing her lips with his. "Come. It's best we head back now."

She nodded and accepted his proffered hand, her other hand reaching up to rest above her racing heart.

Once inside the ballroom, her eyes subconsciously tracked his movements, noting every graceful slide of his body, and when he winked at her from across the room, she knew she had well and truly fallen for him.

Damn.

She moved into a hidden alcove, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She already knew that Richard in no way fit in the future she wanted for herself, and allowing him to continue to lead her down their current path would only set her up for unnecessary heartache.

If she wanted to live the quiet life she'd always wanted, she would have to end whatever this was between them before it was too late.