“Catherine says the duke kissed you.” Emma followed as Julia tried to ignore her sister and pluck out the pesky weeds that had sprouted recently.

“Catherine loves to make up stories.” Julia adjusted her bonnet so her sister could not see the blush that was probably evident on her cheeks.

“Catherine saw Nicholas and Amelia kiss too. She was not lying about that.”

Julia shook her head. Why Catherine had a knack of interrupting kisses, she did not know, but it was beyond frustrating. It was hard enough to understand quite what had happened without her sisters talking of it.

“Nothing happened. She saw nothing,” Julia repeated Catherine’s words. While her younger sister might not say a word to anyone outside of the family, it did not surprise her that she had told Emma. “Do you not have some card tricks to practice?”

Emma shook her head. “I’m not sure it’s for me. I was thinking of learning chess.”

“You tried that, remember? Catherine kept beating you.”

“Well, I might have improved since then.” Emma lifted her chin. “Anyway, stop trying to distract me. Tell me, was he a good kisser?”

Julia shook her head.

“Surely he must be, he has likely kissed hundreds of women?”

“I am not saying a word, that is all.”

“So Catherine was not lying.” Her sister’s grin grew sly. “I knew it. I knew you liked him even though you kept calling him arrogant.”

“He is arrogant.” Julia stood and tugged off her gloves. Despite kneeling on a cushion, her gown and apron were smeared with dirt. With her sister following her around, it was unlikely she would get any more gardening done.

“But—”

“He is arrogant,” Julia repeated. “He is arrogant, and flirtatious, and has very definitely kissed hundreds of women.”

He was also charming, and gentle, and kissed her like she was the only woman on earth. He pressed her glasses up her nose and flicked away her curl and looked at her like she was special. It was a precarious position to be in—no longer utterly hating the very ground he walked upon. Julia did not know whether to be terrified or excited.

“So he was a good kisser?” Julia clapped her hands together. “I knew it. A man as handsome as that couldn’t not be.”

“It does not change the other things. After all, being a good kisser does not excuse setting an awful example to one’s young and impressionable brother.”

“I am not so sure Stephen is that impressionable. He is seventeen after all. Only two years younger than Catherine and she would certainly never let herself be led.”

“Well Catherine is unique for her age.”

Emma laughed. “She is. But I am not so sure Guy is as irresponsible as you think. Stephen was complaining terribly how his brother had dragged him out to the countryside to save him from himself and how awful and boring it was before you two came back from the kitchen.”

“He was?”

Emma nodded. “I think it cost Guy a pretty penny too. That’s probably why he needs this mill. He bought the house and land here so Stephen could be away from the bad influences in London.”

“That is all very well but perhaps Stephen needs to be away from his brother.”

Emma peered at her. “Do you really believe that?”

“I—I don’t know,” Julia confessed.

“I’m sure if he was not intent on building this mill, you would see him in a better light.”

“It does not matter, though. So long as he builds this mill, he and I are natural enemies.”

“Who are you picking fights with now, Julia?”

The baritone sent a shiver through her. She turned and scowled at Guy. “Must you always sneak?”

“I was not aware I was sneaking.” Roo bounded past him and jumped up at her, pressing dirty paws to her apron.

Julia gave the dog a fuss and looked up at his owner. It was only then that she realized Emma had vanished somewhere. She shook her head to herself. “How is Stephen?”

“Sore-headed and tired. Not contrite enough, unfortunately, but I shall work on that.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I have groveling to do, remember? And some unfinished business.”

“Unfinished business?”

She watched the dog pick up a scent and dart off after it, leaving them utterly alone. She half-wished to call the animal back so that she would at least have something to distract her from him. Perhaps he was not as awful as she thought if he was willing to uproot himself and invest a lot of money in a new home for Stephen but it did not change things. It could not.

Could it?

“You are a clever woman, Julia. Playing foolish does not suit you.”

“I am no fool, I can promise you that, Your Grace.” She stiffened her back and met his eyes while wishing he was not so ridiculously handsome.

“Guy,” he said. “Call me Guy.”

She did not want to. Slipping back to Your Grace gave her a sense of distance. After all, he was a rich, handsome, wildly sought after titled man. There really was a gap between them even without her being one of the unmarriable, unsuitable Chadwick girls. Amelia marrying a viscount had shocked society enough as it was.

But why was she even thinking of marriage? Even she knew that one silly, almost kiss did not count as a marriage proposition and certainly not to a man like Guy.

“Your sister—”

“Saw nothing,” she interjected.

“And do you agree with her? That nothing happened?”

He was so close now that she could smell the masculine tang of his cologne. Whiskers were scattered across his jaw. She could see each individual one and imagine the rough feel of them against her palm. Apparently, he had not shaved this morning. A few were gray, just around his lips. She could not decide why but knowing such intimate details about him made her stomach swoop.

“Julia?”

She snapped her gaze up to his eyes. Eyes that were such a uniform blue, she had to fall back on her original conclusion. He had to be one of those ancient gods the Greeks worshipped—or something similar. How could a man be so perfect?

He’s not perfect, she reminded herself. Do not forget the otters.

“I do not recall much of last night at all really. I was very tired. Did something happen?”

His lips tilted to the right, slanting in a manner that made her want to kiss them straight again. “Nothing at all?”

“No.” She squared up to him.

Though the day was pleasant, she could swear she could feel heat radiating from his body. It tried to lure her in. Draw her to a doom like a siren calling from the rocks. When she felt herself sway a little, she rooted her feet firmer.

“It seems you are suffering from forgetfulness,” he murmured and dipped his head to close the gap between them. He moved his head, tilting it, bringing his mouth near hers then backing away ever so slightly. The effect had her so entranced that she found herself copying his movements, lifting her mouth so that he may come nearer and do what she craved him to do.

“I think I must find a cure for it,” he concluded in a whisper.

A nonsensical noise of frustration escaped her when he did the dance again, letting her believe he would come in to kiss her before retreating slightly. A spark of triumph lit in his eyes when he heard the noise.

“Julia,” he said, that simple word trailing fingers of delight down her spine.

“Guy,” she replied.

Julia knew the word granted him permission. Permission to do whatever he wished with her, and yet she could not prevent herself from uttering his name.

His gaze searched hers briefly. He wrapped his arms about her waist and drew her hard into him. His arousal pressed through the layers of their clothes, sending a warm shiver of delight through her.

“Julia,” he said once more.

“Guy,” she replied firmly.

Perhaps this was not the cleverest idea ever. Guy was likely right and she was a fool. But being held in his arms, firm against his body, made her forget any reason why she should not be letting him kiss her into oblivion.

His mouth came down hard. Gone was the whisper soft kiss, so measured and careful. He slanted his mouth across hers and kissed her in a way that left her with no doubt what this was and there was certainly no chance of ever forgetting this. If Catherine saw them, she would never declare it ‘nothing.’

She stumbled back a little under his weight and he used her weakness to his advantage by pressing her up against a tree. The bark pricked her back in a way that reminded her this was real. Lord Weston was kissing her, touching her, seducing her.

Julia splayed her palms over the bark on either side of her. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she tasted a little coffee and something sweet there. With her eyes firmly closed, she touched her own tongue to his and he groaned. The sound was so unexpected, it sent a flurry of delight down between her legs. Who knew a bluestocking could make a man like Guy groan?

Guy pressed this kiss deep. A hand skimmed down to her waist then curved over her rear. He pressed between her thighs and angled her so that she could feel his arousal against her juncture.

“Oh.” The word was muffled by his kiss but he drew back and sucked in a long breath. She took a moment to catch her own too.

“Did I hurt you?”

“Certainly not.” The concern in his eyes made her heart flutter.

He grinned and pushed her glasses up her nose. “What do you do to me, Julia?”

“The same thing you do to me, I should imagine.”

“Always so factual and straightforward.”

“Is there any other way to be?”

He kissed the tip of her nose, then her forehead, and finally a light one to her jaw. She forced her hands to remain at her side while the world filtered slowly in. Roo barking in the background somewhere. The gentle sway of trees. The buzz of a bee.

Her hammering heart and her weak, overheated body. His gaze lingering over her, looking at her as though she was some precious specimen of flower.

“There are other ways,” he said softly. “One can be sensual. Romantic. Passionate even.” He rested a palm against the tree, keeping her surrounded by his body. “You are all of those too.”

A response failed her. How could she speak when he looked at her so? He was right, of course. She had been aware she held passion within her, but only for things she loved like animals and flowers. Never before had a man summoned such feelings.

Roo came sniffing around their legs and pawed his way up Guy’s leg. Guy moved back from her, giving her much needed space. “I think Roo is telling me something.”

“What would that be?”

“That if I stay alone with you much longer, I will lose all control and do something you might regret.”

She blinked at him. “And you would not regret it?”

He grinned and shook his head. “Certainly not.”