Authors: Diane Farr
He extended his hand in invitation.
“C
ome down off that horse, Lady
Cynthia
,
”
he said, a purr in his voice.
“A
nd I will help you with your hat.
”
She gave a soft little laugh and placed her hand in his. He pulled her off the mare and she slid, deliciously, down the length of his body. She landed, as they both had known she would, in his arms. The ravine protected them from the wind and gave the illusion of privacy
—
and the horses wouldn
’
t tell. So he kissed her, taking his time and savoring the precious, stolen moment. And she, bless her, relaxed against his arms and kissed him back, with a wanton disregard for the possibility that they might be discovered.
“I
think I
’
ll pull a few more pins out of your hair,
”
he murmured eventually.
“D
on
’
t you dare.
”
She didn
’
t seem very worried. She nuzzled his chin, eyes closed.
“I’
d love to know how it looks unbound. Even more, how it feels.
”
He played with a few escaped tresses, trying to imagine what it would be like to run his hands through that mass of warm, sun-shot silk.
She opened her eyes then and leaned languidly back, studying his face with sleepy amusement.
“I
t feels like baby hair, if you must know. Very soft.
Too soft!
We haven
’
t been able to do anything about the fine texture, unfortunately, and it will never have the natural curl that yours has, but Mama and I have worked diligently to improve whatever we could. I brush it one hundred strokes every night.
”
Now, there was a picture to make a man
’
s mouth water. Derek growled and held her tighter.
“S
omeday,
”
he vowed,
“I
want to take over that task.
”
A shadow seemed to cross her face at his words. He hastened to change the subject before she could remind him that they had no future together.
“I
imagine it
’
s hard work, being one of London
’
s accredited beauties.
”
That made her laugh, as he had hoped it would.
“Y
ou
’
ve no idea,
”
she assured him, with mock earnestness.
“T
he constant application of Denmark lotion alone is exh
austing. And the expense! S
hocking. I am forced to consume it by the quart.
”
He pretended to study her features.
“Y
ou will never convince me,
”
he said softly,
“
that you owe this face to Denmark lotion.
”
He bent to kiss her again, but she tossed her head, laughing.
“I
f it
’
s not the Denmark lotion, it must be the strawberries.
”
“S
trawberries?
”
“C
rushed,
”
she said primly,
“
and applied to the face, to brighten the complexion. With cucumber slices laid on the eyelids to prevent puffiness. Oh, and oil of cacao for the hands
—
why, you could feed an army on the wasted foodstuffs I have slathered on my skin.
”
“L
et me see if it worked,
”
Derek suggested, tugging on her gloves. They were buttoned securely at her wrists or he would have had them off of her before she could object. The buttons delayed him sufficiently to let her laugh and exclaim, pulling her hands back, and a brief tussle ensued. At the end of it her hands were pinned behind her back and Derek and
Cynthia
were pressed ti
ghtly together, chest to chest.
Her eyes w
ere wide with laughter and apprehension
.
“W
hat are you doing?
”
“T
eaching you something worth knowing.
”
He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her.
“S
ometimes, my lady, it
’
s fun to lose a tug-of-war.
”
She started to make a laughing protest, but he stifled it with a kiss. It was gratifying to witness how easily she was distracted. Within seconds, her body softened against his as she gave herself up to pleasure. She was a fast learner, however, on how to win a tussle. He kissed her so hungrily that he dropped his guard, relaxing his grip on her hands, and she immediately pulled neatly out of his grasp. He lifted his face from hers, growling in mock anger, and she laughed and swatted at him until he captured her hands
again. Her playfulness warmed his heart; he suspected that it was a side of her few others had seen. But he was soon forced to admit that it was time he fulfilled his promise to help her with her hat.
He retrieved it from the bush, grumbling comically about the prickles he endured during this exercise, and presented the hat to her with a flourish. She turned it about in her hands, examining it, lips pursed.
“H
m. I don
’
t suppose you have a mirror.
”
“S
orry, no. Shall I act as lady
’
s maid?
”
She eyed him with misgiving.
“E
ntrust you with my hat pins? You must think me a simpleton.
”
In the end, however, she had to trust him with them. Derek drove the wicked-looking hat pins through her coiled hair with great relish.
Cynthia
then tried, in vain, to tuck her hair back up under the reanchored hat. It was too small and fashionable to serve any useful purpose and she had to give it up, letting the escaped strands continue to blow free. Derek assured her that she looked charming
—
and although she pulled a face and laughed at this assertion, she truly did.
And then it was time to go. Derek laced his fingers and prepared to accept her boot, to toss her back up into the saddle. It was
Cynthia
who hesitated. She tugged insistently at his arm and he straightened, gladly, to take her back in his arms for one more kiss.
When the kiss ended she sighed, a mournful sound that tugged on his heartstrings.
“D
on
’
t be sad,
Cynthia
,
”
he whispered.
“T
his will not be our last kiss. I promise you that.
”
She looked up at him, sorrow in her eyes.
“I
wish I could be as certain of that as you are.
”
“T
hat
’
s easily accomplished.
”
He lifted her wrist to his mouth and planted a kiss on the tiny space of skin between her glove and her sleeve. She shivered at the contact, closing her eyes as if in pain.
“L
et me speak to your mother,
”
he urged softly.
“L
et me, sweetheart. Today.
”
A tiny crease appeared between her brows. She shook her head.
“N
o.
”
“
Cynthia
—”
“N
o!
”
She opened her eyes.
“I
need time, Derek. Please.
”
“F
or what?
”
Exasperation sharpened his voice.
“T
here
’
s nothing to wait for. We love each other. That can
’
t be changed; it
’
s too late. At some point, my darling heart, your parents are going to have to face it
—
as we have done. You can
’
t keep what
’
s between us a secret.
”
She did not immediately reply. Her gaze seemed to be fastened on his cravat, as if she were afraid to meet his eyes. She clutched the lapels of his coat, a gesture that simultaneously clung to him and held him at bay. When she answered him her voice wavered slightly, and the color drained from her cheeks as she spoke.
“D
erek, I don
’
t know what to do.
”
Her expression was anguished.
“I
would give you an answer if I could. I can
’
t. And until I can, there is no point in your approaching Mama. You must accept that. It
is
progress, you know
—
of a sort.
”
She tried to smile.
“O
nly yesterday, I was quite certain th
at I would never marry you. Now
... I don
’
t know.
”
His mouth turned down with disgust.
“I
am tempted,
”
he muttered,
“
to make the decision for you.
”
She gave a shaky little laugh.
“E
veryone wants to make my decisions for me, it seems.
”
“Y
es,
”
he said wryly.
“T
hat is what stops me. I
’
ve a strong aversion to replacing your parents
’
tyranny with my own.
”
Cynthia
smiled with relief.
“T
hank you. I know how difficult this must be for you. It
’
s torture for me, as well. I suppose you will say I have the power to end it,
”
she added hastily, seeing the spark of irony in his eyes.
“B
ut I dare not rush things. I am not accustomed to making my own decisions. And I can
’
t afford to make the wrong one.
”
There was a hint of grimness in his expression.
“Y
ou realize, I hope, that I am unlikely to take
‘
no
’
for an answer.
”
She looked drawn and pale.
“W
hat do you mean?
”
He cupped her chin in his fingers and held her eyes with his.
“Y
ou have already tried to deny me,
Cynthia
,
”
he reminded her. His voice was soft, but merciless.
“Y
ou have b
ade me farewell more than once—
yet here we are. You cannot banish me, my love, because you cannot convince me that you truly want me to go. I will acknowledge defeat on the day you wed another man, and not one day sooner.
”
Her expression was a strange mixture of fear and exultation.
“A
t this moment,
”
she whispered,
“I
am glad of it. Whatever the future may hold, I will be glad I had these few days with you.
”
He frowned.
“Y
ou will have a lifetime with me.
”
Sadness flitted across her face. She pulled herself out of his arms and forced an unconvincing little smile.
“
I hope you are right.
”
“N
ever doubt it,
”
said Derek steadily, but the words suddenly sounded hollow.
They had to go back at some point, so there was nothing necessarily sinister about
Cynthia
’
s abrupt withdrawal. Still, it bothered him. He had the distinct impression that she had brought the conversation to a close because she could not bear to disappoint him
—
but the sadness in her face told him that she felt she had merely postponed, not ruled out, disappointing him. Which meant that, despite everything, she anticipated handing him some very bad news one day soon.
He helped her onto her horse and she disposed her skirts while he swung back up onto Max
’
s broad back.
“N
ow take off that Friday face, my lady, or Ellsworth will think I have abused you,
”
he said, with mock sternness. This sally won him a wan smile, but
Cynthia
’
s gaiety had vanished.