“It’s the subject matter. You’re approaching the kiss as if you’re describing tactical moves on a chessboard. I’d wager it’s your lack of life experience that’s impeding your progress. Lady Claridge was a woman of advanced years, a widow who traveled the globe.”
She bit her lip, taking in his analysis, weighing it with her head cocked to the side. “Meaning that I’ve never been kissed and therefore I have no business writing about such things? Was my kiss so unrealistic?”
“There were certain . . . logistical inconsistencies.”
“Well, I don’t know what happens during kissing. Whose hands go where, how the lips move—if they do move? Does the tongue move?Is the tongue involved at all?”
This last train of thought sent her into a slight panic. Had she spoken it aloud? To theduke? She must be suffering from writer’s strain. Lady Claridge had often spoken of the condition, which always occurred around the date when her novels were due to the publisher.
“Sometimes the tongue is, ah, involved, yes.” The duke cleared his throat. “And the hands go wherever they want, when the participants are amenable.”
“That tells me very little! But I can see that you’re trying to be helpful. You’re a man of few words, and not up to describing the art of kissing to me. Perhaps you could write a brief description in your terse, manly language and I could embellish it?”
Or... he could kiss her. That would solve the problem of herlack of experience in the area. His lips weren’t so very far away. His large hands rested on his knees. His thighs were spread, boots firmly planted on the floor. She could go to him, perch upon one of his knees...
She would never be so forward. And her stern, regimented guardian would never reciprocate even if she was mad enough to beg him to kiss her.
“I’ll introduce you to some ladies of my acquaintance. Talking to them will be far more helpful than anything I might write. In fact, that’s why I came to see you. My friend the Duchess of Osborne is hosting an art exhibition tomorrow evening. Should you wish to attend, I’ll ask Aunt Glynis to accompany you there.”
“An art exhibition? How exciting. I’d love to attend.” The next best thing to actual kissing would be asking for descriptions from ladies who had been kissed.
“It will be your first appearance in society, but you’ll be among my friends.”
“So you’ll be testing me.”
“Aunt Glynis will be observing whether or not you conduct yourself with appropriate propriety.”
“I was just now thinking that going to such a society event would afford me the opportunity to ask your lady friends to help me describe kissing. If I can’t describe a brief kiss, how am I to portray Adora’s scandalous adventures in the world of the ton? She has a proposal from a duke, she turns down a viscount, she is nearly kidnapped, two gentlemen fight a duel over her, she drinks champagne, flirts outrageously. She’s spirited into a dark garden by a handsome rake and then rescued... unless...” Her mind careened down a new path. “Unless I actuallyexperiencethose things? Myself. Practical experience to enrich the written world.”She knit her brow delicately, then nodded, making the decision. “Perhaps I do wish to attend the Season after all.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Now you don’t want me to attend the Season?”
“I don’t want you doing any of those things.”
“Which ones?”
“Any of them,” he thundered. “You are to attend balls and other events under Aunt Glynis’s watchful eye. That is all.”
She eyed him carefully, trying to assess just what it was that was rubbing him the wrong way. Surely a man with his keen eye and obvious intellect couldn’t be naïve about the tawdry adventures of the upper ton? She may not have any intimate knowledge of the details, but even she knew the broad strokes.
“You’re the one who asked your aunt to prepare me for a debut in society. Aren’t scandal and intrigue key parts of any Season?”
“You may try a few sips of champagne. I may take you riding on Rotten Row but I will definitely handle the reins. Nobody will be permitted to fight a duel over you. And you certainly won’t be in need of rescue.”
“Won’t I?”
“Not while I’m in attendance.”
“Then I shall have to evade you.”
“Hah. You may try, but you will fail. There will be no scandal, no intrigue, and no kissing of rakes in moonlit gardens. Do I make myself quite clear?”
At that moment he was so very dragon-like that she almost believed smoke might rise from his nostrils and if he opened his mouth, she would see razor-sharp teeth waiting to make a meal of her.
Amsonia had willed herself not to tremble in the presence ofthe Dread Dragon, and Ana must do the same. “It’s all very clear to me, Your Grace.” She raised her chin, meeting his gaze. “You don’t want me to have any fun at all. You will make balls as entertaining as sitting across from you listening to your deafening silence at the dinner table.”
“I’m sorry that my presence is so distasteful to you.” He rose from his chair and gave her a perfunctory bow. “I’ll trouble you no longer.”