back from her, breaking off the kiss and allowing her some much-needed oxygen to clear her brain. She still clung to him as the world spun around her.
"I quite agree with you, Miss Langley," he said when her eyes drifted open just enough to gaze up at him. "Conversation is highly overrated. I shall rely on action whenever possible now."
It took a moment to collect her thoughts and put words into some sense of order. And her voice? It took another moment longer to find that.
"If you rely on actions like those, sir, you will have Miss Vandenhoff swooning at your feet in no time. Just as you hoped, she'll be begging to attach her fortune to your title."
His classical brow furrowed and for a moment he appeared confused. "Her fortune with my title? But I—"
The nearby bark of a dog startled them both. His arms tightened around her but she could turn her head enough to see a black and white collie dog trotting up the sloping hillside toward them. She recognized the animal immediately and knew the dog's owner could not be far behind.
Realization of where she was and what she was doing slammed into her and she pushed herself away from the earl. He let her go but the confusion on his face only deepened. It took but a moment to be replaced by understanding once a man's form could be seen coming into view on the path alongside the stream below them. The earl swore under his breath and stepped away from her.
The dog raced ahead of her master and came to dance around the two on the ridge. The man below waved and called out a greeting. M ariah steadied herself and waved at him. He began heading their way.
The collie nuzzled Dovington's leg as he patted its head. His smoldering glance toward Mariah made her suddenly dizzy. She'd best douse any lingering heat immediately, before their guest might reach them and notice.
"This is Bess," she said, indicating the dog. "And that is her master, Mr. Ben Skrewd. He is our curate."
Chapter 12
So he'd very nearly been discovered by the local curate, manhandling Miss Langley and enjoying every moment of it? Well, thank heavens for barking dogs, Dovington supposed . Truth be told, though, he would have much rather been un interrupted altogether. When Miss Langley said she preferred action to conversation, she hadn't been lying. Her eager response had been all the conversation he needed to know this was not going to be the last time he got the woman into his arms.
For now, though, he'd best get his mind off that and behave in a civilized manner. The young curate had been introduced as Mr. Skrewd and he seemed amiable enough. Perhaps even too much, as it seemed he and Miss Langley were on very friendly terms.
They joined the rest of the group and for a time all attention was on the simple, but very nicely done, chalk sketch that Miss Renford had been creating. Ned was, perhaps, being overly effusive in his praise of the girl's talent, but Dovington would not fault him for that. Anything that might give reason to Miss Vanderhoff for approving of Ned's behavior was commendable.
The pleasantries and chatter went on far longer than the earl could manage, though. His focus was continually wandering off to consider the soft curves of Miss Langley's form, the elegant arc of her neck and the recollection of just how enticing those elements had been in his arms, under his touch. Her full lips were still pink with the glow from his kiss and he could barely take his eyes from them.
When he finally was distracted from her it was to realize she'd been asking him a question.
"Will you, my lord?" she repeated.
His first instinct was to consent to whatever she might be asking him, but good sense won out and he thought he might do well to at least clarify first.
"I... er, will I what?"
"Attend our ball," she replied, her eyes flashing and her voice clipped.
A ball? Good God, was that what the group had been rambling about? He must have been much deeper in thought than he'd known. The last thing he
"I quite agree with you, Miss Langley," he said when her eyes drifted open just enough to gaze up at him. "Conversation is highly overrated. I shall rely on action whenever possible now."
It took a moment to collect her thoughts and put words into some sense of order. And her voice? It took another moment longer to find that.
"If you rely on actions like those, sir, you will have Miss Vandenhoff swooning at your feet in no time. Just as you hoped, she'll be begging to attach her fortune to your title."
His classical brow furrowed and for a moment he appeared confused. "Her fortune with my title? But I—"
The nearby bark of a dog startled them both. His arms tightened around her but she could turn her head enough to see a black and white collie dog trotting up the sloping hillside toward them. She recognized the animal immediately and knew the dog's owner could not be far behind.
Realization of where she was and what she was doing slammed into her and she pushed herself away from the earl. He let her go but the confusion on his face only deepened. It took but a moment to be replaced by understanding once a man's form could be seen coming into view on the path alongside the stream below them. The earl swore under his breath and stepped away from her.
The dog raced ahead of her master and came to dance around the two on the ridge. The man below waved and called out a greeting. M ariah steadied herself and waved at him. He began heading their way.
The collie nuzzled Dovington's leg as he patted its head. His smoldering glance toward Mariah made her suddenly dizzy. She'd best douse any lingering heat immediately, before their guest might reach them and notice.
"This is Bess," she said, indicating the dog. "And that is her master, Mr. Ben Skrewd. He is our curate."
Chapter 12
So he'd very nearly been discovered by the local curate, manhandling Miss Langley and enjoying every moment of it? Well, thank heavens for barking dogs, Dovington supposed . Truth be told, though, he would have much rather been un interrupted altogether. When Miss Langley said she preferred action to conversation, she hadn't been lying. Her eager response had been all the conversation he needed to know this was not going to be the last time he got the woman into his arms.
For now, though, he'd best get his mind off that and behave in a civilized manner. The young curate had been introduced as Mr. Skrewd and he seemed amiable enough. Perhaps even too much, as it seemed he and Miss Langley were on very friendly terms.
They joined the rest of the group and for a time all attention was on the simple, but very nicely done, chalk sketch that Miss Renford had been creating. Ned was, perhaps, being overly effusive in his praise of the girl's talent, but Dovington would not fault him for that. Anything that might give reason to Miss Vanderhoff for approving of Ned's behavior was commendable.
The pleasantries and chatter went on far longer than the earl could manage, though. His focus was continually wandering off to consider the soft curves of Miss Langley's form, the elegant arc of her neck and the recollection of just how enticing those elements had been in his arms, under his touch. Her full lips were still pink with the glow from his kiss and he could barely take his eyes from them.
When he finally was distracted from her it was to realize she'd been asking him a question.
"Will you, my lord?" she repeated.
His first instinct was to consent to whatever she might be asking him, but good sense won out and he thought he might do well to at least clarify first.
"I... er, will I what?"
"Attend our ball," she replied, her eyes flashing and her voice clipped.
A ball? Good God, was that what the group had been rambling about? He must have been much deeper in thought than he'd known. The last thing he
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