A strange sensation rippled through his chest and changed the rhythm of his heart. A masculine possessiveness rose inside him. He wasn’t ready to part her company.
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Stockton. I trust I can count on you to remain a gentleman about this incident and keep my secret.”
“It’s our secret, my lady, and it is safe with me.”
She seemed to adjust her shoulders slightly in frustration because he hadn’t said exactly what she wanted, but then she lifted her chin in acceptance. “Since you have traveled the world, I assume you have knowledge of a great number of subjects. I have a question for you, Mr. Stockton. If you don’t mind?”
That intrigued him. “You can ask me anything, Lady Kitson.”
She held her hands together tightly in front of her. “If you wanted to hide something in your house that you didn’t want anyone else to see, something important. Where would you put it?”
Garrett’s gaze held fast to hers. What did she have that was important enough to hide? Jewels? Money? “That depends. How big is this something I would want to conceal?”
She’d tried to sound casual, but the way her eyes narrowed when she glanced away from him showed that she was serious about this. Garrett wondered what she was up to.
Giving her full attention back to him, she answered, “Rather small, I should think. Letters, documents. That sort of thing.”
That made him even more curious. What kind of documents could a duke’s daughter-in-law want hidden? Property she didn’t want him to know she had seemed the most reasonable thing.
“I’d probably put them in a leather pouch and bind it tightly to keep out moisture. A good place to stash something small is in a secret compartment under the floor. Cover it with a rug and then place a large piece of furniture on top of it. Another good place would be behind a wall of books on a high shelf, or if there are a lot of books in the room you could even cut out the pages and hide the items inside a very dull volume on the chemical sciences.”
Her quizzical gaze connected with his again. “Yes, all of these sound very clever. What about a false-bottomed or secret drawer in a desk?”
“That would work.” He nodded. “But it would probably be the first place someone would look. If you are going to hide something, you need to make it difficult to get to. Usually, people who are looking for an object have very little time. The harder you make it for them, the better.”
“Yes. I see what you mean. Thank you for sharing your insights on this with me.”
Lady Kitson smiled at him and Garrett’s stomach tightened. “Do you need my help with something, Lady Kitson?”
Her lashes fluttered and she took in a deep breath before she spoke. “No, not at all.”
Garrett knew she wasn’t as convinced she didn’t need him as she indicated. He didn’t want to pressure her, but asked again, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course,” she responded more confidently. “I was just wondering for no particular reason. Now I really must bid you good day, sir.”
He bowed.
Garrett watched Lady Kitson hurry toward the governess. She stopped and quickly donned a wide-brimmed straw hat, taking time to shove wayward strands of her hair beneath it before making a hasty bow with the ribbons under her chin. She then turned and looked back at him, causing another surge of wanting to tighten in his lower body. He hadn’t expected her to give him any more consideration but was glad she had. He tipped his hat to her and turned away.
He didn’t imagine the way she looked at him. She was as attracted to him as he was to her. Though her words didn’t bear that out, he’d felt it as surely as he could feel the wind in his hair when a storm was brewing at sea. Yet she’d made no indication she’d welcome his attentions.
He couldn’t blame her for being cautious about him. Probably none of the things she’d heard about him would woo a sensible lady. Why would a jewel like her want to get involved with a man who was known for being gone a year at a stretch, or sometimes longer? She had a son and would be looking for stability in a man.
Garrett felt the tug of desire again. His body was eager, but his mind ruled. He didn’t want just any woman. He wanted one who was brave enough to climb a tree and turn down his attentions when he knew she wanted them.
The saddle creaked as he put his foot into the stirrup and climbed onto the back of the horse. He turned the mare around and headed back toward the tree.
Being a rogue had its benefits. Garrett would see Lady Kitson again, and propriety be damned.
Chapter 3
From her bedchamber, Julia heard boyish squeals, laughter, and the sound of small feet running down the hallway. Bigger footsteps followed, and then more delightful shrieks. Sometimes Miss Periwinkle acted as young as Chatwyn. He was supposed to be learning his letters and numbers, but clearly the young governess didn’t yet have control of her charge. He was teaching her—to neglect her duties.
Which made Julia realize she was forgetting hers. She tapped the freshly trimmed quill into the ink jar and turned her concentration back to the sheet of foolscap in front of her. Promising to write the duke a few words each day about what she and Chatwyn were doing was a small price to pay for the precious freedom to be in London without the duke so she could search for his secret documents. It would be so much easier if she knew in which room they were hidden. She assumed his private book room was the most likely place and was concentrating her efforts there, but really they could be hidden anywhere.
She bent over to sign her name and the feather of the quill tickled under her chin, instantly reminding her of Mr. Stockton’s light touch at the back of her neck when they were in the tree. For those few moments in his arms she had forgotten her fear of falling to the ground—and her fear of the duke. The only thing she’d been aware of was her need to feel the rogue’s lips on hers.
The heat had been stifling, and her heart had pounded at the possibility of his kiss. After four years, Mr. Stockton was the first man to have her thinking about testing the duke’s directive that she restrain from any man’s attentions. According to the duke, shunning all men was the only proper way for Julia to mourn her husband. It was what he expected from her—if she wanted to remain in her son’s life. And that was what she’d done since her husband died.
But Mr. Stockton didn’t have her feeling proper. She wasn’t even feeling like a widow. His brief touch made her feel as eager for attention as a young belle attending her first ball. Why he was the first man she was attracted to since Kitson, Julia had no idea. She only knew he stirred and provoked her passions in a way she couldn’t deny and hadn’t wanted to ignore.
She wanted to experience and explore once again the inexplicable delight that occurred when a man and woman came together for intimate pleasure, and she wanted to do it with Mr. Stockton. There was no doubt she’d caught his eye, too. She’d felt the current of awareness that passed between them when they looked at each other a little too long. She’d felt the tremble of desire in his body when her breasts pressed against his chest and his arms tightened around her waist. She’d been so tempted to allow the kiss, and she was certain he knew it. Even thinking of the possibility of it caused an erratic beating of her heart.