Kathryn Smith Quotes

You will always have a friend in me," he assured her. "And in Lady Devane as well, I believe. She sang your praises very highly earlier."
"It's the money," Rose replied quickly. "It's obviously impaired her judgment.

What is there about me that makes me the least bit desirable?" She wasn't fishing, she truly wanted to know. Right now she didn't feel very attractive
There was no joy in the laugh that seemed to catch in his throat. He closed the scant distance between them, taking her face between the warm hollows of his palms.
"Foolish girl. You are everything that is good in life. Don't you know that?"
She would have shaken her head were she not afraid that he would release her. "No. I'm manipulative and spoiled. And I think only of my own happiness."
"You are good and sweet and true." His thumbs brushed the apples of her cheeks. "Everything I am not. Everything. I want you so badly I may go mad before the Season ends.

You do not have to see the air to know you breathe it. You do not have to see the truth to believe it and you do not have to have witnessed love to feel it.

I want you to be happy. Eat it."
A wry smile curved Rose's lips. "Am I to find happiness in a piece of chocolate cake?"
Eve already had a forkful en route to her mouth. "I stake my reputation on it."
"Oh," she replied dryly. "Surely heaven is just a bite away."
"Speaking of heaven," Eve said a few minutes later when Rose thought she might expire from the bliss the dessert inspired, "tell me about your evening at Saint's Row."
"Shh!" Her paranoid gaze darted around to see if anyone had overheard, but there was no one standing close enough to their whitewashed bench.
"Don't shush me, Rose Danvers. I'm your best friend and you've kept me waiting four whole days! I demand details."
Cheeks flushed, Rose stared at the half-eaten cake on her plate. Eve's timing might leave something to be desired, but at least she'd stopped Rose from eating the entire slice.
"What do you want to know?"
Eve's expression was incredulous. "Everything, of course." Then, as though realizing who she was talking to, she sighed. "Did you find him?"
Rose nodded. "I did." The fire in her cheeks burned hotter, and she looked away. "Oh, Eve!"
Her friend grabbed her wrist, clattering fork against plate. "That arse didn't hurt you did he?"
"No!" Then lowering her voice, "And he's not an arse." Using such rough language made her feel daring and bold.
The scowl on Eve's face eased. "Then…he was good to you?"
Rose nodded, leaning closer. "It was

You've always been so agreeable," he remarked with something of a rueful tone. "I don't understand why you haven't told me to sod off."
She couldn't help but chuckle. "Other than the simple fact that I would never say those words to anyone?"
He glanced at her, eyes sparkling. "Even so. I am humbled by your easy acceptance of me. I behaved abominably toward you years ago and yet you act as though nothing ever happened."
Rose twirled the handle of her parasol. "We cannot change the past, Mr. Maxwell. I reckon I would be a much happier woman if I could. No, all we can do is go forward."
His brow furrowed. "Does that mean you forgive me?"
She laughed again. "Yes, it does. I understand why you had to abandon your courtship after my father's misfortune and I do not blame you for it."
Kellan shook his head. "You are too good."
"No," she insisted with a sharp shake of her head. "I am not." Lord, if he but knew just how not good she could be! Of course, if they were married he'd realize that on their wedding night, wouldn't he? Or could she deceive him and make him believe she was a virgin? It wouldn't be right, but she would do it to spare his feelings, and keep her secrets. "But, I can be practical when the situation calls for it."
"Is that why you're here with me now?" he asked with amusement. "Practicality?"
Rose's smile was coy in reply. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I like giving the gossips something to natter about."
Kellan laughed alou

And there's one more thing."
Rose accepted the handshake with a smile, hoping she would see this strange woman again. "What is that?"
"The man in your cup-the one who you say hides from the world?"
"Yes, what of him?"
Sadie smiled. "He's here.

I do want it. Very much. I love him."
Camilla sighed into another smile. "I know. I believe he loves you too."
Rose shook her head. "He has yet to say it."
"Men always feel it long before they say it, my dear. They're a little slow that way.

The way she saw it, she had two choices. She could either pursue Grey and make an even bigger fool of herself, or she could throw all of her energy and efforts into finding a man she could like as much, or better than he. Perhaps she would be noble enough not to rub his face in it, but she doubted it.

It was an imprudent idea to begin with."
"I shan't argue with you on that point."
Rose scoffed at him. "You don't get to play morally superior with me, Grey. I may have been stupid enough to conspire against you, but you didn't even recognize someone you've known for years! If one of us must be the bigger idiot, I think it must be you!" Oh dear God. She covered her mouth with her hand. What had she just said?
Dark arched brows pulled together tightly over stormy blue eyes. "You're right," he agreed. "I am an idiot, but only because I allowed this ridiculous ruse past the point when I realized your identity."
Rose froze-like a damp leaf on an icy pond. "You knew?" And yet he continued to pretend…oh, he was worse than she by far.
"Of course I knew." He glowered at her. "Blindfold me and I would know the scent of your skin, the exact color and texture of your skin. Do you not realize that I know the color of your eyes right down to the flecks of gold that light their depths?"
Heart pounding, stomach churning in shock, Rose could only stare at him. How could he say such things to her and sound so disgusted? "When?" Her voice was a ragged whisper. "When did you know?"
"I suspected before but tried to deny it. The morning after we last met I took one look at your sweet mouth and knew there couldn't be two women in the world, let alone London with the same delectable bottom lip."
It hurt. Oh, she hadn't thought hearing him say such wonderful t

Rose, we were seen together naked and in my bed by my brother, my butler and two men who are about to become intimately acquainted with this family. We must marry."
She frowned, delicate brow pulling in a manner that made him want to kiss it smooth and promise everything would be all right. He'd do his best to make her happy.
Yes, he would willfully lie to ease her burden.
"But, you've sacrificed so much for me and Mama already." Christ, she wasn't going to cry, was she? "It doesn't seem fair that you be forced to marry me because I made the mistake of coming to your room."
"Is that what it was? A mistake?" His head swam and his heart felt strangely tight. Hadn't she told him earlier that she wanted this? Perhaps she hadn't come right out and said it, but he had thought it was obvious.
Her eyes widened, big brown circles that stared helplessly at him. "You aren't the least bit angry with me, are you?"
"No," he replied. "Strangely enough I'm not angry at myself either, although I could strangle Bronte's future father-in-law for arriving when he did."
Rose glanced away, but not before he saw the flash of desire in her eyes as she remembered what he was about to do to her before they were interrupted. "Yes, I could strangle the poor man as well."
Sweet God, were it not for Bronte he'd throw her on the bed right now and screw her senseless.
"When I return I will procure a special license for us to marry."
Her gaze flew to his. "Gr

And if she were an honest woman, which she was known to be on occasion, she could readily admit that hearing about his escapades had bothered her on so many levels. And, yes, it affected how she looked at him, how she thought of him.
But not, unfortunately, how she felt about him. Which either made her very generous, or very stupid.
She was also very hungry, despite the ache in her head. So, she climbed out of bed, rang for Heather, and set about getting ready for the day. She told her maid to tell Cook that she would like to take breakfast out on the terrace since it was such a lovely day and she doubted anyone would join her. Her mother had no doubt eaten long ago, and Grey was probably passed out somewhere if his condition of last night had worsened after her departure. She rather fancied him drinking himself blind after she made her grand exit.
Not that she wanted him to be miserable-she simply wanted to think that her words and opinion mattered.

Stars are so much more brilliant when they are allowed to shine.

I could look at you forever," he admitted roughly as the gown joined her wrapper on the floor.
"Looking is very good," she replied, kicking the garments aside with a flick of a slender foot. "But I would much rather you touch."
There was no artifice in her tone, no knowingly seductive tones-only an honesty that shook him to his soul.
He picked her up and carried her the few steps to his bed. He placed her naked body on the sheets and stood back. He took his time studying the lush splendor of her as he opened his trousers and pushed them over his hips and thighs. When he straightened, the full length of his arousal jutted in front of him, revealed to her bright gaze as her nakedness was to his.
"Are all men as beautiful as you are naked?" she asked with a hint of a smile.
Grey grinned back. "No," he replied. "I am an exceptional specimen of manly perfection-how the hell should i know what other men look like naked?"
Rose shrugged as she chuckled. "You stand a better chance of knowing than I would."
He climbed on the bed, easing his body onto the sheets beside her. "I cannot tell you. All I know is that I've never seen a woman as beautiful as you." He kissed the tip of her adorable nose as he placed his palm on the gentle curve of her stomach.
Soft pink suffused her cheeks. "You lie."
He shook his head, solemn as the grave. "Not about this." And then he kissed her again, because he didn't want to risk ruining the moment with silly ch

You were so good to me."
He took a drink. "Only because you were the daughter of a friend. Were you anyone else I would have plucked you that first season." Just how much honesty did he owe her? Because surely this was a bit much.
She didn't look nearly as disgusted as she should have. She merely looked…disappointed. That was worse. Necessary, but worse.
"But you're not that man anymore," she reminded him.
Grey smiled, but there was little humor in it. "Who's to say? I really don't want to find out. Do you?"
She looked away, a frown knitting her delicate brow. He wanted to reach out and smooth that pucker away with his thumb, kiss her flesh smooth again. Hold her and tell her that he could be whatever she wanted him to be.
"I understand why you despise society," she said after a moment's pause. "I wanted to tell you that." She drained the rest of her drink and stood. She didn't quite meet his gaze.
"You do?" Color him astonished. He truly hadn't thought she'd ever see it.
She nodded, looking so remote and stiff-not his Rose at all. But she placed her hand on his shoulder as she walked by-a gesture of comfort? "I would avoid it as well if it reviled me as much as it reviles you. Good night, Grey."
And when she left him sitting there, drunk and about to get drunker, what little self-respect he had left got up and went with her.

Trust me, Mr. Maxwell." No more Christian name familiarity for him! "Greyden Kane has never had to 'overwhelm' anyone." He was overwhelming enough on his own.
It was too dark to tell for certain, but she thought Kellan might have flushed. "Since we are speaking plainly, I must express my surprise that you would fall so readily into the clutches of such a man."
Rose's eyes narrowed and she took a step toward him as flames of anger leaped to life within her breast. "By 'such a man; you refer, of course, to the duke. The very same man who came to my father's aid when his so-called friends abandoned him. The same man who took my mother and I in after my father's death and kept us from a life of poverty and no prospects. The very man who was a friend when others-including you-turned their back." Rage tightened her jaw and clenched her fingers into fists. "I would rather fall into his 'clutches,' Kellan, than depend on your friendship, which was proven itself far less palatable than this swill Lady Frederick calls punch. Excuse me."
She shoved the glass into his hand, not caring that some of the sugary liquid splashed over his fingers. And then she whirled on her heel and left him standing alone, and went back inside to face the stares with as much dignity as her anger would give her.

Grey wasn't quite drunk, but he was far from sober when Rose entered his study later that evening. His heart stuttered at the sight of her, but his head…his head couldn't take any more.
"I've been drinking," he warned her, just in case his sprawled posture and missing cravat wasn't enough indication. "And I refuse to dance this ridiculous dance with you any more tonight."
"May I have a drink with you?"
He glanced up. She stood beside the sofa where he half sat, half lay. She looked like someone who'd just lost her best friend or puppy or something equally as tragic.
He sat up. "Of course." Never mind that it wasn't proper. Who the hell cared? They were well past proper. He was simply trying to hold on to sane.
She poured herself a substantial glass of sherry and took a seat on the chair nearest him. He sat quietly, nursing the remainder of whiskey in his glass while she took several sips from her own.
"Do you remember my come-out ball?" she asked after a few minutes.
"Of course." And he did. "I remember telling you that you looked lovely in pink."
She smiled. "You danced the first dance with me so I wouldn't have to dance with Papa."
"You were afraid the other girls would laugh at you if you danced with your father."
"They didn't laugh at me for dancing with you."
"No." He chuckled at took a drink. "I wager they didn't."
Rose sighed. "They thought you were so scandalous, you know. All night I had girls coming up to m

A gasp caught her attention, followed by a rush of whispers that filled the sudden silence that fell over the room. People stopped talking to turn and stare. People stopped dancing. Even the orchestra stopped playing.
Curious, Rose turned to see what everyone was staring at with such blatant shock.
Oh, dear God. Her eyes had to be deceiving her! But no, she knew who it was she saw standing just inside the ballroom doors, looking as though he owned the place, meeting every gaze with calm, ducal arrogance.
It was Grey.
And everyone else knew it was him as well, because unlike every other person in that ballroom, the Duke of Ryeton did not wear a mask.

So, of course Rose decided this would be a good time to discuss such matters. "I would also like to know if you know ways to prevent pregnancy."
He choked on a grape. She lurched toward him, but he coughed and spat the villainous fruit on the grass. He wiped at his watery eyes with the back of his hand as he turned his face to her once more. "That will teach me not to chew sufficiently."
Rose smiled shakily, her heart skipping. "You scared me." What if he had choked to death right in front of her?
She couldn't even begin to contemplate life without him.
"You stunned me. That's not exactly something you bring up out of the blue." His eyes twinkled. "Was it the mention of your puppy? Are you frightened of having a litter?"
When he looked at her like that-like they were friends and so much more-it made her insides feel like leaves blowing in the wind. Her gaze slid to her lap. "I would like us to have some time together before we have children."
Some of the tenderness drained from his expression. "I should have taken precautions last night. I'm sorry. I didn't think of children, only…"
"Only what?" If it made his eyes warm like that, she wanted to know what he'd been thinking.
His gaze locked with hers, so sharp and hot. "I thought only of how it felt to be naked inside you."
A hard throb pulsed low and deep inside her, bringing sexual awareness speeding to the surface. It had been different without the "French Letter." It had been b

Why did you come here tonight?" she asked. "Other than the fact that you've finally come to your senses and realize you love me."
Chuckling, Grey reached up and untied the ribbons that held her mask. The pretty silk fell away to reveal the beautiful face beneath. "I missed you," he replied honestly. "And you were right-about everything. I'm tired of drifting through life. I want to live again-with you."
A lone tear trickled down her cheek. "I think that might be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me."
He grinned. "I have more."
She pressed her fingers to his lips. "I'm tired of talking." She kissed him, teasing his lips with the ripe curves of hers, sliding her tongue inside to rub against his in a sensual rhythm that had him fisting his hands in her skirts.
By the time they reached Mayfair, Grey's hair was mussed, Rose's skirts crushed, and he was harder than an oratory competition for mutes.
"I can't believe you came," she told him as the entered the house, arms wrapped around each other. "I'm so proud of you."
"I wouldn't have done it without you."
She shook her head. "You did it for yourself not for me."
Perhaps that was true, and perhaps it wasn't. He had no interest in discussing it tonight. "It's just the beginning," he promised. "I'm going to go wherever you want to go from now on. Within reason."
She laughed. "Of course. We can't have you attending a musicale just to please me, can we?" She gazed up at him. "

You look lovely tonight, my lady," Kellan said for her ears alone as he took her into his arms-not too close, of course.
His flattery pleased her but did not discompose her as Grey's did. Rose smiled sincerely in response. "Thank you, sir. Might I say that you are in very fine looks as well."
"You always know exactly the right thing to say to woo me, Lady Rose." He grinned as they moved through a turn. "Have a care, else you're likely to break my heart."
"If it is so easily broken, perhaps you should hold it a little more dear," she advised archly.
He winced, but it was apparent that he had taken the remark with the humor she intended. "She mocks me."
"You are mistaken, sir. I am merely thinking of your best interests."
They shared a smile and were silent for a turn.
"I am surprised that Ryeton allowed you to come tonight."
Rose raised a brow. "The duke does not dictate where I can and cannot go." Grey might be her benefactor, but he was not her guardian.
"That is good to hear," Kellan replied, ignoring the edge to her tone. "So he cannot prevent you from taking a drive in Hyde Park with me tomorrow afternoon."
She chuckled. "No, I suppose not. But first, you might want to ask me if I care to take a drive with you."
"Do you?"
She did. Did that make her awful? Just a few minutes ago she'd been missing Grey and thinking about how much she cared for him, and now here she was flirting with Kellan and fluttering over the

She found him on the back terrace,slouched on the balustrade,smoking a thin cigar.
"Why did you do that?"she asked as soon as the French doors closed behind her.
He shot her a tired,lazy look."Do what,darling?"
"Treat me as though I am a child-and I am not your darling."Oh,but she would like to be.

I want to take you until you are boneless. I want to drain you of strength. I want to fill you and take my fill of you. My dear, Ivy, I want to devour you. I want your juices on my toung, flooding my mouth. I want your wetness on my face, your scent covering me. I want your blood in my veins.

So it is hopeless. Is that what you are saying?"
Archer smiled. "Nothing is hopeless, but if he means enough to you that you are willing to put up with him, then I will do what I can to help you."
"Why would you do that?" She took a nibble of delicious frosting as her heart thudded hard in her chest. "You don't even know me."
But what if he could help her convince Grey to rejoin the world?
He raised a cake of his own, the frosting stark white against the tan of his fingers. "Because you are the only woman with the exception of my mother and sister who knows my brother intimately and for some reason still likes him. That's good enough for me. Now, eat some of that cake I was kind enough to fetch you. I wouldn't want you to tell Grey I was a poor companion."
Rose's smile caught on her lips. "Are you suggesting I use you to make your brother jealous?"
Archer laughed. "My dear girl, it will take better men than me to drive Grey into action." His expression turned positively rakish. "But I'm as good a place to start as any.

In fact, the only people he let anywhere near him were his family and her.
She wasn't quite certain she wanted to dissect the implications of that honor.

What happened?" he asked softly, after a moment's silence.
Heathcliff lifted his head at the same time Rose did. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks streaked with tears. A piece of hay clung to her chin and stuck to her hair.
She looked beautiful Achingly so.
"You're wet," she said, her voice thick. She wasn't impressed with his arrival, that much was clear.
"I commanded the rain to stop before I left the house but it didn't listen." She didn't smile at his poor attempt at humor. "Why the tears, Rosie?

Voluptuous?"
Grey smiled at the naughty light in her gaze. "A full subscription. Perhaps you will discover between the pages other activities you would like to sample with me."
It wasn't much of a gift, certainly not an expensive one, but Rose embraced him as though he had given her the world-and he had the wine stains on his cuffs to prove it. "Thank you!" She kissed his cheek. "Oh, Grey, thank you so much!"
"It's only a magazine, Rose, but you are welcome."
She pulled back so that he could see her face, the delighted flush in her cheeks. "It's not just a magazine. It's a gesture of…trust and respect. Do you know how many husbands would forbid their wives to read such literature?"
Yes, he did, and he would hardly call it literature. "I'm of the opinion that a husband can only benefit from his wife reading this kind of material."
A coy, seductive-wonderfully wicked-smile curved her full lips. "Perhaps we will both benefit."
He could shag her senseless right then and there. He gave her back her wine instead, and positioned himself with his back against the headboard. He tugged her close, turning her so that she sat with her back against his chest. "Read to me."
She looked horrified at the idea. "What? No, I couldn't."
Grey trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, smiling smugly as she shivered. "Read it. Please."
Her fingers trembled slightly as they parted the pages. "What would you like to hear?"
"A story," he repl

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You are very quiet," Archer remarked as they walked together to the refreshment table. They'd just finished a game of whist and when Rose begged off from a second round, Grey's brother did the same.
"My apologies," she replied. "I do not mean to be rude."
"My brother doesn't deserve to take up so much room in that lovely head of yours."
She might have been insulted by his disparaging Grey, or his familiarity with her, had she not been so surprised by the remark itself.
"You are impertinent, sir."
He grinned-a grin so much more roguish than Grey's. "One of my more charming traits. I did not mean offense, dear lady. Only that thinking about him will do you no good. The man is bent on punishing himself for the rest of his life."
Rose accepted the plate he offered her. "Thank you. Why would he wish to punish himself?"
"Because he's an ar…idiot. Sandwich?" He held up a cucumber sandwich caught in silver tongs.
"Please. I'm not certain I wish to discuss your brother with you, Lord Archer."
"Not even if I can help you win him?"
Rose's heart froze-no, it simply stopped. Her entire body went numb. She would have dropped her plate had Archer not swept it from her hand into his own.
"What makes you think I wish to win him?"
He flashed her a coy glance. "Please, lady Rose. I've not made a career out of studying your sex to fall for your false innocence now."
Oh dear God. Had Grey told him?
"I've seen the way you look a

Oh, ho!" his brother cried, clasping him close in a fierce embrace. "Did you think you'd escape without saying hello?" Then, for Grey's ears alone, "I'm so frigging proud of you I could just piss."
"Please don't." Grey gently pushed him away, meeting the other man's bright gaze with a lump in his throat. "But thank you."
His mother hugged him as well, so overcome that she began to weep. Grey didn't know what to do with her, but Archer gave her a handkerchief and Rose discreetly took her aside so she could compose herself.
That left Grey with Bronte, who looked as though she was on the verge of tears as well, her blue eyes watery behind her mask.
"You," he said firmly. "Let you and I get one thing straight right now. I don't care if you've already asked Archer. I don't care what your groom's family wants, or who you think you're trying to protect. I will give you away, or there will be no wedding. Is that understood?"
The cupid's bow of his sister's mouth trembled and for a moment he thought he had been wrong about her and now she hated him, but then she threw herself into his arms, laughing.
"I love you," she whispered against his ear before kissing his cheek.
She was gone before Grey could even hug her back, which was probably just as well given the burning in his eyes.
"We'll be all over the scandal rags tomorrow," Archer crowed with a bit too much enthusiasm.
"No doubt," Grey agreed. "I'm afraid I have provided enough entertainm

Grey was here."
He hadn't known, that was obvious from the way his eyes widened. "You lie."
Rose chuckled. "I saw him. I spoke to him. He said he came to see me. And then he ran out of here as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels."
Archer shook his head, an expression of disbelief on his face. "They tend to do that when Hades freezes over." Then he offered her a grin. "He braved being seen in public just to come here and see you?"
"He was watching from a balcony. I wouldn't have known he was here if the fortune teller hadn't told me."
His brows shot up. "And there's a story for another time. Look, Lady Rose, I know he's frustrating as all get-out, but you cannot expect Grey to change years of behavior in a week. You have to be patient-like waves lapping at a stone."
That was so very easily said. He wasn't the one being pressured to find a husband. He wasn't the one who felt as though everything she wanted was just out of reach. "You know, I suddenly find myself very interested in Lady Monteforte's literary tastes. Shall I make the introductions?"
"I will hang your puppy if you do not."
Rose grinned. He truly was the most charming of rascals. "How very fortunate for me then, that I do not own a puppy."
"For shame. Every young lady should have a puppy."
Rose made the introductions, and Archer wasted no time in asking Lady Monteforte if she cared to dance. For a moment it seemed the lady might decline, but then Ros

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That was delightful."
Grey chuckled, flashing a lopsided grin that made his eyes sparkle like aquamarines. "You make me feel…"
"Yes?"
He shook his head, surprising her with the degree of awe and self-consciousness in his expression as he drew back, and helped her down from the table. "That's it. You make me feel."
Rose smiled and kissed him. It wasn't exactly a declaration of love, but he was getting closer.
It would do for now.

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I wasn't very good at the bike thing. Really, it was just dangerous to trust two skinny little wheels and spindly brakes with the considerably uncoordinated woman that is me.

After more hours in a carriage with Archer than he ever wanted to experience again, Grey returned to Ryeton House. All he wanted to do was find Rose, climb into bed with her, and sleep for the rest of the day. Honestly, sleep. Entwine his legs with hers, sink into her arms, bury his face in the sweet warm hollow of her neck…
"You coming?"
Grey blinked and turned his head. He was standing in the drive with Archer and the others watching him expectantly.
Archer shook his head, clearly exasperated. "Are we going inside, Your Grace, or shall we conduct our business on the street for all Mayfair to witness?"
"Inside," he mumbled. Could he be any more of an idiot? He walked toward the door, the others falling into step behind him. Archer took Bronte's arm and led their pale, scared-looking sister into the house. Grey hadn't had much of a chance to talk to her, to let her know that everything would be fine. She probably thought he was going to rant and rave and tell her she could never see Alexander again.
Truth be told, ranting and raving was tempting. And a little fear was a small price to pay for what she'd put him through-and for thinking so ill of him to begin with. When had he ever given her reason to think him a monster?

She knew how to play him so very well.
He slipped his hand around hers. "Friends," he repeated roughly.
Her smile was bright enough to light up the room-and make him see stars. "Excellent! I'm so pleased. And now I really should go. I don't want to keep your family waiting."
His family. She was going out with his family. His mother and sister, who would no doubt think her absolutely perfect.
Perfect for Archer, who his mother was determined to see married, now that she had given up all hopes for Grey. Or perhaps they'd want her for Trystan, although he was still living the life of an adventurous young man.
"Have fun," he encouraged with all the false enthusiasm he could muster.
She flashed a quick grin at him over her shoulder as she made for the door. "I'm sure I will. Your brother will see to that."
As far as parting shots went, it wasn't bad. By no means mortal, but deep enough to wound never the less.
Alone once more, Grey returned to his chair and pulled the copy of Voluptuous out from underneath the cushion of the other. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating finishing the article on pleasing a woman orally.
And then, with a snarl, he flung the pages into the fire, watching ash and embers fly up in the assault. The paper caught quickly, giving off a sudden bloom of heat.
Women, he thought as he watched the magazine's mocking text blacken and char.
He would be much happier in his misery without them.

Hundreds of eyes watched him like vultures circling a wounded dog, but they didn't matter. Only one pair of eyes mattered to Grey at that moment.
It only made sense that he should be the only one in the room not wearing a mask. He had hidden himself for so long, that it felt somehow cleansing to put himself on such blatant display. He deserved this blatant attention. And on some level, he needed it.
Head high, he walked through the ballroom, the crowd parting for him. They didn't draw back so much that he couldn't hear their whispers.
"The nerve!"
"Did you see the scar?"
"Always did know how to make an entrance."
"He's so handsome!"
Grey stopped listening. It didn't matter what they said. All that mattered was finding Rose, and somehow he knew that she would be waiting at the end, letting him make this walk alone as he needed to do.

She was like no woman he'd ever known. She inspired compassion and fury at the same time, made him want to hold her tenderly even when he thought he might strangle her. How the hell did she do that?
Why didn't she fight him instead of pressing against him, whetting his appetite for her even more with the ripe sweetness of her body?
And damn it all to hell, how could a kiss make him want to toss aside the promise he'd made to her father and compromise what honor he had left? Because of this kiss, he was in danger of doing just that-and in danger of making love to Rose with her mother under the same roof. If he did that then he'd know he truly had no honor left.
If that wasn't a proverbial bucket of cold water, he didn't know what was.

Lady Rose, you grow lovelier every time I see you."
Had it been a stranger who spoke she might have been flustered, but since it was Archer, Grey's younger brother, she merely grinned in response and offered her hand. "And your eyesight grows poorer every time you see me, sir."
He bowed over her fingers. "If I am blind it is only by your beauty."
She laughed at that, enjoying the good-natured sparkle in his bright blue eyes. He was so much more easy-natured than Grey, so much more full of life and flirtation. And yet, the family resemblance could not be denied even if Archer's features were a little thinner, a little sharper.
How would Grey feel if she found a replacement for him in his own brother? It was too low, even in jest.
"Careful with your flattery, sir," she warned teasingly. "I am trolling for a husband you know."
Archer's dark brows shot up in mock horror. "Never say!" Then he leaned closer to whisper. "Is my brother actually fool enough to let you get away?"
Rose's heart lurched at the note of seriousness in his voice. When she raised her gaze to his she saw only concern and genuine affection there. "He's packing my bags as we speak."
He laughed then, a deep, rich sound that drew the attention of everyone on the terrace, including his older brother.
"Will you by chance be at the Devane musicale next week, Lord Archer?"
"I will," he remarked, suddenly sober. "As much as it pains me to enter that viper's pit. I'm ac

Thank you," he blurted. Startled glances shot his way. "Both of you."
Camilla, paused in the middle of pouring herself another cup of tea. "Whatever for?"
"For your kindness." A huge lump seemed to have formed in his throat as his gaze locked with Rose's. "I am honored to have your friendship."
Rose's expression softened into something he couldn't read, but it seized his heart all the same. What the hell was wrong with him? A few hours in her company and he already unmanned himself.
"You shall always have it," she told him quietly. Then, a quick glance to the woman near him. "Isn't that right, Mama?"
Damn it all, in those few seconds he'd forgotten about Camilla. "Of course," she replied with a gentle smile as she laid her hand over one of Grey's. "Always."
Somehow, he managed to smile. Then he made some foolish excuse so that he might leave their company. He felt Rose's questioning gaze upon his back as he left the room, and he had to force himself not to look back. Because if he did, there was no telling what insanity he might get up to.
He had his pride, after all.

Good morning," he said.
A slow, bright smile curved her lips. "It's hardly morning. It's still dark out."
It was bright enough for him to see her face, and that was all he needed. "Close enough."
She rolled away from him and threw back the covers. Naked, she strode across the room.
"Where are you going?" he demanded, bolting upright. Was that fear causing his heart to race like that?
Rose shot him a sheepish glance over her bare shoulder. "Morning constitution," she replied and slipped into the adjoining bath. The door clicked shut behind her.
Grey fell back against the pillows, cursing himself for being such an idiot. Had it been so long that he'd forgotten what it was like to wake up with a woman? And what the hell had he thought she was doing? Running away from him without a stitch of clothing?
He rubbed both hands over his face. He was an idiot. She'd made him an idiot.

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Rose barely poured herself a cup of hot, mouth-watering chocolate, when she saw Grey and Archer walking across the lawn. Archer was impeccable as always, but Grey was a mess. His clothes were the same he'd worn the night before, and obviously slept in. His shirt, open at the throat, revealed a glimpse of tanned flesh that made her heart twitch and her gingers itch to touch him. His hair was mussed, and stubble covered his cheeks and jaw, except where prohibited by his scar.
In short, he looked absolutely beautiful-a fallen angel. The only thing that made him remotely human was that scar, and she could easily tell herself he got that from battling the archangel Gabriel before being thrown out of heaven.
She squinted as she realize Grey held something against his chest-something that moved. Was that a puppy?
She jumped to her feet, and skipped down the few steps that took her down to the lawn. Lifting the skirts of her yellow morning gown, she hurried to meet them. "Good morning!" she cried. "What have you there?"
Archer smiled in greeting, but Rose barely noticed. Her gaze was riveted on the man looking at her with an expression so hopeful it neigh on broke her heart.
"I brought you something," he said, his voice low and strangely rough. "A gift." And then he held out his arms and offered her the sweetest face she'd ever seen.
"Oh!" What an idiot she must seem, her eyes welling with tears over a dog, but she didn't care. She let the tears come and

I see a man."
Rose bit back a sigh. Of course she did. She seemed to see a man in every cup. And here she'd actually hoped that Sadie Moon might be as unusually talented as her appearance suggested.
"He hides himself. A mask. He keeps to the shadows."
Rose's heart rolled over her chest. "What else?"
"You want him," Sadie said, turning the cup in her palms. "You do not understand what you feel for him, or why he pushes you away."
"No." Rose was breathless. "I don't."
Those fey eyes locked with hers. "Because he loves you enough to give you up. He is all about duty and honor, but he is ruled by fear."
She was on the very edge of her seat now. "Yes. He's afraid of coming out of the shadows."
Sadie shook her head, the feathers on her hat bobbing. "That's only part of it. He's afraid for you."
"For me?" Rose's teeth clicked together. "Why?"
The fortune teller shrugged. "For that answer, you will have to go to him. You have many men in your cup, Lady Rose."
Disappointed, Rose sagged a little. "For all the good it does me."
A bright grin flashed beneath that amazing hat. "The man who wants you but will not take you. Another who would take everything you offer and give what he can of himself-but it will not be enough. Another who wants nothing from you at all."
Grey. Kellan? And probably Archer.

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I wanted to apologize."
His gaze lifted from her bosom. He remembered those breasts in his hands. "For what?"
"For deceiving you as I did. I misunderstood the nature of our relationship and behaved like a spoiled little girl. It was a terrible mistake and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."
A terrible mistake? A mistake to be sure, but terrible? "There is nothing to forgive," he replied with a tight smile. "We were both at fault."
"Yes," she agreed with a smile of her own. "You are right. Can we be friends again?"
"We never stopped." At least that much was true. He might have played the fool, might have taken advantage of her, but he never ceased caring for her. He never would.
Rose practically sighed in relief. Grey had to struggle to keep his eyes on her face. "Good. I'm so glad you feel that way. Because I do so want your approval when I find the man I'm going to marry."
Grey's lips seized, stuck in a parody of good humor. "The choice is ultimately yours, Rose."
She waved a gloved hand. "Oh, I know that, but your opinion meant so much to Papa, and since he isn't here to guide me, I would be so honored if you would accept that burden as well as the others you've so obligingly undertaken."
Help her pick a husband? Was this some kind of cruel joke? What next, did she want his blessing?
She took both of his hands in hers. "I know this is rather premature, but next to Papa you have been the most important man in

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Before his death your father begged a promise from me. He made me swear that I would look after you and your mother."
"And you have," she insisted.
He held up his hand to prevent her from saying more. "And made me give my word that I would never touch you in any manner other than brotherly." Another rueful smile. "So you see, I preferred being able to pretend that I had kept my promise rather than face the truth of breaking my word."
He broke her heart, damn him. "He made me promise not to become attached to you," she confided, continuing with the evening's truthful trend. "It seems Papa saw something that neither one of us did."
"Oh, I saw it. I've seen it since you were eighteen years old and we danced together at some insipid ball. I don't remember where it was, or the day of the week, but I remember that you wore a pale tea-colored gown with Belgian lace, and that you had pearls in your hair."
She couldn't breathe. The tilt of his lips, the bleakness of his gaze, it was all too horrible. "And you wore a red cravat," she whispered. "I thought you looked so rakish in it."
"I was rakish," he admitted. "Your father knew that.

And then the world stopped and there was nothing but Rose as she slipped from the crowd to stand before him. Grey forgot about Lady Devane. He forgot about everyone but her.
She wore a mask, but even if he hadn't recognized the hair and the dress he would have known it was her. He knew her scent, the shape of her mouth. He recognized her by the way his heart rejoiced at her nearness.
She stared at him, her mask doing nothing to conceal her wonder. "Why are you here?"
Grey smiled down at her. Did she notice that he'd pinned the rosette from the gown she'd worn their first night together to his lapel? "Because I hold you above my horse, my fortune, and my pride."
Her brow puckered. "I beg your pardon?"
"Those were the traits you said you required in a husband, were they not?"
Her face relaxed, and he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in her dark eyes. "Yes. I believe they were. You came here just to tell me that?"
He laughed. Her face was so bright below the edge of her mask, her eyes damp and warm. It broke is heart-and buoyed it as well-to know he was responsible for all of that. "No. I came here to dance with my wife. And to do this." He took her face in his hands and kissed her in front of the entire ballroom. He didn't care about the gasps or that everyone could see. He didn't care what they said or whether or not his behavior was proper.
He was a duke, damn it. A scandalous one at that.
When he lifted his head, Rose's e

What would the ton do without us to feed them scandal broth?"
Grey returned her grin. "The lot of them would starve."
They chuckled and as the humor faded, Grey tilted his head to look at her. "You look beautiful tonight."
She flushed, pleasure lighting the dark depths of her eyes. "You don't have to say such things."
"I know I don't, but you are my fiancée and it's perfectly acceptable for me to voice my thoughts aloud. It's rather refreshing after keeping them to myself for so long."
That got her attention. One of her fine, high brows twitched. "How long?"
He grinned. "Since you were old enough for me to think such thoughts without being lecherous."
They stood no more than six inches apart. Close enough that he could see how amazingly flawless her skin was-not a freckle in sight. Close enough that she could see every twist and knot in his scar-and yet she barely glanced at it. Her gaze was riveted on his. She didn't care that he was disfigured-at least not on the outside. Not on the inside either, so it seemed.
"I've never been a good man," he confessed-a little more hoarse than he liked-"but I promise to be a faithful husband." It was the best he could offer, because as much as he would like to be the man she wanted, it wasn't going to happen.
Her smooth brow puckered. "I haven't actually consented, you know."
"Rose, we have to marry."
"No." She raised sparkling eyes to his. "I want you to ask me to marry you-not deman

It also occurred to him, like a well-aimed kick to the head, that the idea of watching Rose marry anyone was something he looked forward to about as much as he would castration.
Possibly less.

I shouldn't mind being his wife at all, if he ever asks me."
It was at that moment that Mr. Gregory looked up and caught them watching him. He smiled and raised his glass of champagne to them.
Eve smiled in return before turning to snatch a similar glass for each of them off the tray of a passing footman. "See? He catches me staring and he barely reacts. Most men would be halfway across the floor already."
Rose took a sip from the flute her friend had given her. "Perhaps he is so confident in his intent to have you that he feels he needn't exert himself."
The blonde made an indelicate sound. "He'd better reconsider exerting himself, otherwise I'm likely to find someone with less confidence."
How Rose wished she had that kind of self-value.

Last night Grey and I were caught together and now he insists we marry."
Eve's eyes were huge blue saucers. "Define 'caught.'"
Rose stroked Heathcliff's silky ears. "Naked and in bed-that sort of caught."
Her friend looked positively scandalized-and gleeful. "No! Who caught you?"
"His brother Archer and a servant." She purposefully did not mention anything about Bronte's situation. As much as she trusted Eve, she could not be certain that none of the grooms wouldn't overhear. And since most of the household probably knew about her and Grey by dawn, it didn't seem so important to keep her own council in that regard.
"I have no doubt that your maid is getting every sordid detail-and possibly embellishment-belowstairs as we speak."
Eve frowned. "Do you think Ryeton's servants would be so cruel as to discuss you openly?"
She rolled her eyes. "They would never in a million years do anything to intentionally hurt me or Grey, but there's bound to be talk. It's that affection for both of us that makes their lips loose. I swear one of the footmen grinned at me this morning as I took breakfast."
Her friend chuckled sweetly, laughing even harder as one of the pups came up on its hind legs to lick her chin. "At least you will have dedicated servants, if not indiscreet ones."
Rose had to smile-it was that or burst into sobs. "At least.

You've been given a second chance at true love. Few of us are rarely given even a first chance. If you ruin this, you will be a bigger fool than I could ever imagine. This time when he leaves you, it really will be your fault.

Does your husband dictate where you can and cannot go?"
The woman looked as though she expected to be proven right.
"My husband would never do that." Rose informed her coolly. "Although there will always be unsavory characters at any social gathering, my husband trusts me to decide the ones I wish to attend."
The woman flushed, and Rose felt a certain amount of satisfaction in knowing that her barb had struck a nerve. "If that's true, he must have changed immensely since the days when we were acquainted."
Ahh. Now the claws came out. No wonder the woman had made such vile aspirations earlier. She was jealous.
"He has." Rose held the other woman's gaze, not caring a whit for how she said the word "acquainted." This woman had slept with her husband, and oddly enough she wasn't the least bit jealous. She did, however, feel sorry for the woman because Grey had been a different man back then. "My husband is very attentive and courteous to my wishes. I couldn't be more satisfied with my situation." Oh God, had she actually said that? The innuendo practically stood up on its own and waved to everyone in the room.
What was it about Grey-no, about this woman-that made her feel as though she had to defend her marriage, and brag about her sex life? It was just so pretty.
"You were once a friend of the duke's, were you not, Lady Devane?" The woman-whose name Rose could not remember-slanted a devious glance in the blonde woman's direction.
Everyone

He told me to stay away from you."
Strong hands roamed her back in the most comforting fashion. "You should have listened."
Rose raised her face to look at him. "But then I would not have known what it was to be truly happy."
Grey's eyes widened, and for a moment he looked young and vulnerable. "Don't say that. I've made you miserable."
She smiled sadly. "True, but those nights with you at Saint's Row? That was happiness for me. The most I've ever known."
His mouth opened and she pressed her fingers again his lips to close them. "You don't have to say anything. I already know it's not what I want to hear."
Grey frowned, and reached up to move her hand from his face. He held her fingers within his. He gave off more heat than the fire she'd fried herself in front of earlier. Heat that went straight to her bones, right to the very center of her being, radiating out into her limbs. There was nothing seductive about their embrace and yet she ached inside, that wet and willing part of herself desperate to take him inside once more. She wanted to claim him, mark him.
Ruin him for anyone else.
"I was happy too," he said softly. So softly she wouldn't have known it was him who spoke were she not watching his beautiful lips as they formed the words. "God help me, you make me forget every vow and promise I've ever made."
Heart pounding, Rose didn't resist as he dropped her hand to thread his fingers in her hair, pressing against her scalp. "Y

I once told you that all actions have a cost, we simply must decide if they are worth paying. If you do not act in the best interest of your own happiness you will regret - and pay for it - for the rest of your life.

No one knows how to gamble and win, that's why they call it gambling.

He hadn't been aware of staring, but when her questioning gaze locked with his, Grey felt as though he'd been smacked upside the head by the open palm of idiocy.
"Is something troubling you, Grey?"
He loved the sound of his name on her tongue, and hated that he loved it. She made him weak and stupid. One sweet glance from her and he was ready to drop to his knees.
It wasn't love. It wasn't even infatuation. It was pure unmitigated lust. He could admit that. Hell, he embraced it. Lust could be managed. Lust could be mastered. And lust would eventually fade once she was out of his care and out of his life. That was the cold, hard, blessed truth of it.
"I was wondering if you were eagerly anticipating Lady Shrewsbury's ball tomorrow evening?" How easily the lie rolled off his tongue as he lifted a bite of poached salmon to his mouth.
She smiled softly, obviously looking forward to it very much. "I am. Thank you."
Camilla shared her daughter's pleasure judging from her coy grin. "Rose has renewed her acquaintance with the honorable Kellan Maxwell. He requested that she save the first waltz of the evening for him."
The fish caught in Grey's throat. He took a drink of wine to force it down. "The same Kellan Maxwell who courted you during your first season?"
Rose's smile faded a little. No doubt she heard the censure in his tone, his disapproval. "The same," she replied with an edge of defensiveness.
The same idiot who abandoned his pursu

Archer arrived early the next morning. Grey was still asleep on the sofa in his study when he heard tapping on the window.
He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it as the sharp light of day pierced his brain. Squinting, he tried to focus on his brother, since he already knew who his visitor was. Only one person ever announced himself so annoyingly.
"Open the bloody window, Grey!"
Grumbling, Grey slowly rose into a full sitting position. His back and neck were stiff and his head felt as though someone had kicked it repeatedly from all sides. And his mouth! Christ, he didn't want to even think about what might have died inside it.
He staggered to the window, unlatched it and swung it open. "What the hell do you want?"
Wide-eyed, Archer made a tsking noise. "Is that any way to greet your favorite brother?"
"You're not my favorite," Grey scowled.
Unaffected, Archer easily adapted. "Is that any way to greet your second-favorite brother?"
Grey grinned, he couldn't help it. Archer had always had a knack for making him smile, just as he had a knack for pissing him off as well. "I'm hung over and feel like shite. What do you want?"
"You look like shite. What's this I hear about you making an appearance at Saint's Row last night?"
"Rose tell you that?"
"She did. I'm surprised you took such a risk just to see her."
Grey thought of her in that teal gown, the lights illuminating the luster of her skin. "It was worth it."

Your brother is the most ridiculous, hardheaded, stupid man I know!"
Rose half expected Archer to chastise her. Instead, he took a second glass of champagne from the footman passing with the tray and offered it to her. "And you are surprised by this?"
"Astonishingly, yes." She took a long, unladylike swallow of the crisp, bubbly liquid.
"I'm astounded. Ah, here are two scoundrels you should know to avoid." His grin told her he considered them quite the opposite.
They were good-looking men, one tall and dark, the other almost as tall with brown hair and blue eyes and enough of the Kane countenance that she picked him for Grey's relation instantly. They met Archer enthusiastically, and then turned polite curiosity in her direction.
"Lady Rose Danvers," Archer said jovially. "May I present the Earl of Autley." The dark man bowed over her offered hand. "And my cousin, Mr. Aiden Kane?" The man who looked a bit like Grey smiled and took her hand next.
"It's lovely to meet you, Lady Rose," the earl said smoothly. "I hope you are enjoying your time in London?"
"Oh, yes," she replied. "Lord Archer has been a very entertaining companion."
"I don't doubt it," Aiden said with a grin as he clapped Archer on the shoulder.

His hope wasn't lost, it was buried, and somehow Prudence Ryland made that old grave seem much more shallow than it once was.