‘Then do not think at all,’ he murmured, his mouth coming down on hers. He fought his own pressing desires and was gentle, undemanding and she clutched at his shoulders as his mouth moved insinuatingly on hers, drawing her deeper into the kiss.
Her response was sensual, instinctive. Shy. She is an innocent. Stop this.
Antonia clung to Marcus Renshaw, dizzily drowning in unfamiliar sensation, overwhelmed by the feeling of security his strong arms gave her. This should not make her feel secure, this was so unsafe…
Renshaw lifted his mouth from hers and looked down into her eyes. ‘I think I had better take you home. Your companion will be wondering what has become of you.’ He let go of her and she braced herself, determined not to show any weakness. It was
bad enough that she had let him kiss her, that she had responded.
The Duke held the door open for her to pass through. ‘Where is your horse?’
His abrupt return to conventional manners underscored just how improper her behaviour had been. He was a nobleman who took what he wanted. She was a lady and it was, apparently, her duty to stop him.
Antonia felt her colour rise. ‘I walked over. Your Grace, you must disregard, I beg you, my behaviour just now. I was frightened, driven by relief after such a scare. Normally I would never do such a thing.’
‘I quite understand,’ he said. ‘You are not normally in fear of headless ghouls.’
They were now on the other side of the front door. Renshaw twisted the key in the lock, then handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers momentarily as he did so. His horse was cropping the grass, its reins thrown over the branch of a tree.
‘I will walk back with you to Rye End Hall,’ he said, taking the reins in his hand.
She winced at the coolness in his voice, confused by the welter of emotions she was feeling. Yes, she supposed she had offended him by implying that the only reason she had returned his kiss was relief that he was not some vagabond – or ghoul. Would she ever live that down? – But he should never have kissed her in the first place. She had no intention of trying to make amends. After all, it was the second occasion on which he had taken liberties with her.
‘It will not be necessary for you to accompany me, Your Grace,’ she said with matching coolness.
‘I think it is.’ He fell into step beside her. ‘Even if there are no ghouls, there may well be undesirables in the woods. With no keepering on your lands, anyone could be roaming.’
Stung, Antonia snapped back, ‘Do not keep harping on my foolishness, Your Grace. Have you never read a Gothick tale and then wondered at a creak in the night?’
‘No, I have no time for such nonsense.’
In the face of such a comprehensive snub, there was little left to say. They walked without speaking along the rutted lane until they reached the gates of the Hall.
‘Goodbye, Your Grace, thank you for your concern for my property,’ she said politely, holding out her hand to him.
He accepted neither her hand, nor his dismissal. ‘If you have recovered your composure, Miss Dane, there is something I wished to speak to you about.’
‘Any loss of composure I may have suffered, Your Grace, is entirely attributable to you,’ Antonia said frostily, then realised what a double-edged remark that was.
He smiled thinly. ‘None the less, if you could spare me a moment of your time?’
‘Very well, Your Grace. We are still some minutes from the house.’
‘I do wish you would call me Marcus as Renshaw does not seem to come easily to you,’ he said in an abrupt change of mood. ‘We are, after all, near neighbours. If, that is, you are intending to stay here.’
Antonia raised her brows, ‘There is no question of my leaving, Your… Marcus. This is my family home and I intend to live here.’
She followed his gaze as it strayed over the ruins of the pleasure grounds. One deer was nibbling delicately at the remains of a rose bush.
‘It must be a powerful attachment you feel that overcomes the many disadvantages of the situation,’ he remarked.
‘What disadvantages?’ Antonia demanded.
‘To find yourself without friends, in a property that is tumbling around your ears, set amid derelict lands which can be bringing you no income. Forgive me for speaking frankly, but that appears to constitute not one but several disadvantages.’
‘The house is not tumbling about my ears. There is merely a little damp and that can soon be put right.’
Marcus nodded. Somehow she did not think it was in agreement. ‘Then no doubt it is the damp that prevents you from furnishing Rye End Hall?’