《Dancing with the Viscount (The Howertys Prequel Novella)》Chapter 4: Garden Stroll
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A light breeze sent a lock of hair across Amelia's face and tickled her nose. Pushing it back, she glanced up at Leighton—no, Preston—as they ambled through the dark garden, her hand on his arm. While hanging lanterns provided some light, the darkness prevailed where their flames could not quite reach. It felt almost like a different world out there, away from the crush of the ballroom and with the whispers of other couples around them, some she could not even see.
"I've never been out in the garden during a ball before," she admitted.
Preston scoffed. "I certainly hope so."
She'd never ventured further outside than a balcony or terrace until now, never having felt the need to risk her reputation by going for a stroll with anyone. Preston's response, however, sparked her playfulness. Grabbing his arm a little tighter, she tilted her head to look up at his profile in the semi-darkness. "It feels almost forbidden. Like anything can happen out here."
The narrowing of his eyes implied he did not like the direction of their discussion. "You should never allow a gentleman to take you to the garden unless you are happy to chance whether he will try to kiss you. Which could be devastating for your reputation."
"Not every man would take liberties simply because a lady agrees to take the air." She rolled her eyes at the ridiculous notion.
"You'd be surprised." Preston turned his head to look at her. "Do not risk it. You are the daughter of a duke. The scandal would quickly travel through all of London."
"True," she agreed with a slight smile. "But because I am the daughter of a duke, once safely married, no one would dare say another word about it."
"Just—" He cut himself short and sighed. "Just be careful. I know you have your sights set on Pensington, but you should not even walk like this with him if you wish to remain safe. He is an honourable man and would do nothing to risk your reputation, but he is rather popular among the ladies and all it takes is one vicious rumour from a jealous rival and your reputation will be tarnished."
"That seems rather unfair." She pursed her lips in thought. "What if I want Pensington to kiss me? Then can I join him for a walk in a dark garden?"
"No!"
The vehement exclamation made her jump, and she turned her head to stare at him. He wasn't looking at her, his gaze trained on a couple further into the garden. His dark brows were drawn and the corners of his mouth strained.
Glancing at her, he cleared his throat and visibly relaxed. "As I said, you should join no one out here, ideally."
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She couldn't resist a teasing grin. "But I am out here with you right now." Looking around, she made sure no one was watching them before slipping in between the trees into a darkened section of the garden, then she turned to see Preston glaring after her.
"Brilliant," he muttered. A quick glance around, then he stepped into the relative darkness with her. "What are you playing at?" he complained. "If anyone catches us like this, there will be hell to pay."
She chuckled. "Then maybe you shouldn't have followed me."
"Yes," he replied sarcastically, "because it would have made much more sense for people to see me standing there talking to a tree."
"Are you worried about your reputation?" she teased.
He took a step closer, and with his tall form so near, it made her realise how small the space between the trees was and how intimate it felt. She could see little but his outline against the lighter path on the other side of the trees. The scent of sandalwood enveloped her as he leaned down,
"I am not worried about my reputation," he said, close enough that she could feel his hot breath on her face. Suddenly he was no longer the safe friend of her brother she had always thought of him as, but a man of flesh and blood. A very handsome one. "But you ought to be. You are currently hiding in the garden with a rake."
She scoffed, but didn't feel as confident as she pretended. Not that she thought Preston would ever do anything against her will. Or at all, really. He had shown no interest in her. Always aloof around her, treating her as his friend's annoying little sister. Which, she supposed, she was.
"You may be a rake," she said. "But we both know you would never risk my reputation."
"I am risking your reputation right now."
"That is not what I meant." She huffed. "I mean, you would never kiss me. In fact, I doubt you would ever consider it."
He pulled back, straightening to his full height. "What makes you say that?"
If only she could have seen his face. There was a quality to his voice she could not discern, and being able to see him might have helped. She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Well... You are Adrian's best friend. Naturally, you would never risk your friendship with him, nor the wrath of my father and Richmond. Also, I suspect I am not your type. You have never shown me any interest beyond indulgence when I tried to join you and Adrian in your activities."
A sharp bark of laughter interrupted her, and she scowled at her companion. "What is so amusing?"
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He shook his head. "Nothing. It is nothing."
"I do not appreciate being laughed at."
There was a glint of what she suspected were his teeth in the dim light. "I was not laughing at you. And besides, you jest and tease and act the fool far too much to not enjoy being laughed at."
"Not the same," she muttered, still rankled by his surprise laughter. It was one thing to have people laughing at her when she was trying to be amusing, quite another when she was only speaking the truth.
"Fair enough." His voice was warm in the darkness, soothing her indignation.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "So, will you tell me what you found so amusing?"
Silence greeted her question, and he shifted from one foot to the other. A shadowy arm came up to scratch at the hair behind his ear as he turned slightly to glance out to the garden. Was he looking for an escape or ensuring no one else was near?
"Preston?"
His name made him turn back to her. "It matters little, Amelia," he said. "It merely surprised me that is how you see me."
"As my brother's friend?"
Another moment of silence, then a quiet, "Yes."
What was he not telling her? She did not enjoy being left in the dark. "Am I so wrong in judging your character?" she asked. "Am I to believe you are rake enough to compromise your best friend's sister?"
"Of course not!" He stepped closer to her, his frustration clear in the way he moved, his hand coming back to run his fingers through his hair. "I would never risk your reputation."
She tilted her head to stare at him in the darkness, even if she could barely see his features. "Then what?"
Another step closer, their bodies indecently close in the small space. For a moment she thought he might lean down and kiss her, though she could not fathom where that idea came from. Preston was a rake, and she was far from the type of woman he usually went for.
"Why are you still unmarried?" His question surprised her.
"No one has caught my interest," she said. "I could have sworn I told you this. None of my suitors have been someone I could envision myself spending the rest of my life with."
"But you can with Pensington?"
She nodded, even though she knew it was all a dream she had created for herself. The marquess did not know her well enough, and she did not know him well enough. But he was the only one she did not immediately want to dismiss. Other than possibly Preston. She pushed the unbidden thought away. It was not something she had ever considered. Preston was Adrian's friend. Preston usually found her a nuisance. Preston stood far too close to her in a dark garden...
"Why have you not married?" she asked, cursing the breathlessness of her voice.
"I..." He raked a hand through his hair. "I will one day, but I am in no rush."
"So no young lady has caught your interest?" she teased. "You are no better than I am."
"At least I have not set my sights on an unsuspecting target intending to make them mine."
She huffed, offended by the implication. "It is not as if I can force Lord Pensington if he does not wish to marry me. I am not a fool, Preston. I want him to court me so I can see if we might be a good fit. If not, I will obviously not push forward with this. But he is the only suitable gentleman currently that I feel remotely interests me. And currently, he has shown no interest... Hence me asking for your help."
He looked ready to say something, even raised his hand. Then he let it fall to his side and he sighed. "Very well. I shall do my very best to act the lovesick puppy following you to make the marquess jealous."
She scowled at him, even if he most likely couldn't see it. "If you truly do not wish to help me, then you may stop."
"Really?" he drawled. "That is not the impression you've been giving me. I thought I was locked in by this promise."
Annoyed by his reticence, she pushed past him. "Fine!" she snapped. "You are released from your promise!"
His hand shot out and caught her arm, pulling her back towards him. He towered over her as she stared up into his shadowed face, their nearness making her breathing shallow, and she could feel the heat of his body so close to hers.
"I will do it," he growled. "I will do my best to see you find your happily ever after with Pensington, but do not expect me to act happy about it."
"Why not?" she breathed.
As he leaned closer still, she thought she might have stopped breathing, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Silence stretched out between them as they looked at each other in the dusk. With a frustrated grunt, he stepped back and released her.
"Go back inside," he said, his tone curt. "Before we are discovered, and you are forced to marry the wrong person."
For a moment, she could do little but stare at the dark shadow in front of her. Then she turned on her heel and hurried back to the ballroom. What had just happened? Had he been about to kiss her? Even worse, did she want him to kiss her?
~~~~~~
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