“You don’t intend to marry?” she asked.
He was a marquess and one of his primary duties was to provide an heir. Though she’d known he was in no hurry to do so from what Eliza had said, what had risen between them surely meant something.
“Not a moment before I must. Perhaps in another ten years or so.”
Ten? Hurt returned, and she dropped her gaze. “I see.” The urge to weep once again took hold, but this time for a different reason.
He placed a finger beneath her chin until she met his gaze, then offered a half-smile. “However, I would be pleased to share a few more kisses with you. We could explore a little of the passion we share if you’d allow it.”
Explore their passion? Her mouth went dry at what that might mean.
“Think of it as practice.” He released her and eased away, leaving her suddenly chilled. “I promise it would be pleasurable for both of us.”
Then with a dip of his head and a smoldering look, he departed and closed the door behind him.
Millie tipped her head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling, wondering what on earth she was to do now.
Chapter Seven
Winston shrugged away atwinge of guilt as he entered the Stannus ballroom through a patio door, avoiding the queue of guests waiting to greet the hosts. He hoped Lord Stannus wouldn’t mind that he’d eschewed the tedious formality.
He drummed his fingers against his trouser leg as he surveyed the ballroom, impatient to find Millicent. Two days had passed since their passionate encounter. Unfortunately, the kiss only made him long for more. Disappointing when he had hoped it would end his interest. Not even her reminder that she wanted marriage had removed it.
Why hadn’t he realized how desirable she was until these last few months? It was as if she had bloomed before his eyes, or perhaps she’d always been this desirable, and it had taken him this long to notice.
He’d thought her interesting last summer, the warmth and intelligence in her eyes catching his notice. And the more hecame to know her, the more he realized how intriguing and appealing she was beyond her quiet beauty.
But now...
Well, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since that heated kiss. She’d followed him into his dreams, disturbing his sleep as erotic images of her joining him in bed filled his thoughts.
Whatever this was between them wasn’t finished as far as he was concerned. He hoped she agreed, despite the differences in their plans for the immediate future.
Of course, he had known she wanted marriage. That came as no surprise. Yet he couldn’t deny disappointment at her confirmation of her intent and continued to hold hope she might consider a little...dalliance before she took a husband.
As he’d determined before, they would have to be careful. Very careful. He had no intention of ruining her. But the interlude at the garden party had proved that passion burned between them. He wasn’t above trying to lure her into another taste or two. More if she was agreeable. Never mind that his thoughts proved he didn’t deserve her.
Surely another kiss would ease his desire and allow him to step away when his interest faded, and she chose someone to marry. He only hoped it wouldn’t be Dunthorpe. The viscount didn’t deserve her when he clearly couldn’t see the prize before him.
The ballroom teemed with ladies in elegant gowns and men in formal evening attire, making it a challenge to find her. The high-ceilinged room boasted marble columns, touches of black and gold, and a compass pattern chalked on the dance floor, visible only because dancing had yet to begin.
He moved through the throng, nodding at a few acquaintances, pleased when he came upon Silas Hayward, Viscount Winstead.
“When did you arrive?” his friend asked as he glanced toward the ballroom door. “I didn’t see you enter.”
Winston had known him for years, and they’d spent too many late nights gambling and drinking together than he cared to admit.
“I came in through the patio door. Much easier than dealing with the reception line.” Especially since he was only there to see Millicent.
“I see.” The viscount continued to watch the door, stirring Winston’s curiosity.
“Who are you looking for?” he asked.
“Prue. I thought she would be here by now.”
“Of course.” Lady Prudence Davies, his betrothed, happened to be Millicent’s cousin, another lady involved in the wallflower wager. “Are you eager to tie the knot?” The thought of doing so was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
“Very much. The day can’t come soon enough.” The besotted expression on his friend’s face had Winson shaking his head.