Regency Surrender: Scandal And Deception. Marguerite Kaye
would be highly improper, Hartwick,’ Sarah said, ‘since His Grace is in his shirtsleeves.’
‘Sarah! Honestly...’ chided Katrina, narrowing her eyes at her friend.
Julian turned to Hartwick. ‘So when I finally do something improper this is how you react?’
Hartwick raised his hands in surrender. ‘We are only trying to be accommodating. So, I think we have determined the reason why it’s improper for men to be seen in their shirtsleeves by ladies.’
Katrina turned to Hartwick. ‘No, we have not. Sarah and I are completely composed.’
‘Well, I am anyway,’ muttered her traitorous friend.
‘What other rules can we test today?’ asked Hartwick eagerly. ‘Is there some article of clothing you are not supposed to remove in our presence? I am open to suggestions.’
‘You rake!’ replied Katrina, laughing. ‘Are you trying to get us to show you our ankles?’
‘Your hair,’ Julian said suddenly.
All three turned to him, and he shrugged.
‘A lady’s hair is usually pinned up.’
Hartwick sat up. ‘That’s the spirit. We are in our shirtsleeves and you owe us a boon. I think Julian has a fine idea. You ladies should take down your hair and Julian and I will see if we can resist you.’
Sarah eyed Hartwick. ‘Suppose you lose your senses and your over-amorous nature overcomes you?’
‘That’s what Julian is here for. He is forever proper.’
‘He is sitting here in his shirtsleeves,’ Katrina pointed out sceptically as she eyed him up and down.
‘Oh, please... He has so much restraint that even if his life depended on it he would never touch you. He is the epitome of the proper English aristocrat,’ Hartwick said, with sarcasm in his voice.
Julian turned to his friend. ‘You speak as if being responsible and acting honourably is a bad thing. Maybe you would find yourself in less trouble if you tried it.’
Katrina peered through the lowest hanging branches towards Sarah’s barouche. ‘What do you think the footmen will say if they see us like this?’
‘Do not fret. No one can see us,’ replied Hartwick as he chewed on a long piece of grass.
‘Why do I believe you have said that before?’ Katrina muttered.
‘Why, Miss Vandenberg, I am offended,’ Hartwick said, bringing his hand to his chest. ‘I think there is a bit of fire in you.’
She turned to Julian. ‘Was that a compliment?’
The enticing man with the broad shoulders shrugged. ‘It’s difficult to tell.’
‘Of course it was a compliment. A lady with a bit of fire in her is much more enjoyable than a milksop.’
‘You thought I was a milksop?’
‘No. As I said, you have a bit of fire in you. Miss Forrester, on the other hand, is infinitely boring.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘You are only saying that because I did not swoon when you removed your coat.’
‘No. For that, I think you may need spectacles. But we are getting away from the point. I believe Julian challenged you ladies to take down your hair?’
‘It was hardly a challenge. I was simply curious.’
‘I am trying to help facilitate your request,’ Hartwick replied impatiently. ‘Perhaps you could persuade the ladies. They seem to trust you more than me.’
‘I can’t imagine why,’ muttered Katrina.
Sarah cleared her throat, catching their attention. ‘I believe we are testing theories today. Katrina, please remove the pins from your hair.’ Sarah began to arrange her own hairpins on the skirt of her cinnamon-coloured gown. ‘We can easily re-pin each other shortly.’
Hartwick laughed out loud. ‘Well done, Miss Forrester.’ He made a show of studying her. ‘Now, what colour is that, exactly?’ His eyes dropped to his mud-splattered boots and he smiled. ‘Oh, I know. You hair is an earthy colour.’
‘It is chestnut, Hartwick,’ Sarah said, shaking out her hair. ‘A gleaming, glossy chestnut. Which you would realise if you weren’t so self-absorbed,’ she teased.
‘I am self-absorbed? How many times today have you admired your slippers?’
‘What has that to do with anything? I like my new slippers.’
‘Apparently so. Julian, have you seen anyone look at their feet...?’
* * *
The moment Katrina removed one pin from her hair Julian was transfixed. He watched as little by little ringlets of golden silk cascaded past her neck, down her back, and over the slope of her breasts.
Many nights he had pictured her in his bed with her hair down, and he had wondered how long it was. Would it cover her breasts if she rode him? Would it bounce against the small of her back as he took her from behind? Now he knew that the ends of her hair curled against the lower curves of her breasts. His mouth began to water as he imagined the feel of her hair against his cheek as he slid his tongue along those breasts...
Before he was aware of what he was doing, he slid his fingers into the soft strands. Everything around them fell away, and the only thing that mattered was the woman next to him. He kissed her softly and she placed her hand on his chest. He deepened the kiss, certain she must feel his heart and soul pounding against her hand.
‘I thought you said he was always proper?’ Miss Forrester’s voice broke the silence.
‘He was until he met your friend,’ Hart replied.
‘Maybe it’s your influence.’
‘I’ve tried for years to get him to follow his desires. This is none of my doing.’
‘I don’t believe they should be doing that, even with us in attendance.’
‘It is just a kiss.’
‘That is not just a kiss, Hartwick.’
‘No. I suppose you are correct, Miss Forrester. That definitely is not just a kiss.’
It was the last thing he wanted to do, but Julian managed to pull his head back. Katrina buried her face in his shoulder and he rubbed his cheek against her soft hair.
‘We can hear you.’ His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.
‘We know,’ Hart said, taking a sip of wine.
It had taken all his restraint to leave his hand on Katrina’s jaw and not move it to any other part of her body. He was finally able to position one of his legs to hide the strain in his breeches. How could he have kissed her in front of Hart and Miss Forrester? How could the simple act of her taking down her hair have made him so excited? When could he get her alone to continue what they’d started?
‘Don’t you think it would be a good idea to show Miss Forrester the view?’ he suggested to Hart.
His friend smirked at him. ‘I have already done so.’
‘Perhaps she hasn’t seen all that this hill has to offer.’
‘I believe I have seen quite a bit of what this hill has to offer,’ Miss Forrester said dryly, raising her glass to her lips.
‘Do the two of you have something important to tell us?’ Hart said, as he crossed his legs in front of him and rocked his boots from side to side. ‘You have kissed each other in front of Miss Forrester and me. Should I be requesting pistols at dawn to defend Miss Vandenberg’s honour?’
Julian was about to chastise