A smile tugged at her lips. The low table was the only furniture near their play area, and it held several crystal decanters of liquor. Different types since their colors ranged from amber, red, and dark brown. Her gaze scanned the room, searching for the duke. When she found him, Pippa pressed her hand to her chest, wondering at the fast yet delicate way it pounded. The duke lay on the carpet near the merrily crackling fire, several cushions behind his head and shoulders, and atop the man was about five wolfhound puppies. Pippa could not credit her eyes. Stranger still, the duke seemed to be sleeping. A few of the puppies slumbered, and two danced over the muscles of his chest, nipping at his chin and licking his face.
Pippa giggled when he grabbed one of the puppies and bit him back. The puppy took that as a sign for more vigorous romping and tail
wagging. She had never seen such a sight! The duke’s eyes snapped open at her low laugh, and upon seeing her, a smile curved his lips—one of sin and decadence.
“Walking on the wild side, are we?”
Something wicked, heated, and undefinable stirred inside her then. She stumbled back, almost scared at the intensity of feelings.
Love…is this love? This need to fling myself in his arms and kiss him without reservations, to lay atop him as the puppies did? To tell him of my day and ask him about his?
He pushed the puppies off him and settled them one by one in the center of a few cushions. The care he touched them with indicated a deep love. He scratched one of the puppy's belly, and it flattened its ears and lolled its tongue out gratefully. The duke laughed—the rich, low sound striking her heart with a weakening blow, and at that moment, Pippa fell in love with Christopher Worth, the Duke of Carlyle. A sensation she had never felt before wrapped itself around her heart, before invading it with pure warmth and happiness.
Acting on impulse, she went over, knelt, and scooped up the furry little creature, hugging it close to her. "I've never had a pet before! How adorable they are." The pup wriggled from her arm, and with a delighted laugh, she let it go.
The duke stood and held out his hand, assisting her up.
“I’m leaving for New York,” she blurted, unable to understand why that was the first thing she said.
The duke had faltered into stillness, a denial flashing in the piercing silver of his eyes. “When?” he asked softly.
They stood too close, and she took several steps toward the window she’d climbed through. “Fourteen days.”
He considered this before asking, “And will you return?”
“Yes…but I do not know when. Perhaps a month or more.”
They stared at each other in the silence that settled in the library. He took a deep breath, and to her mind, there was a hint of forlornness in the sound.
Why did she feel so horribly vulnerable? “Did you…” she spread her arms wide to encompass the room. “Did you know I would come?”
"I hoped. My library has been in this state for days," he said gruffly. "Do not leave. I must wash my hands." He gathered the wriggling puppies, and then with clipped strides, he exited the room closing the door behind him softly.
Oh, what am I doing? She had hurtled herself impetuously to his home, and now she was confounded as to why she was truly present. Pippa turned toward the window, but her retreat was halted by the return of the duke. This time when the door closed there was a distinct snick. “I’m not sure why I am here,” she said.
“To play chess of course.”
She looked helplessly at him. Then Pippa removed the beaver hat and rested it on the desk with her cane.
“The wig too, I want to see your glorious hair.”
He shot a challenging look at her, which she met with a faint smile. But she slowly removed the wig, resting it with her other things. Appreciative warmth lit in his eyes, and she held herself still while he came over to her. He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers, and for a moment, she savored the wonderful caress. How was it possible to reach the age of two and twenty and never felt such delight from simply touching another?
“You are very beautiful, Pippa.”
She deeply breathed in the warm, scented breezed that wafted gently in through the window behind her, hoping to settle her composure.
“Come now, my admiration and sentiments cannot be unknown to you.”
“And what sentiments are those?” she asked bravely.
He stepped back, giving her breathing space she hadn’t realized she needed.
There was a good deal of amusement in his eyes as they rested on her face. “I like you,” he said. “Now let’s play chess.”
She tried to speak but dared not trust her voice. Instead, she lowered herself onto the carpet before the chess board. He sat opposite her and poured drinks into two glasses. She took the one he offered. "Whisky again?"
He smiled. “Bourbon.”