Every Time We Kiss

Miss Marston turned toward him with a shy smile. “Would you like to keep it, my lord?”

Matthew felt a mix of emotions warring through his head. While he wanted to keep it as a memento of Jennette’s talent, he knew he should want it as a sketch of the woman who just might become his bride.

“I would love to keep it,” he muttered.

Miss Marston shivered as she tied her bonnet under her chin. “My goodness, it is becoming quite cool.”

“We should return to the house. Lady Aston has a luncheon planned once everyone gets back from the hunt.” Matthew pulled his greatcoat closer.

“Lady Jennette, will you accompany us?” Miss Marston asked.

Jennette let out a small sigh as she looked down at her dirty hands. “I suppose I should change before the luncheon.”

“Lord Blackburn, you must help Lady Jennette with her things.”

Matthew nodded. “Of course.”

“I do not need any assistance,” Jennette said hurriedly. She shuffled her papers and placed her charcoal pencil into a small box. “You two should go on. I will be along in a moment.”

Miss Marston started to walk the garden path but something held Matthew immobile.

“Go on,” Jennette insisted.

“Let me help you.”

He reached for her stack of papers but she held them tightly against her chest.

“N—no,” she stammered. “Go ahead without me.”

He had no idea what could be making her appear so nervous. It finally dawned on him. She must be expecting Ancroft and wanted to be alone with him.

She leaned down to pick up her pencil case as a swift gust of wind whipped around them. Several of the papers she’d been holding blew out of her grasp.

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, doing her best to step on them before they were picked up again by the wind.

“Here,” he said, reaching for some.

“No! Don’t touch them!”

Ignoring her, he grabbed the closest papers. Turning them over, he gasped.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

He stared down at the sketch of his face looking back at him. “When did you…?”

?

?Give it back to me,” she nearly shouted.

Instead of responding, he stared at her, raising one eyebrow in question.

“It was nothing,” she said. “Just something to pass the time.”

“Of course.” Pleasure coursed through his body with the thought that, of all the people she might have sketched out here alone, she chose him.

In that brief moment, he knew she was as affected by him as he was by her. And he’d never felt so conflicted in all his life. Just down the path stood a woman obviously pleased that he’d chosen to court her. While directly in front of him stood a woman who appeared to have no interest in marriage to him, but fascinated him for all the wrong reasons. He handed the sketch to Jennette and turned toward Mary.

He knew in what direction he was headed.