you think I am doing. Ask Grayson. My father was a true gentleman to his very last breath, and since his passing, I have honored his legacy. So much so, in fact, that I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss anyone.”
She spun back toward him and met his gaze across the short distance between them. “You’ve never kissed a woman? At your age?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve already kissed some lucky bastard, or I will hang myself for admitting what I just did.”
She bit back a laugh, realizing how serious he was. She shook her head, her wet braid clinging to her shoulder. “Of course I haven’t kissed anyone.”
“Good. Because I am not one to share with others.”
Her fingers tightened around the ring he’d given her, the sides of the stone digging into her palm. “I wouldn’t worry about others. I’m not even allowed to be alone in the presence of a man who isn’t a relative. You know that. Even this would be considered very …”
He closed the distance between them. “Very what?”
“Improper.”
His dark brows came together. “Genuine intentions could never be improper. I swear upon my honor that I have never once pursued a woman the way I am pursuing you. But this … you … us … it is meant to be. I can feel it.”
“You can feel it?” she drawled. “Oh, dear. That cannot be good. You may require leeches.”
He glared at her. “I am being quite serious.”
She giggled. “Yes. A bit too serious, I see.”
“Victoria.” He lowered his voice, leaning toward her. “I am not being insincere. I am merely conveying what I feel. What I have always felt. Destiny has been whispering your name to me ever since our eyes met. I cannot let this go. I cannot let you go. To do so would be to walk away from everything I feel.”
Victoria gawked up at him. It was as if he really did believe in all the silly things that existed in storybooks. Silly things like magic rings and destined courtly love meant to conquer all. Why, she hadn’t believed in such nonsense since she was … thirteen, when her mother died and shattered not only her father’s life, but her own. And when Victor had died … the last of whatever true happiness she’d known had died, too. Love could conquer quite a bit, that she knew, but it couldn’t conquer death. Which was why she wasn’t about to let it conquer her.
“How can destiny be whispering anything to you?” she challenged. “You don’t even know anything about me, aside from all of our superficial banter.”
“I know quite a bit about you.”
“You do not.”
“My dear, I have exhausted myself with all the inquiries I’ve made about you. I believe I know more about you than I know about myself.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“That is exactly so.”
“Then tell me. When and where was I born?”
He tilted his head and pushed away her wet braid from her shoulder. Her heart fluttered from the touch and she felt herself leaning toward him.
“I need more of a challenge than that, Victoria.”
“So you don’t know.”
“I do know.”
She jabbed his wet chest. “Then answer it.”
He caught her hand with his, keeping it from poking him. He smiled and lifted it to his mouth.
Full, warm lips brushed against her chilled skin, sending tingles of heat darting through her entire body. Wild tingles that made her breath and her pulse catch.
Meeting her gaze, he rubbed his fingers against her hand and indulgently replied, “Both you and Victor were born on the ninth of April in the year eighteen hundred and seven in the east wing of this house. You came first and your brother second. Whilst you thrived at birth, Victor was very frail. Though physicians did not expect him to live, he did, and as a result, your parents were always very protective of him. In time, however, you became far more protective and mothered Victor to annoyance.”
She blinked and yanked her hand out of his. This was far too intimate to be respectful. “Who told you that?”
“Grayson. I had him tell me everything about you. And I do mean everything.”
“Everything?” she echoed.
“Everything.”
“You can’t know everything.”
“Oh, but I can. Ask me another question.”
“I will.” She rolled his ring against the palm of her hand and eyed the end of the wood banister beside them, trying to come up with a question. “Who is my favorite author?”
“Daniel Defoe. The History and Remarkable Life of the Truly Honourable Colonel Jacque is your favorite. And though you’ve tried numerous times to get Grayson to unearth a copy of The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, Grayson knows you are far too young to be exposed to such devious content.”
Her eyes widened. Oh, she most certainly was going to gibbet Grayson for this. “What else did my cousin tell you about me?”
“Things you would probably deny. But things I cannot help but find extremely endearing.” His eyes flicked down toward her lips. He leaned in, hovering close. His breath heated the air between them, the scent of rain and allspice drifting all around her. “I want you to kiss me. I need you to kiss me. Because right now, destiny is telling me that if we do this, our lives will never be the same.”
She drew in a breath.
In her heart, she wanted to believe this romantic sop. She wanted to believe that if she kissed him and allowed herself to submit to whatever he was offering, her entire life would be transformed and all of her doubts about relationships, people, life and death would dissipate into a pile of rose petals she could toss into a fountain. Could a kiss change her entire life like the tip of a fairy wand changing one apple into a whole pie? There was only one way to find out.
“Don’t move,” she warned.
“I won’t,” he whispered.
Victoria eyed the quiet darkness of the foyer around them. Knowing she was probably going to regret it in one way or another, she raised herself onto the tips of her bare toes, hooked a hand behind his strong neck and yanked him down toward her. She pressed her lips against his surprisingly warm and soft mouth.
Lean, muscled arms slid around her and molded her closer against the length of his rain-soaked body. Everything swayed and spun. It was incredible.
Ever so slowly, their pressed lips parted in unison. After a moment of awkward hesitation, their tongues touched. Her pulse leapt. The faint taste of sweet, spiced cake made her realize Remington had in fact been in the kitchen eating Mrs. Davidson’s
