Nick suffered through the victory luncheon, and every time his attention drifted toward Violet, he steeled himself and took a drink of wine. As a result, he was feeling far more relaxed—and pleasant—than he had been at the archery field.

Which wasn’t to say he’d forgotten why his mood had soured. He blamed the time he’d spent with the toxic Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law. But he couldn’t ignore Violet’s role. Rather, his reaction to Violet.

Simon was seated next to her, which hadn’t helped his disposition. His friend couldn’t be romantically interested in her, could he? If so, Nick might have to say something. He couldn’t bear seeing them together.

But what if it made them happy? Would he want to stop that?

He reached for another drink of wine and was disappointed to find that his glass was empty. Thankfully, the luncheon was nearly finished.

Afterward, the guests would disperse, and Nick would retreat to his room. Mayhap he’d stay there through dinner too.

As they stood, his hostess, who’d been seated to his left, leaned close. “The younger set is meeting in the ballroom for some games this afternoon. You simply must attend.” Mrs. Linford gazed up at him imploringly.

He wanted to tell her that he mustn’t do anything he didn’t feel like, but she looked so eager, so expectant, that the words died on his tongue. Since when had he started caring about offending other people?

Instead, he challenged her. “Why?”

Surprised by his question, she jerked back slightly, blinking. “Because… It will be incredibly diverting. And you won a boon at the contest. This will be your chance to claim it.” She smiled broadly. “See? You must.”

All the other guests had filed from the dining room, leaving him alone with Mrs. Linford. Perhaps seeing that he was still undecided, she cast her head to the side. “I am a dear friend of Violet’s, as you may know. She also won a boon this morning, and it was her idea to have the games since we can’t go outside for bowls.” The rain had started just after the archery contest and hadn’t relented. “It would mean so much to me if you could support her endeavor. She’s had such misfortune, you see.” She brought her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened slightly. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Curiosity seized hold of his judgment. He ought to go up to his room as he’d planned, but he suddenly couldn’t move. “What sort of misfortune?”

“I shouldn’t say.” She waved her hand but lowered her voice conspiratorially. “You’ll keep this between us?” At his nod, she continued. “She had a rather unhappy marriage—several children she couldn’t carry—and parties like this bring some joy into her lonely, solitary life.”

She was lonely?

What an asinine question. She was alone. Except that didn’t mean she was lonely. He wasn’t lonely.

Her loneliness was only a part of it. More concerning was what she’d endured. When she’d left Bath without a word, he’d gone to her aunt and uncle, who’d informed him she was gone. He’d asked for her direction, but Violet’s aunt had told him to forget about her. Her uncle had been far kinder. He’d seemed genuinely sorry when he’d informed Nick that she was to wed Viscount Pendleton. He’d spent a great deal of energy wishing her unhappiness and misfortune. It seemed his wishes had come to fruition. Yes, he was fucking cursed.

“I’m sorry to hear what she suffered. I’d hoped her marriage was happy.” That was a lie, but in retrospect, given his own travails, he would’ve preferred she found contentment.

“As I said, I shouldn’t have revealed her secrets. You won’t say anything, will you?” Mrs. Linford wrung her hands.

“I will not.”

She exhaled with relief, her features softening. “And you’ll come to the ballroom?”

It seemed he must. “Yes.”

She smiled warmly, and they left together. “The ballroom is this way. It’s not really a ballroom but a very large reception room. We’ve used it for a ball or two.”

When they arrived, the room was already inhabited by, as Mrs. Linford had termed them, the younger set.

“Well, I’ll see you for dinner, then.” She turned to go.

“You aren’t staying?”

“I wish I could, but I need to see to the other guests. A hostess’s duties are never finished, I’m afraid.” With a slight wave of her hand, she departed in a swirl of bottle-green skirts.

Nick stepped into the room, and the conversation came to a halt.

“It’s about time,” Simon said with mock impatience. At least, Nick thought he was pretending. “Tell us, Lady Pendleton, what do you have planned?”

Violet looked around at everyone gathered, her gaze passing quickly over Nick. “I thought we might play some games. We can start with Kiss the Nun.”

One of the young women gasped and brought her hand to her mouth to cover a giggle.

“Since it’s my boon, I will choose the nun and the grate.” She peered at the others, her brow furrowed. “I choose Lady Lavinia as the grate and Miss Kingman as the nun.” Now she stared directly at Nick.

Hell and the devil, she wasn’t going to choose him as the penitent, was she? He hadn’t played this game in ages, but he vaguely remembered it. The penitent tried to kiss the nun’s cheek through the grate, which would be Lady Lavinia’s hand.

“Duke,” Violet said, “since you won the other boon, would you like to choose the penitent?” Her gaze was expectant, and she seemed to be trying to communicate something.

He floundered for a minute, his mind searching until he stupidly realized what she was trying to accomplish. “I choose Romsey.” He turned toward his friend with a bland smile.

“Of course you do,” Simon muttered. He pivoted toward the ladies and offered a courtly bow. “My pleasure.”

Violet dragged a chair to the center of the room, and one of the other gentlemen, Mr. Seaver, placed another beside it. Miss Kingman took one seat, and Lady Lavinia took the other.

Simon moved to stand close to them. “Shall we begin?”

Lady Lavinia splayed her hand against Miss Kingman’s cheek.

“Alas these bars, these cruel, cruel bars!” Simon wailed, putting a great depth of emotion into the recitation.

Laughter filled the room, and Simon grinned.

Oh, this was truly brilliant of Violet. Nick was glad he’d allowed Mrs. Linford to talk him into coming.

Miss Kingman fluttered her lashes up at Simon. “They’re not so narrow, but you may bestow on me a kiss—one parting kiss!”

As soon as she uttered the word kiss, Simon leaned down and tried to kiss her cheek. Lady Lavinia closed her fingers, and he kissed them instead.

“Take this for your bad management!” she cried, grabbing his ear and giving it a tug.

“Ow!” Simon said, rubbing his ear.

Lady Lavinia blanched. “I’m sorry!”

Simon pressed a kiss to Miss Kingman’s cheek. “Ha! I win!”

Miss Kingman frowned at him. “You don’t. You’re supposed to wait until I say, ‘One parting kiss’ again.”

Simon looked around at everyone else. “Is that right?”

“I’m afraid so,” Mr. Adair, a lanky young fellow with light brown hair, said with a laugh. “Guess you’ll have to try again.”

Simon sighed with resignation. “Again, then.”

“I really am sorry about your ear,” Lady Lavinia said.

“I may have exaggerated my hurt in order to win.”

“Bravo!” the third gentleman, Mr. Woodward, called out.

Lady Lavinia narrowed her eyes. “You cheated.”

His eyes sparked with mischief. “I pressed my advantage.”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh. Everyone turned to look at him in surprise, reminding him that he rarely laughed. But it was Violet’s attention that seared through him. There was a glint of appreciation in her gaze, and a smile teased her mouth. He was captivated.

“Anyway, it did hurt a little,” Simon said, straightening.

Miss Kingman shook her head at him, but her half smile said she found the situation as amusing as everyone else. “One parting kiss!”

Simon leapt into action and tried to land a kiss against her cheek. Unfortunately, he was foiled again by Lady Lavinia. She repeated the phrase, “Take this for your bad management!” but this time barely touched his ear.

Even so, Simon fell to the ground and pretended agony, grabbing his head and moaning aloud. This was met with sharp laughter and applause.

Lady Lavinia finished her script this time, glaring down at him. “How dare you waste your kisses on cold iron?”

“Are they wasted if you enjoy them?” he asked archly as he rolled to his side, then clambered to his feet. The other gentlemen snickered, and Nick nearly snorted.

Lady Lavinia blushed, and Simon surveyed the scene with his hands on his hips.

“I think I must try a different strategy.” He knelt beside Miss Kingman. “Is there a rule against this as well?”

She turned her head and started, perhaps realizing how close he was. Too close for propriety’s sake, but these sorts of games pushed the boundaries of acceptability. Which was why they were so entertaining.

“No,” Miss Kingman said. She straightened her spine against the back of the chair and looked forward. “One parting kiss!”

Though he was closer, Simon failed again to put his lips to her cheek, kissing Lady Lavinia’s knuckles instead. Miss Kingman recited the words once more, “One parting kiss!”

He groaned in frustration. “How much longer must I keep this up?”

Miss Kingman turned a haughty gaze toward him, playing her role to perfection. “Until you kiss me.”

“Oh, I’ll kiss you all right.” He looked at her with determination before kneeling beside her once more. “Again.”

She stared at him a moment before turning her head forward. “One parting kiss!”

Simon moved quickly, his body arcing in front of hers. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Miss Kingman’s eyes rounded, but it was over almost immediately. Simon jumped to his feet with a cry of victory. “That was fair, was it not?”

Lady Lavinia shook her head but was laughing in spite of herself. “You’re supposed to kiss her cheek.”

“It was never going to work that way.” Simon gave Lady Lavinia a stern look, but the tremor of his lips revealed his amusement. “You’re a menace, grate.”

Lady Lavinia curtsied. “I think that means I win. Do I get to be the nun now?” She looked to Violet.

“I’ve no objection. Miss Colton, will you be her grate?”

Simon cleared his throat. “And I choose Mr. Seaver to be the penitent.” Simon pivoted to Violet. “It’s my choice, isn’t it?”

“I see no reason why not.”

Mr. Seaver went to even greater lengths to try to kiss Lady Lavinia’s cheek. After six attempts, he told Miss Colton there was a spider on her head. She shrieked and jumped up, leaving him a clear path to kiss Lady Lavinia.

Everyone was still consumed with laughter when Miss Kingman suggested they play Kiss if You Can next.

“I’m not sure I remember that one,” Simon said, wiping his eyes.

Nick was glad he’d asked, because he didn’t remember it either.

“A gentleman and a lady will kneel with their backs to each other,” Miss Kingman explained. “When the crier says ‘make ready,’ the lady looks over her left shoulder and the gentleman over his right. At the word present, he will lean forward to kiss her cheek, and at the direction fire, he will try to kiss her, but she may evade his endeavor.”

“How will we decide the pairs?” Mr. Adair asked.

Violet went to a table. “I brought cards. High cards drawn by each sex will face off against each other?”

“Or not, as the game goes,” Simon joked.

“An excellent plan,” Nick said, joining her at the table where she’d picked up the deck of cards. “Do you want me to shuffle?”

She handed him the cards, and her fingers brushed against his palm. Her touch danced through him, awakening parts of him that had lain dormant for far too long.

He shuffled the deck in his hand several times while Simon and Mr. Adair moved the chairs out of the way. When he was finished, Nick set the cards on the table.

Violet gestured to the table. “If everyone would care to take a card…”

The ladies drew first. Violet went last, her gaze meeting Nick’s as she pulled her card. Her features didn’t betray her fortune. It was really too bad that she didn’t like to play cards—she’d be a formidable adversary.

The gentlemen went next, and Nick, like Violet, drew last. A king, which meant he’d likely be first up. He tensed waiting for everyone to reveal their card.

“Won’t be me going first,” Seaver said. “I’ve the two of clubs.”

He tossed his card on the table. Everyone else revealed theirs, and Nick’s eye immediately went to Violet’s—the queen. He nearly laughed, but checked to see if any of the other women had queens. They didn’t, and no kings either.

“Looks like it’s you and Lady Pendleton,” Simon said. His voice carried a hint of something.

Nick snapped his head toward his friend and detected the glimmer of a smile in his gaze. He was enjoying this. He was playing matchmaker. And he had his sights set on Nick and Violet. Bloody hell.

Nick wanted to be angry, but his pull toward Violet was too strong. He’d felt it last night and again today when Simon had asked if it would be distressing for him to pursue her. Nick had suppressed his reaction—he’d been jealous. Shockingly, blood-boilingly, desperately jealous.

The realization shook him to the core.

“Who’s to be the crier?” Simon asked.

“Why not Mr. Seaver since he won Kiss the Nun?” Adair suggested.

With everyone in agreement, Violet and Nick moved to the center of the room.

“Is this awkward?” she whispered.

“No.” His pulse quickened. Should he kiss her or should he fail?

His mind screamed the latter. And really, that was for the best. Jealousy aside, he and Violet had no future, not when their past was so painful.

And yet when they knelt with their backs to each other, he caught her scent of rose and an earthy spice. It was wholly feminine yet slightly wild. He hadn’t smelled a rose in the past eight years without thinking of her. His body reacted, heating at her proximity.

“Make ready,” Seaver said.

Nick looked over his right shoulder and felt the air move as she looked over her left.

“Present.”

Nick leaned close to her cheek. He could feel her warmth, and his skin tingled.

“Fire.”

He moved closer, but she sprang up. Instinctively, he reached for her, his arm curling about her waist. He pulled her back down. To stop her from hitting the floor, he spun to his back and sprawled, bringing her down on top of him. He cupped the side of her face and kissed her, his lips sliding over hers for a brief but delicious moment.

“The cheek,” she murmured, her gaze locked with his.

He leaned up and brushed his mouth against the soft flesh of her cheek. His lips lingered perhaps a second too long, but he didn’t care. Desire coursed through him, and for the first time in years, he felt alive.

“Well done!” Simon called, applauding. The others joined in. “Shall we draw again?”

Nick rolled Violet to her side, his arm cradling her from fully touching the floor. Her eyes never left his, the intensity in their brown-green depths stoking his hunger.

He took her hands and reluctantly stood, drawing her up with him. She took her hands from his, but didn’t look away.

“You don’t need to draw for this round.” Simon came toward them. “But you do need to move,” he whispered near Nick’s ear.

Shaken from his rapturous stupor, Nick moved to the side of the room. Violet followed him but didn’t stand too close as the next players—Miss Colton and Mr. Woodward—took their places.

Nick stole a glance at her profile and wondered if the kiss had affected her as much as it had him. Then he asked himself why it would matter. As he’d determined earlier, they had no future because of their past.

What about the present?

Nick wanted to ignore the voice even as his body screamed for release—for her.

But he was cursed. For that reason, he would leave her alone.

* * *

Following dinner that night, Violet made her way to the drawing room with Hannah. Dinner had been the typical affair, with most of the conversation driven by Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law. Violet had spent far too much time watching Nick and thinking of his kiss. Over and over and over again. Though brief, it had far surpassed her eight-year-old memories.

“Just two more full days,” Hannah said as they neared the drawing room doorway. “It’s evenings like this that I am glad the party is only a week and not a fortnight. I’m exhausted.”

“And your mother went home this afternoon?” Violet asked. Hannah’s mother, Mrs. Parker, liked to come for a portion of the party, but since Hannah’s children were staying at her house near Bath, she was eager to return to them.

“Yes, but I have you here for support.” Her eyes lit, and she tugged Violet’s arm, leading her to the side of the doorway. “Before we go in, tell me how this afternoon went. I’ve only heard murmurs, but it seems like it was great fun.”

It was certainly memorable. After Kiss if You Can, they’d played a few more games. Nothing had eclipsed her kiss with Nick, however. In fact, she could scarcely recall anything else that had happened.

“It was quite diverting,” she said.

Hannah made a face at her. “What a mundane description. Is there nothing exciting to share? At least tell me what you played.”

“Just silly games.”

Hannah regarded her skeptically. “This is suspicious. It seems as though you’re hiding something. Don’t make me ask Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law to ferret out the details.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“No, but you’re being so odd!” She sidled closer and lowered her voice. “Did something scandalous happen?”

“Of course not. As I said, they were silly games.” Violet didn’t know why she was being so secretive—Nick had kissed her in full view of everyone, and it was really only a matter of time before the news was shared. She was actually a bit surprised it hadn’t been already. But then this postdinner drawing room time with the ladies might yet see it out.

“Kiss the Nun, Kiss if You Can, that sort of thing,” Violet said.

Hannah’s eyes flickered with understanding—and interest. “I see. Who kissed whom? I can tell from your demeanor that something happened.”

“Several kisses were exchanged.” Violet hoped the heat she felt rising up her cheeks wasn’t noticeable, but knew that was a fantasy. “I was paired with Nick—the Duke of Kilve—in Kiss if You Can.”

“And he was successful.” Hannah’s mouth spread into a wide grin. “How wonderful.” She sobered, her eyes taking on a darker glint. “It was wonderful, wasn’t it?”

Beyond wonderful. “It was on the lips.”

Hannah’s eyes rounded, and she lifted her hand to her open mouth. “Well, now I understand your hesitation. However did you manage it?”

Did she think Violet had initiated it? “I jumped up to evade him, and he pulled me down. We lost our balance, and I…landed on top of him. He kissed me.” She gave Hannah a wry look. “That is how the game is played, if you recall.”

“How splendid.” She lowered her tone to just above a whisper. “Shall I arrange for you to have an assignation? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done that at one of my parties.”

Violet tried not to laugh and failed. “Of course they have.”

Hannah blinked. “I guess they were quite skilled, since I was unaware.” She shrugged and smiled briefly before glancing at the drawing room. “I suppose I should go in.” She sounded resigned. “But if you do need assistance with a liaison, you need only ask.”

“I won’t, but thank you.”

Hannah gave her a saucy look. “You never know.”

No, she didn’t. But she wasn’t sure she could imagine it. She’d spent so many years pining over what could have been. To consider that it might be within her grasp was too much.

Violet went into the drawing room and was instantly drawn to join the young women in their little corner seating area.

“Lady Pendleton, we worried you weren’t coming,” Lady Lavinia said.

Violet sat down in the open chair between Miss Colton and Lady Lavinia. “I think it’s past time you all call me Violet.”

“Then you must call us Lavinia, Sarah, and Diana.” She glanced toward Miss Colton and Miss Kingman in succession. They both nodded in agreement.

“It would be my privilege,” Violet said.

Lavinia glanced behind her toward where the older matrons were holding court. The buzz of conversation coming from that direction was as constant as ever, like a beehive on a hot summer day.

“We had such a grand time today,” Lavinia said effusively, her eyes alight.

“Oh yes,” Sarah agreed, her cheeks a fetching shade of pale pink. “I must admit I didn’t try very hard to get away from Mr. Woodward in Kiss if You Can,” she said softly but with a heady excitement.

Lavinia giggled at this. “I knew it! I thought for certain the Duke of Romsey was going to catch me, but he didn’t. Perhaps he was still cross with me for tweaking his ear.”

“He was cheating,” Diana said with a gentle snort.

“It wasn’t as bad as Mr. Seaver saying there was a spider in my hair,” Sarah said, blinking at them. “I was terrified. I hate spiders.”

After a beat of silence, they all laughed, including Sarah.

“Oh damn,” Violet murmured. She glanced apologetically at the others. “I beg your pardon. But steel yourselves. Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law are coming.”

Sarah’s eyes widened slightly with fear while Lavinia boldly lifted her chin. Meanwhile, Diana looked as serene as ever, her features reflecting nothing but an air of calm indifference. She really was formidable when it came to putting on appearances.

“You ladies are certainly enjoying yourselves over here,” Lady Nixon said. “Do share what is so amusing.” Her smile was wide, but her eyes were dark with malicious intent. Or so Violet thought. The woman was unconscionable.

“Nothing really,” Violet said. “Just idle chatter.” She bared her teeth in a smile, knowing some found that vulgar but hoping Lady Nixon would understand she would not be cowed.

Mrs. Law forced the sort of laugh that had nothing to do with humor and everything to do with trying to manage a situation. “Oh come, you simply must share.” She looked directly at Sarah, who shrank in her chair. “Are you discussing this afternoon’s activities? It sounds as if it was most agreeable.”

Violet wanted to leap up and wave Mrs. Law away from Sarah. Perhaps with a sword since it felt as if the woman was targeting Sarah for strategic purposes as if they were in a battle.

“It was,” Sarah said uncertainly.

Lady Nixon sat down on the small settee next to Sarah. “What did you do?”

“We, ah, played games.”

Mrs. Law perched on the other side of Sarah, though there was scarcely room. This put her rather close to Violet—if she reached out, she could box the officious woman’s ears.

“What sort of games?” Mrs. Law asked.

Sarah glanced between the two women who’d surrounded her as if they were conducting a siege. “Kiss the Nun.”

Mrs. Law clapped her hands together. “Delightful! Who kissed whom? Should we alert anyone’s parents?” She laughed loudly, and the rest of the women from their grouping on the other side of the room came to stand around their chairs and the settee. Violet’s neck prickled under all the attention.

She decided to do something good with it.

“All the gentlemen behaved nobly and with enviable charm. I thought the Duke of Romsey, was particularly game. Wouldn’t you agree, ladies?” She glanced around at the others and silently prodded them to join in her campaign to rehabilitate Simon.

“Without reservation,” Lavinia said. “I tugged his ear a bit too hard in Kiss the Nun, and he was quite magnanimous.”

“Did you?” Lady Nixon said with a laugh. “Well, it’s hardly anything a gentleman doesn’t deserve.” She exchanged a look with Mrs. Law, who also laughed, as did several others.

Violet met Hannah’s distressed gaze. “Shall we go back and sit?” Hannah suggested nervously. “The gentlemen will likely arrive shortly.”

“Oh, and we wouldn’t want them to know we’re discussing them,” Mrs. Law said, chortling.

“But that’s all we do,” Mrs. Stinnet said from behind Diana’s chair. “Mostly.”

This was met with more laughter. Even Lavinia cracked a smile.

Lady Nixon fixed Violet with a penetrating stare. “You seem quite fixated on the Duke. Is it possible you have a tendre for the Duke of Ruin—sorry, Romsey?”

Violet gritted her teeth. “I do not. However, he’s demonstrated himself to be a kind and admirable gentleman.”

“Besides, it was Ice who kissed her.” Lavinia cringed the moment the words left her mouth. She shot a pained, apologetic look toward Violet.

“Is that so?” Mrs. Law asked in a deceptively melodic voice.

Every head swiveled toward Violet, expectation painted on their faces.

“It was Kiss if You Can, and we drew cards for partners.” Violet’s tone was dispassionate, and she didn’t care. “Oh look, the gentlemen have arrived.” She smirked at Mrs. Law.

“Excellent!” Hannah declared, perhaps a trifle too loudly. “Let us repair to the ballroom for dancing!”

Lavinia jumped up. “Yes, let’s!”

Sarah joined her, looking as if she wanted to flee as quickly as possible from the women flanking her.

The gentlemen joined the women, and Violet heard one ask why the women were all clustered together. She walked away before she could hear the answer. She needed air.

Intending to cut through the adjoining sitting room to reach a doorway to the rear garden, she stalked away from the rest of the guests. Well, most of the rest of the guests. As she neared the doorway, she saw Nick standing near the mantel, his eyes hooded. Tonight was meant for brooding, apparently.

He turned his head, his gaze catching hers. She inclined her chin toward the sitting room, silently asking him to join her.

After hesitating a moment during which her irritation increased, he moved away from the mantel. Trusting that he was going to follow her, she continued into the sitting room.

She turned near the exterior door. He strode toward her, tall and handsome in his black and gray evening attire. Heat dashed through her, bringing every sensation of that afternoon’s kiss to the fore.

“I’m going to take a walk outside.”

He stared at her. “It’s cold.”

“I need some air. And I need to speak with you.”

“You want me to accompany you.” It wasn’t a question.

So she didn’t answer it. Instead, she turned and went outside. To his credit, he followed her.

As soon as they were outdoors, they were plunged into near darkness. Light from the house provided meager illumination, but not enough for her to make out his features. Unless they were close.

He came toward her and shrugged out of his coat, then wordlessly draped it around her shoulders. She was instantly engulfed in his spicy clove scent. The tremors racing through her body since he’d walked into the sitting room behind her intensified.

“I’m afraid our kiss is now common knowledge, but that isn’t why I wanted to speak with you.” She looked at his face, which she could see better now that he was closer. Even so, she couldn’t discern his feelings about what she’d just told him. “I have a plan for Simon,” she said.

“Do you?” The question was equal parts interested curiosity and skepticism.

“He’s already won over the younger set, but Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law are proving rather horrid.” She didn’t bother keeping the acid from her tone.

“They’ve nettled you quite thoroughly,” he murmured.

“They’re the nastiest sort. I plan on telling Hannah that I refuse to attend any further house parties if they’re to be here.” She shuddered, and it had nothing to do with the cold but her ire. She was actually feeling much warmer ensconced in his coat. Or maybe it was just his nearness that was causing her body temperature to rise.

“Perhaps now you see why I avoid such things,” he said softly and with more than a hint of irony.

“Quite.” But she knew he wasn’t the Duke of Ice simply to avoid the likes of Mrs. Law and Lady Nixon.

“What is your plan to do with Simon?” he asked.

Violet took a deep breath. The cool night air filled her lungs and cleansed her irritation away, leaving the thunderous hum of her attraction to him. She worked hard to ignore it.

“I should like to make a hero of him again tomorrow in Wells.”

His brow knitted. “How?”

“He’ll need to rescue one of the ladies. I thought during a tour that one of them could trip or encounter some sort of difficulty.”

“And he would help them?”

She nodded.

“She’d have to be privy to our plans. Who would do that?”

“Me.”

Now he reacted. His nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched briefly before he schooled his features once more. He was trying to hide his response. Why?

“What’s wrong with that?” she asked.

“His wife died falling down the stairs. We must be careful.”

“Even more reason for it to be me, then.”

Again, the muscles in his jaw tensed.

She burned to know why this agitated him. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Not yet, but I’ll let you know if I come up with one.”

“Why does this plan bother you?”

He fixed his gaze past her shoulder into the darkness of the garden. “It doesn’t.”

She didn’t believe him, but she was also certain he wouldn’t tell her the truth. Perhaps it was just that he was worried about Simon. She hadn’t thought about any similarity to his wife’s death. “What if I pretend to take ill and faint?”

“Do you really think this will help his reputation? As you said, Lady Nixon and Mrs. Law seem immovable.”

Indeed they did. Frustration curled through her, and she stared at his cravat, her lips pursed.

“Please don’t do that.” His voice sounded strained.

Her gaze shot up to his. “What?”

“Never mind.” He avoided looking at her.

What if he was having the same problem she was? What if the desire pulsing through her was also careening through him? “I enjoyed this afternoon. The games,” she clarified, not quite brave enough to reveal the entire truth: I enjoyed your kiss.

“I apologize for what happened.”

He regretted it? She didn’t pretend to not know what he meant. “You’re sorry you kissed me? I’m not. I’m only sorry it was so short.” She stared up at him, her eyes drinking in the cleft in his chin and the sharp, seductive angle of his cheekbone and willing him to look at her.

His gaze dipped to hers finally. Ice and fire seemed to war within his stare. “It won’t happen again. There is no future between us, Violet.”

The hunger inside her coiled and grew into anger. “You really plan to spend the rest of your life alone? Why would you choose to be the Duke of Ice?”

He leaned forward, his face scant inches from hers. “I didn’t. It chose me.” Their gazes locked for a long moment before he retreated. When he spoke again, his tone had cooled. “Whether I’m alone or not isn’t your concern.”

The pieces of her heart, broken for so long, seemed to sigh in her chest. “You shouldn’t be alone. You deserve happiness.”

“Yes, well, we don’t always get what we deserve, do we? If I marry again, it won’t be for love. Fairy-tale dreams of a happy ever after aren’t for me, Violet. And I suspect they aren’t for you either.”

It was like a physical blow. She gasped. Because there was truth in his words. She’d wronged him so badly. “No, I suspect they aren’t.” She barely heard her muted response.

That should’ve been the end of it, but she was wearing his coat.

She found the courage to look up at him and was shocked to see stark desire in his eyes before the wall of ice fell back into place. “Is this all an act?” she asked, her distress bubbling to the surface.

“What?”

She resisted the urge to kick him. “Your frigidity. I see hints of the Nick I knew. Just when I think you’re not really the cold man everyone thinks, you’re coated in frost once more. What the devil is wrong with you?”

His jaw twitched, and everything about him heated. “Everything,” he growled. “I was fine until I came to this bloody party and saw you.” He swayed toward her again. “I don’t like the way you make me feel.”

He was so close. She ached to touch him. “How is that?” The question came out in a low rasp.

“As if I’m not in control.” His mouth was just an inch from hers.

If she leaned forward, she could kiss him…

But he turned and started toward the house. She still had his coat.

Dashing in front of him, she blocked his path. She shrugged out of his garment and held it out to him. He didn’t immediately take it, but when he did, he was careful not to touch her hand.

Without another word, he disappeared inside.

Violet exhaled, her breath rattling from her chest. She began to shake, and she knew it wasn’t entirely from the cold. Closing her eyes briefly, she heard him say, as if I’m not in control.

That was precisely how she felt. For years. What’s more, she was certain she’d feel that way forever. For if she could control anything, she would choose not to love him anymore.