The Duke Is Mine - Eloisa James [86]
“But he could have been more clear. Why didn’t he say: When the swift-flying sparrow died—likely of old age—and fell from the tree, I felt as if my heart grew very dark.”
Olivia wrapped her arms around him. “You forgot bright, but I think you did well with dark.”
“Bright doesn’t make sense. Birds from the Passeridae family tend to be gray or brown. I realize that my version is much longer, but it’s more precise. And grammatical.”
“But your version talks about Rupert’s feelings, whereas Rupert’s spoke to you about your feelings for Alfie.”
“Ah.” He considered, and then: “I still find the conjoining of the specific words he chose to be quite illogical.”
“Consider it the poetic equivalent of a mathematical function,” Olivia suggested. “So, do you suppose we should walk into the ballroom and pretend nothing has happened? You’ll need to tie your hair back.”
“No.”
“No to going into the ballroom, or no to pretending that nothing happened?”
“I have no objection to going into the ballroom, because that’s the only way to reach the stairs to the bedchambers. I have changed my mind.”
Olivia gave a little gasp. “Are you saying . . . ? No! That would create a terrible scandal. Absolutely not.”
His hands tightened on her. “A sparrow falls every second, Olivia.” He gave her a kiss that was an erotic demand.
It took a moment, but Olivia managed to pull herself away from his kiss and out of his arms. “Your mother would be horrified by such a scandal. You remain here for at least a half hour. I’ll try to slip into the ballroom, and hopefully people will think that I was merely composing myself after having a conversation with your mother.”
“There is a footman in front of the door.”
“What?”
“My mother stationed him there after she left, to ensure our privacy. Look at the bottom of the door and you’ll see the shadow of his boots. My mother’s servants are trained to have their shoulders to the wall; if you open the door, you’ll strike him in the back, which will attract attention.”
Olivia bit her lip. “I had not planned to embark upon a life as an infamous woman with such speed.”
He walked to the back of the room, wrenched open the window, and beckoned to her. “It’s a good thing you’re a nimble climber.”
“Why? This is practically ground level.”
Quin swung a leg over the sill and dropped the foot or so to the ground. Then he held out his arms, grinning up at her, his eyes frankly lustful. “I just realized that there is no way to reach the bedchambers without going through the kitchen.”
Olivia pulled up her skirts as demurely as possible and managed to get a leg over the windowsill. It was harder than it looked, and she ended up toppling into Quin’s arms in a flutter of petticoats.
“So,” he said, holding her very tightly as he placed her feet on the ground, “we are not going back into the house. I think we’ll go climbing instead.”
“Climbing? Climbing where?” Olivia looked around. They were on the side of the house, around the corner from the ballroom. Except where yellow light spilled from the windows, the gardens were silver, cool with the light of a full moon. “Are you talking about a ladder reaching to your bedchamber? Because I absolutely refuse to climb a ladder. I am not a hapless fool, eloping in the moonlight.”
“Didn’t you tell me that I could only look at you like that if we were high in a tree?”
“I don’t want to climb any more trees, Quin! What if you fall again? You’re lucky not to have been killed.”
Quin just grinned. “Even at my advanced age, I can climb this tree.” He reached out a hand.
But Olivia hung back. “It’s chilly out here. I don’t know what you have in mind, but I’m sure it’s not proper.”
“It’s not proper at all. And don’t worry about the cold. I’ll grab a horse blanket or two from the stables.”
“You want to stay outside?”
Olivia was about to voice a whole string of objections, but Quin chose to counter her arguments by kissing her. The kiss was so successful that she found herself perched on the windowsill again, which put her breasts at a level that