Page 42 of The Duke of Deceit

“Or that she’s not.”

He shook his head at her obstinacy and once again kicked out his long legs. And once again, Jess became aware of how large his presence was in this small space of the secret bower around them, how the masculine scent of him mixed with the earthy scents of the garden and enveloped her like a morning fog. Adeliciousfog.

“It isn’t your responsibility to fix this situation for your sister,” he said quietly, suddenly serious.

“Yes, it is.” Jess broke off one of the small branches overhead. “We don’t have any male relatives to defend us.” She laid it on her lap and stripped off one of the small leaves. “Our father left us several years ago. He was never the same after Mama passed away.” Then she tried to lighten the conversation by turning it back on him. “As you know, some men aren’t meant for domesticity and children.”

She didn’t glance up from the twig as she tore off another leaf, but she could feel his curious gaze on her.

“What did you do to survive?”

She shrugged away his concern. “We made do.”

“Jessamyn.” He took her chin and gently turned her head to look at him. His solemn expression told her he’d brook no dissembling.

“Thanks to Auntie, we weren’t destitute by any means and still firmly ensconced in the middle-class.”

“I didn’t mean finances.”

No, he didn’t. She could see that. In the dappled sunlight, only concern showed on his face, but how far could she trust him? “Do you really care about the plight of half-grown children?”

“More than anyone would believe,” he murmured and softly stroked his thumb along her jaw. “What did you do?”

She closed her eyes beneath the unexpected comfort of his gentle touch. “Aunt Matilda had come to live with us when Mama died, when we were only ten and eight. She had inherited a bit of money from her late brother—not much, but enough to lease a decent house for us, pay for school, and keep us in fashionable clothes. Papa didn’t really care what we did as long as we didn’t cause problems.” Or complain about his drunkenness and wastrel’s existence, or demand anything at all from him except to be left alone. In that, he was exemplary.

“Your father didn’t remarry to give you a new mother?”

“There was no point.” Nor was there a woman in her right mind who would have taken him for a husband. “We had Auntie, and we had each other.”

“But he left.” Lucien’s voice was a soft as the warm summer air tickling at her bare arms and neck. “Why?”

Because I criticized him and drove him away…But she wouldnevertell him that. Instead, she dissembled, “A spinster aunt and two opinionated daughters freshly out of the schoolroom with sharp tongues and a desperation to find their places in the world, his eldest possessing too much fire for his comfort…” She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, then came as close to admitting the truth as she dared. “What man wouldn’t want to leave a household like that?”

“A damn fool.”

His concern for her nearly undid her. So did the way he cupped her cheek with his large palm and gently tilted up her face as his gaze dropped to her mouth.

“I like your fire, Jessamyn,” he murmured and rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “It doesn’t drive me away. It only intrigues me more.”

She held her breath even as her heart jumped into her throat. He was going to kiss her again, she knew, and this time, it wouldn’t be one of those fluttery almost-kisses which were all he’d dared to take on the terrace. This time, there was no one to see them beneath the willow tree, and she knew he planned on taking the kinds of kisses they’d been denied before. Electric tingles of anticipation and apprehension battled as they raced down her spine, and she trembled.

The corners of his mouth turned up in an amused smile at her reaction when he wasn’t even kissing her yet. Then he leaned toward her to do exactly that—

“Is it true?” she asked suddenly, just as his lips were about to touch hers.

He froze, but every word he whispered tickled warmly against her lips. “Is what true?”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “Were you really a mercenary in the wars?”

Chapter Thirteen

Lucien’s heart stuttered,but he carefully kept his face neutral so she couldn’t know how much her unexpected question had stunned him, the softness of it ripping through him like a blade.

Slowly, he leaned away from her and dropped his hand from her cheek.

“Ah, yes,” he murmured as he studied her face. “I was wondering when you would get to that.” To keep his hands busy so he wouldn’t grab her and kiss her senseless to dissipate all those terrible suspicions of him, he reached slowly for the willow branch on her lap. For once, he hated the idea that she thought him nothing but the blackguard and rakehell he’d falsely portrayed to the world. “But don’t you want to start with my younger days and find out why I was expelled from university?”

“Not really. You were heir to a duke, young, and reckless. I’m not at all surprised you were expelled.”