Chapter Eighteen

E ffie could not believe she had thrown the contest. She hadn't meant to do so. She wanted to win. To show him she could. Yet some hidden part of her was tempted by what she would gain—if she lost to him. Her curiosity won out.

She decided to take the kiss.

At the last moment, she had slowed Marigold ever so slightly. Then she had thought better of it and tried to push the horse. But she had waited too late, and the duke had sailed across the finish line.

"A valiant effort, Lady Effie," he told her.

She noted he used her title with her given name again. Twice, he had not. Waterbury had called her Effie, her name sounding different coming from his lips than any other man's. Part of her fought the growing attraction she felt for him, while the other half was jubilant that she would be allowed to experience a kiss.

"Thank you, Your Grace." She cleared her throat, a habit she was not fond of but seemed to keep doing around him. "When would you like to claim your reward?"

Just saying those words to him caused her insides to flutter madly.

He grew thoughtful. "We will need time. And privacy."

"Time? It did not take ten seconds for you to kiss before," she pointed out.

His eyes darkened. "Ah, but that was one kind of kiss. This one is entirely different. It takes much longer than ten seconds."

"Longer?" she asked, doubt in her voice.

"I would say we need at least ten minutes."

"For a kiss ? Surely, you jest, Waterbury."

But the intensity of his gaze told her he was perfectly serious.

"I know tonight's affair is another ball."

"We cannot kiss on the terrace for ten minutes, Your Grace," she huffed. "Why, a large crowd would gather to watch—and then we would be forced to wed."

"Would that be such a bad thing, Effie?"

Oh, dear. He was back to calling her Effie. That was not a good sign.

"It is Lady Effie," she said primly. "You seem to have forgotten that."

"After we have kissed the way I wish, we will be on more intimate terms. Perhaps Effie would be more appropriate."

"No," she said firmly. "I am sorry I lost the race to you. I will pay my debt, but then kissing between us will be over and done."

"If you say so," he said airily.

She wanted to slap the smug look from his handsome face. Wait. When had she begun to think of him as handsome? He was. There was no doubt about that. Yet she had not truly noticed the fine figure he cut. His midnight hair and green eyes were an interesting combination. His cheekbones were sharp. His lips sensual. She tried to imagine kissing this man for ten minutes. No, she would wind up giggling. That was probably best. He would break the contact between them and be a gentleman about it, assuring her she had paid her debt.

Or would he?"

"Why don't you offer to show me the gardens at Seaton's townhouse? Do you know anything about them? Or perhaps his conservatory. Does he have one here in town?"

"He does," she said hesitantly. "You wish to see it?"

He smiled, looking as sleek as a cat with those bold, green eyes. "If it offers us the privacy we require."

"Come to tea then tomorrow, Your Grace. Bring it up in the conversation and ask to see it. I will volunteer to show it to you."

His fingers captured her chin. Leaning over, he softly brushed a brief kiss against her lips before releasing her. Quickly, she glanced about them. No one in sight.

"I will be happy to come to tea, Effie," he said, his eyes laughing as she bristled at hearing her name again.

"You'd better hope I do not box your ears when we are alone, Waterbury," she warned.

"I would like to see you try," he said softly. Taking up his reins again, he said, "I should see you back to your brother's residence."

They returned to James' mews and Effie politely said, "Thank you for taking me riding this morning, Your Grace."

"Thank you for accompanying me, my lady. We will see you at Gunter's this afternoon."

He tipped his hat to her and rode away, leaving Effie in the dark as to his motives.

*

Malcolm stood in his drawing room, observing the gentlemen who had come to call upon Ada. She had danced every set at last night's ball and was growing in popularity. While she had promised him she would be open to getting to know other gentlemen, he knew Lord Ashmore was the one who held her heart.

He liked Ashmore, even more so after yesterday. The viscount had ridden with them to Gunter's and had been open and charming. Mama had chosen not to go, and Malcolm was glad of it. By the time they arrived at Gunter's, a lightness filled him. He would claim that kiss from Effie this afternoon. Hopefully, that would move their courtship along in the right direction.

They had been the only party in Gunter's, and Lord Hopewell had told him Seaton had rented out the entire place so that it would only be their large party present. They had started out in tables divided by male and female, but as the next few hours continued, there had been constant movement between tables and wonderful conversations to be had. He had sat with all of Effie's sisters and cousins at one point, liking them all immensely, as well as getting to know the men of the family better. Lord Edgethorne had asked Malcolm to accompany him to Gentleman Jack's, while Lord Bridgewater had offered to take him to Angelo's Fencing Academy.

It was as if his whole life he'd had a weight pressing upon him, so heavy he could not breathe. Now, being around Effie and her family, the weight had lifted. For the first time, Malcolm enjoyed the company of others and believed they felt the same way about him.

After they returned from Gunter's, he had asked Lord Ashmore to come to his study for a brandy and talk. The viscount had eagerly accepted his invitation, and the two men spoke about their country estates. Ashmore's was in Suffolk, near Ipswich. He had two younger brothers, both in university, while his mother had remained in the country this Season, preferring it to town. Ashmore had lost his father about eighteen months ago, and he shared with Malcolm that while his parents had an arranged marriage, they quickly grew to love one another. He doubted his mother would attend another Season again, for she had no plans to ever wed again. Lady Ashmore had encouraged her oldest son to do so, however, and the viscount shared how he wanted the kind of marriage his parents had had.

Left unsaid was that Lord Ashmore wished for his countess to be Ada.

Malcolm almost told the younger man to go ahead and offer for Ada, but he knew the viscount would do so in his own time.

For himself, Malcolm hoped after he and Effie kissed that she would realize they were meant to be together. It still amazed him how he already loved her and hoped her head would not be turned by another gentleman, for he could see himself with no one but her.

"She has drawn quite the number of suitors," Mama said, joining him. "Frankly, it surprises me. Ada was always such a quiet thing."

"That has been the benefit of her relationship with Lady Effie," he said. "It is obvious she has brought out the best in our Ada. All these gentlemen are seeing Ada at her best."

"I do not see Viscount Ashmore here today," Mama noted.

"That is because Ada has asked him to tea today. He will be among the last group who calls upon her and will simply stay once the others leave. As for myself, I am leaving now."

"Calls of your own to make?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, not elaborating on his plans. "I will see you this evening."

Malcolm had asked that his carriage be readied instead of walking to the Seaton townhouse. He was hoping he might convince Effie to drive with him through Hyde Park. It wouldn't hurt for the two of them to be seen together and their names coupled by the gossips.

On the way, he thought about the guidelines drawn up for him. He had yet to think of an unusual gift to give her, but he already had the place he wished to take her. This morning, Malcolm had been among the men present when Tattersall's opened. During the Season, the establishment was opened on Mondays and Thursdays. He had sought out Mr. Tattersall himself, asking that he be allowed to return tomorrow morning to look at horses. Being a duke, his request was instantly granted, and he told the proprietor that he would also be bringing the Duke of Seaton's sister with him, explaining that Lady Effie was quite knowledgeable about horses and he valued her opinion in purchasing them. Tattersall's did not allow females, yet Malcolm knew an exception would be made simply because he held a ducal title—and he was right.

He thought Effie would enjoy going to the famed place, seeing its horseflesh, and experiencing something other women never had. Since she also knew so much about horses, he was happy to listen to her suggestions regarding those they saw.

His carriage pulled up at the Seaton residence, and he climbed from the vehicle, noting several other carriages parked along the square.

Powell admitted him and led Malcolm to the drawing room, where he counted half a dozen suitors present. Effie spied him and acknowledged him with a smile. He moved to where Mrs. Andrews sat with her husband, not seeing either the duke or duchess in the room.

Greeting the pair, Mrs. Andrews asked if he wished to sit with them, and he complied.

"Effie said you were coming to tea this afternoon, Your Grace," Mrs. Andrews said.

He noted how the couple sat closely together, their hands joined. At first, this kind of open affection had bothered him, having never seen it before, but now he realized how it was a natural extension of a couple's love. He only hoped that he and Effie might one day be as open as her mother and stepfather were.

"You are becoming quite a regular around here," the captain said.

"If Lady Effie did not want me here, I would not keeping turning up," he said. "I am interested in her. A great deal," he told the couple.

The captain nodded knowingly. "I thought so. "She likes you—or she would have chased you away by now. Effie is simply being kind to all these other fellows."

"When they are gone, I will always be the one who stays," he declared. "You know what is in my heart, Captain. I only hope I can convey that to your daughter."

They spoke for a few more minutes, and then the other gentlemen departed, leaving him as the only guest. By now, the duke and duchess had arrived, the duke holding a child in each arm.

"They wanted to see their grandparents," Seaton said, passing Ida to Mrs. Andrews and George to the captain.

Effie came to him, and Malcolm rose as she said, "It is good of you to join us for tea today, Your Grace."

"Thank you for your invitation, my lady," he responded. "Where is your aunt? We had a lively conversation at Gunter's yesterday. I was looking forward to seeing her again."

"Aunt Matty is with a friend today, waiting with her until her grandchild is born."

"Lady Mathilda is generous with her time," he said. "She was telling me about how much she travels now, going from household to household to see all her nieces and their babes."

"Aunt Matty never married. She has dedicated her life to the Strong family. Mama has said she could not have raised the six of us girls without Aunt Matty by her side."

After a few minutes, the nursery governess appeared and claimed the two Strong children. Malcolm noticed Effie's cat entered the room as the three left and began wandering about the drawing room.

"I must apologize for being so churlish in regard to your cat. I know she means a great deal to you."

"Thank you," she said, leaning down, her hand fisted.

The golden cat casually strolled over to her mistress and rubbed her face against Effie's fist several times, beginning to purr loudly. She stroked the cat the length of her body and then sat up.

Then, startling him, the cat leaped, landing in Malcolm's lap. He froze, not knowing what to do as the creature balanced on his legs.

"Oh, this is interesting," Effie said, amusement in her voice. "Daffy doesn't often take to a someone. She must be curious about you, Your Grace."

"What . . . do I do?"

"Scratch between her ears," she recommended, so he did so.

The cat's purr intensified and he kept scratching, noticing the contented look on the animal's face.

Chuckling, she said, "I think you have made a new friend, Your Grace. Whether you wanted to or not."

He stroked the cat, feeling her silky coat. After doing that several times, the cat curled up in his lap.

"My, Your Grace," the duchess exclaimed. "Daffy does not take to others outside our family." Her eyes sparkled. "She must see something in you that appeals to her."

"I have never owned a cat. Or any kind of pet," he said, caressing the sleek fur.

Mrs. Andrews laughed. "Effie has had nothing but pets at Shadowcrest. They have been her constant companions, and she has found homes for many of the strays and injured animals she has fostered. Shadowcrest is something of a menagerie."

"I have often said I prefer the company of animals to people," Effie told him. "They are open with their affection and do not judge. Animals are always excited to see you and never speak ill of you."

Two maids rolled in the teacart, and the duchess poured out for the group.

"Should I put Daffy back on the ground?" Malcolm asked Effie.

"She looks so comfortable where she is. I would not disturb her."

He spent the entire teatime holding his saucer in his hand instead of resting it upon his knee. Malcolm mentioned how he had learned more about Lord Ashmore and his estate, hoping to bring the conversation around to what he and Effie had previously arranged as their excuse to leave the others.

"Lord Ashmore spoke highly of his conservatory, saying it was one of his favorite places. While I have one at Waterside, it is a bit neglected. Might you have a conservatory at Shadowcrest—or even here, Your Grace?"

"Both places," the duke replied. "But I know nothing about it or what grows there."

"I could show you the conservatory here if you wish, Your Grace," Effie volunteered seamlessly. "You could see how it compares to yours and the one Lord Ashmore spoke of."

"Yes, I would like that. You must show it to me sometime."

"Why not now?" she asked breezily. "We could do so after tea if you are free to stay longer."

"I would be happy to do so, my lady," he replied, his heart racing, knowing he would soon be alone with her.

And kissing her.

Ten minutes later, he had set aside saucer and cat, and he and Effie were headed to the conservatory.

"You played that smoothly," he told her. "As an actress who knew her lines."

"I am not going to renege on my debt," she said. "I wish to see it paid in full and be done with it."

Malcolm stopped, taking her elbow and turning her so she faced him.

"I do not want you to think of this as some chore, Effie," he chided. "An obligation you need to get out of the way."

Those Strong eyes searched his own, as if she sought unspoken answers.

"I will not rush things," she said. "I will allow you to give me the kiss that you wish."

"Thank you," he said, releasing her arm, and they continued to their destination.

The conservatory was at the rear of the house, and the moment he opened its door for her, he could feel the warmth and humidity. They entered and he closed it. She led him deep into the room until they were surrounded by what seemed like an inside garden.

"I do not come here often," she told him. "It can be much too humid for me. Instead, I prefer strolling the gardens outside. "This was the only place I could think of where no servants were likely to be, though. Even the gardens outside have gardeners working in them at this time of day."

He gazed about and said, "Point out a few of the different blooms to me then. In case anyone thinks to ask of what I saw while we were here."

She did so, elaborating on three or four, and he memorized what she said. Malcolm did not think anyone would ask, especially because others knew of his great interest in her. He assumed that the men in the family, who loved their wives a great deal, had shared with them not only his interest in Effie but the guidelines he was trying to follow in order to win her over. He hoped he had their approval because he knew that would be important to Effie. He was astute enough to realize that if they did wed, he would not only be marrying her. He would be marrying the entire family, as well.

Effie finished speaking and licked her lips nervously, causing a frisson of desire to race through him. He planned to lick that full, bottom lip soon enough.

"I suppose we should get on with it now," she said, a bit breathlessly.

"Effie, this is not some unpleasant task which you are trying to rush through. A kiss is to be savored. Unhurried."

She fidgeted, wringing her hands. "Well, you did say it might take up to ten minutes. We should not be gone much longer than that. Go ahead then. Start."

Malcolm was going to take his time. He started by clasping her hands and bringing them to his lips, brushing a kiss upon her knuckles. She shivered, already pleasing him.

Releasing her hands, he framed her face, studying her a moment. Her pupils were large, her breathing already erratic.

"I will stop if you ask," he said softly. "I only hope you do not."

She gave him a quizzical look, and he leaned in, deciding to start by kissing the crease between her brows. He could tell the place he started surprised her.

Good.

He wanted to surprise her. Delight her. Make her want more.

Lifting his head, he smiled. "Shall we begin?"