The Duke Is Mine - Eloisa James [62]
The sound of her laughter filtered down through the leaves, but Quin had already taken his coat off. He pulled himself in one smooth lunge onto the lowest branches. She was heading up again, so he maneuvered himself until he was below her and could catch her if she fell.
Which gave him a clear look up her skirts. She had one leg flung over a branch, and he saw a scarlet garter, and above it, a creamy thigh. His heart gave one ferocious thump and then settled into a faster rhythm.
For a moment he couldn’t even breathe. Olivia’s stockings were white silk and ended just below her knee. Above he could see a delicate line of lace . . . her smalls, he had to suppose.
Interesting. He hadn’t known that ladies wore undergarments of that sort. Evangeline hadn’t.
A wry thought flashed through his mind: Evangeline wouldn’t have cared to waste the time. He dismissed the idea as beneath him.
“Miss Lytton, I can see your legs,” he called, realizing as the words came from his mouth that the observation was also beneath him.
Olivia froze. But she had just thrown her weight onto that leg. So she pulled herself up on the next branch, almost slipping, but catching herself. Once on her feet again, securely holding on, she frowned down at him. “Peering up a lady’s skirts is not the act of a gentleman.”
“I’m not sure but that climbing a tree disqualifies one for the title of gentleman—or, I might as well add, lady.” He nimbly pulled himself onto the branch she had just deserted. “How much higher are you going? This tree won’t take my weight above the height where you are now.”
She pointed. The kite hung just out of her reach, caught by a loop of string. Quin tested the branch she stood on. “Move onto that branch next to your foot,” he ordered. “I’m coming up.”
Olivia hopped over to a nearby branch, as steady as if she were on ground. A second later Quin stood beside her. Up close, he could see that she was flushed with exertion, her bosom moving up and down. The bodice of her habit was made of fine linen, and her breasts strained against the cloth.
His hand clenched on the branch above their heads. Hopefully, she wouldn’t glance at his breeches. “How can you climb a tree with a corset and all those petticoats?”
Her eyes shone with mischief. “It’s a secret.”
He leaned back against a handy limb, knees feeling a bit weak. “I am very good at keeping secrets.”
“No corset,” she said, half whispering, half laughing. “I learned long ago that it is simply impossible to climb a tree while wearing a corset. Not that I had tree climbing in mind when I dressed today. But I thought it was possible that flying a kite was a rather energetic sport as well. And it has certainly proved to be so.”
“Just when did climbing trees become part of a lady’s education?”
“The first time my mother put me on a reducing diet,” she said, wrinkling her nose.
He frowned. “A diet?”
“I need to lose weight. I have ever since I was the tender age of thirteen, actually. Perhaps even a bit younger.”
“No, you don’t. I disagree.”
“Well, I think I do. Your mother agrees, given the precept oft repeated in The Mirror: ‘Virtue’s livery is a comely shape.’ As does,” she said consideringly, “most of the ton, given the number of slimming tips that have been whispered to me in ladies’ retiring rooms.”
The cruelty of Olivia being taught to loathe an aspect of herself that—to be frank—he thought was perfect made his heart feel as if something had broken loose inside. He straightened, leaned toward her. Her head angled instinctively, and their mouths met, hot and sweet, breath fast from the climb, or perhaps just proximity . . . She tasted like sunshine and grass. Like happiness.
Careful, he moved closer, not breaking the kiss, then leaned against the trunk of the tree and pulled her into his arms, being sure not to break her hold on the branch at shoulder level. “Olivia,” he murmured against her mouth. “What’s my name?”
She opened heavy-lidded eyes. “What did you say?”
“My name,” he said, and then couldn’t wait, snatching an openmouthed kiss, a silken mating of