“From all that field work in the midday sun, I imagine,” she returned with a haughty toss of her head.

  He reached out a hand to trail it up the section of her arm that was exposed between her gloves and her dainty puffed sleeves. “No doubt a lily white lady, such as yourself, would surely wither away under such conditions.”

  He saw a shiver run through her, although she tried to hide her discomfort by removing her arm from out of his reach. “You’re ridiculous, Lord Coxford. The next time you attempt to seduce someone, leave me alone, for I can quite do without your unwanted advances.”

  As she stalked away from him, Royce couldn’t help but smile, for he knew this was one battle that he’d effectively won.

  ***

  Honoria couldn’t sleep that night, her irritation with a certain baron undoubtedly the cause of her unrest.

  After tossing and turning for long enough, she threw off the covers and got out of bed. She headed for her writing table and started making a list of Lord Coxford’s attributes, or rather, all of the insults she might hurl at his head when next they crossed paths. Boor, bounder, lout, rotter…

  She was certain there were plenty more to add, and yet, in spite of all of her annoyance, there was one more word that refused to leave her mind.

  Adonis.

  Honoria threw down her quill and stood. Shoving her arms in her dressing gown, she headed downstairs to the library.

  As she perused the titles on the rows of numerous shelves, it didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for, for her father was meticulous in keeping his titles in perfect order.

  She withdrew a book on Greek mythology and walked over to the fireplace to sit in one of the wingback chairs. Curling her feet beneath her, she opened the volume and flipped to the section that spoke of the mortal lover of Aphrodite and her fight with Persephone for his attentions. Unfortunately, at the end of the story, Adonis was gored by a wild boar and died. She couldn’t help but snort, for it seemed a rather fitting end for a man who couldn’t seem to choose between his mistress and the woman who had cared for him after his mother, Myrrha, was cursed to live as a tree.

  She shut the book with a snap and leaned her head against the back of the chair. While her short acquaintance with Lord Coxford wasn’t quite so perplexing, she had the feeling he wouldn’t be as conflicted as the true Adonis. He seemed to be a man who followed his own path. And the way he spoke of his estate…

  She frowned, for it was almost as if she actually… respected him, but surely, after such a vexing exchange that evening, she should feel nothing but a particular loathing toward the man.

  She certainly didn’t even want to think about that earthshattering kiss.

  Sir Pierce had certainly never gone so far as to kiss her like that. But then, she supposed, in truth, he hadn’t really kissed her at all. She had been the one to initiate their brief embrace. For a first kiss, it hadn’t been that inspiring in the least.

  However, Lord Coxford’s mouth had enticed and promised so much more.

  Honoria placed her fingertips against her lips, which still tingled from the memory of it. However, she quickly clenched her fist, the warm languid sensation in her body replaced with determination. The point was moot that she had enjoyed the sensation of his lips against hers, for she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much it had disturbed her.

  Instead, she focused on the rude things he’d said to her. No one had dared to speak to her in such a forthright and bold manner — except for Sir Pierce, who had made his sentiments quite clear on more than one occasion. It was one of the things that she’d actually liked about him, and if his heart hadn’t already been sworn to another, she might have actually attempted to care for him, regardless of her father’s protestations. Granted, their union would have started out under false pretenses, for she had lied to gain his proposal, but it might have developed into something genuine.

  But it didn’t matter. It was water under the bridge, and that ship had long since sailed.

  Still, most people in society, men or women, tended to give her a wide berth because of who her father was.

  She was starting to learn that Lord Coxford was different from the rest, even Sir Pierce. He was a gentleman, for one, but one who preferred to spend most of his time in the country, so he wasn’t privy to the ton and their malicious ways.

  It was as if fate was smiling on her again, and while she didn’t intend to marry the baron, the key to happiness was the journey, not the destination. She intended to have some fun while she could, and bedeviling a new target held great appeal.

  While Lord Coxford likely thought he had the advantage over her by that impulsive kiss, he didn’t know Honoria Pratt very well. She was no milk-and-water miss who might allow such liberties to pass without any sort of reprisal. She had held her own in society against stern matrons and cutthroat debutantes alike looking to gain the upper hand.

  She could handle Royce Ainsworth.

  Chapter Five

  Royce stood at the window in the parlor the next morning and watched the heavy gray clouds continue to roll in, the rain falling steadily outside. It was a rather fitting scene for his pensive mood. He’d been plagued with thoughts of Honoria ever since she’d graciously referred to him as a coxcomb.

  But while she might have previously disturbed his sleep out of annoyance, last night he’d tossed and turned for entirely different reasons.

  He didn’t want to like Honoria, truly he didn’t, but something about that kiss had... liberated something inside of him that he hadn’t realized had been locked away.

  Then again, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done something on a whim. His focus was always on his duties to his estate and his tenants. He was a grown man with responsibilities, after all.

  But what of his own life? He was eight and twenty, so surely he ought to be considering his future and the possibility of a wife and children. And yet, it was as if he’d pushed aside his own needs for so long that he hadn’t even realized what he’d been missing — until that kiss.

  Royce was so thoroughly lost in his musings that he didn’t hear it when Marcus entered the room.

  “You seem rather somber this morning.”

  Royce couldn’t help but snort as he turned toward the viscount, where he had taken a seat near the fireplace. “You know me too well.”

  “I can only imagine your glum disposition has something to do with Lady Honoria.” His friend sighed heavily. “I daresay I’ve never seen her quite so determined to provoke anyone to such an extreme before. I can’t imagine why she might have singled you out. After meeting her you may never want to return to London again.”

  Royce grunted, but something Marcus said made a certain amount of sense. Why did Honoria choose to beset him? Could it be that he disturbed her in the same way she had bothered him?

  It was certainly worth further thought, but for now, he replied, “I can’t deny that the woman can be quite insufferable.”

  “At least you can put this distasteful interlude behind you when you return to your estate.” Marcus offered a brief smile. “You always were the most practical of men, even when we were in university together. While the other bucks were eager to run rampant all over town, I knew I could generally find you in the library, pouring over some sort of research.”

  Royce winced. “You make me sound like such a dead bore.”

  “Not at all,” Marcus corrected. “Just sensible. And obviously your efforts paid off, for your estate is one of the few that are still flourishing under its own merits, while many of our fellow comrades have gambled away their fortunes.”

  Royce said nothing, for he knew Marcus spoke the truth. He had worked tirelessly to get where he was. His father had certainly had no head for business, and had squandered away most of what wealth they had possessed before his death. He’d learned from a young age that he needed to have a modern outlook on life if he were to succeed.

  Honoria certainly had no vision of the future, for she was content to partake of her father’s generosity so long as it suited her. She was living an antiquated way of life, one that was constantly moving forward. Someday, she would wake up to find her spoiled existence was nothing more than a dream that had faded with time.

  It was the era of progress, an industrial age that would bring about much change. While there was still much to be done, Royce could already see the differences that were being wrought. A rail system was being put into place that would transport people and cargo much faster than by coach, bringing all of England into the rise of the nineteenth century. Water closets with indoor plumbing were no longer an impossibility, but an idea that would, one day, become a reality, along with gas lighting in every household.

  It was a new revolution.

  As breakfast was announced, Royce followed Marcus into the dining room where a modest sideboard of bacon, eggs, kippers, toasted bread, and even an exotic fruit had been laid out.

  He picked up the latter and inspected it curiously. It had been quite some time since he’d last seen a mango. They were rather rare in England, for they grew in a tropical climate. “However did you come by this?”

  Marcus had already taken a seat at the table, but he glanced up at the query. “I keep them on hand as they’ve become a particular favorite of mine. They’re just as sweet and juicy as a pineapple, although I prefer the taste of those.”

  Suddenly, Royce had an idea — a rather scandalous, wicked idea.

  He tossed the fruit in his palm.

  And grinned.

  If Lady Honoria was intent on tormenting him, wasn’t it fair that he returned the favor?

  ***

  Honoria looked at the missive attached to yet another lavish floral arrangement that had been delivered that morning. It spoke of her eloquence, her wit, her charm—

  She rolled her eyes as it was tossed aside with the others.

  She slumped down in her seat, grateful that her mother wasn’t around to correct her posture, for she was rather out of sorts and just wanted to pout for a moment. Besides, wasn’t it her right, as a lady, to want to sulk when the one man she wanted to see was the one man who wouldn’t dare to make an appearance?

  These suitors were merely trying to earn her regard so that they might win her dowry. It had been the same ever since she had entered society, which was why she’d preferred to remain unattached. She could have been married a hundred times over if she’d wanted, but these men were the shallow ones, begging for her hand so their greedy clutches could enjoy the wealth they would have the moment the vows were spoken, while she was tossed aside so they could go running to their mistress.

  Honoria sighed heavily.

  With her parents out of the house, she had been forced to watch the ticking of the clock in abject boredom. Alone, with nothing else to do, she considered engaging in some more shopping to pass the time — even in his dreadful, rainy weather — until another entertainment presented itself, but her wardrobe was already packed full. She wasn’t sure another dress would even fit inside at this point.

  Then, as if providence chose to shine down on her, the butler appeared in the doorway. “Lord Coxford is here to see you, my lady.”

  Her heart instantly jumped in her chest, and she sat up straighter. “Show him in.” Her maid was silently working on some mending in the corner, so she didn’t have to send for her in order to observe the proprieties, but that didn’t account for her sudden breathlessness. While she had no idea what might have spurred Lord Coxford to pay her a call, she wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.

  She quickly patted her hair to make sure all the pins were still in place, and that her cheery yellow day dress was spread out about her in an attractive manner.

  But when the baron strode into the parlor, his golden hair slightly windblown, little droplets of rain still clinging to the strands, she quite lost her bearings for a moment. He looked positively handsome in his navy trousers and jacket with an embroidered waistcoat in white satin. His crisp white shirt and cravat were just as impeccable.

  Curiously enough, she noticed he held a small basket.

  However, it was the intensity in that silver gaze that caused a shiver to trail up her spine.

  With a delicate smile, she rose to her feet. “Good day, Lord Coxford. I daresay I’m surprised that you would have chosen to call upon me on your own free will.” She lifted a brow. “Or should I thank my cousin’s betrothed for your efforts?”

  He bowed slightly. “Not at all, Lady Honoria. While I have been considering Marcus’s suggestion at length, that we should attempt to reconcile our differences for their sake, I decided to drop by with a peace offering. If you will accept it, of course.” With that, he whipped it the covering of the basket with a flourish to reveal a yellow and red fruit inside, a single green leaf attached to the stem.

  She frowned. “What is it?”

  He set the basket down and removed the fruit, holding it in his palm. “It’s called a mango.” He looked at her with that glittering gaze. “Would you like to try some?”

  She tilted her head to the side, intrigued. “I do, indeed.” She addressed her maid, but kept her focus on Lord Coxford. “Abigail. Some tea if you please, and two plates.”

  The girl left the room without a word, and Royce glanced at her curiously. “Daring to risk the proprieties for my sake, Lady Honoria?”

  Her lips twisted in amusement. “I doubt I have anything to fear from you, Lord Coxford, other than an arrogant male point of view.”

  He chuckled, but didn’t reply as he sat down on the settee and withdrew a folding knife from the inside of his jacket pocket. Taking the cloth that he’d used to cover the fruit in the basket, he began to slowly peel the outer layer away.

  An enticing sweet scent permeated the room and filled Honoria’s nostrils with anticipation as she sat beside him. Her heart was pounding as she saw a small drop of juice fall from Royce’s thumb and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to resist the urge to lick it away. Who would have ever imagined that such an inconsequential thing would affect her so? Needless to say, Honoria intended to tell Cook to make sure mangoes were a necessity in the household from now on.

  When he was finished, he sliced the fruit into sections, and then slowly wiped the blade of his knife on the square piece of linen, and then closed it before tucking it away. Next, he wiped his hands, and gently picked up a slice of the mango in between his fingers. He held it out to her. “Close your eyes and open up.”

  Her pulse was racing, but she had to ask, “Why do I need to close my eyes?”

  His mouth kicked up in the corner. “For the full effect, of course.”

  Honoria was quite sure her face flamed with the idea that he was going to feed her, but then, there was another emotion present, one much more exciting and similar to the one she’d felt the night before when he kissed her, that caused her to close her eyes and part her lips now.

  She waited, and when that first bit of tasty nectar touched her tongue, she started to bite down — just as it was yanked back out of her mouth.

  Her eyes flew open in time to see Royce pop it into his mouth and chew with a certain amount of gratification. “That was truly delectable.”

  She frowned at him. “I wouldn’t know.”

  He put a hand over his heart. “I do apologize. I fear I couldn’t help myself. Shall we try again?” He held up another piece to tantalize her.

  Reluctantly, she mimicked her earlier pose, but right as she was about to get the full effect, it was taken away yet again. She huffed as he chewed rather victoriously. “Is this truly a peace offering if you’re merely going to tease me with the prospect?” She glanced down at his left palm where he held up the fruit rather innocently. “If so, perhaps I’ll just help myself—”

  She reached forward, but he easily moved his hand out of her reach. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, my lady.”

  “Why ever not?” she returned almost crossly.

  His voice deepened slightly when he said, “Because then it wouldn’t be quite fair.”

  “In what regard?” she challenged hotly. “You are the one who is tormenting me.”

  He picked up another slice of the mango. “Am I?” This time he didn’t even try to offer it to her, but popped it directly into his own mouth. He licked his lips in satisfaction when he added, “Then it appears we are even in that regard, my lady.”

  ***

  Understanding finally dawned on Honoria’s face, as she rose to her feet. “So this—” She waved her hand in the air. “Was nothing more than an attempt to teach me a lesson?”

  He shrugged as he ate another piece of fruit. “Is it working?”

  She looked so angry that he wondered if she might stomp her foot in agitation.

  Or smack him.

  “Truly, my lord, your arrogance knows no bounds.” Honoria paced over to the window and then returned as if she wasn’t quite through with her tirade, but at that moment, the teacart rolled in and she latched on to the interruption to instruct as regal as any queen, “Thank you, Abigail. I will have some tea, although the baron was just leaving.”

  The maid hesitated, but then left the cart as she backed out of the room. In turn, Honoria crossed her arms and looked at him expectantly.

  Royce snorted. It shouldn’t surprise him that Honoria might use the single means of retaliation that she had at her disposal by demanding that he depart. But then, he still retained a trick or two up his sleeve. If anyone had the last word today, it would be him.

  Thus, he slowly rose to his feet, straightened his jacket, and set aside the uneaten parts of the mango on the cart. But instead of walking out of the room, he stepped closer to Honoria instead.

  Her eyes widened slightly as he drew near. “What are you doing?” she snapped, although it sounded slightly breathless. “I thought I told you to leave.”

 

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