Free Lady Vivian Defies a Duke by Samantha Grace Page B

ribbons in a pile, she lined up the edges. Vivi didn’t know how to respond. In the art of coquettishness, she had always remained an observer. She settled for practicality. “If you kissed me, you would feel honor bound to marry me, and we both know you desire no such association.”
    He pulled the carriage off the lane and parked under a tree. Brighthurst House remained in the distance, its pitched roof peeking over a hill.
    Grabbing her hand, he scooted from the seat. “Come with me.”
    “Why?” Vivi’s voice squeaked. She scrambled to follow lest he drag her. Good heavens, he didn’t intend to prove himself, did he?
    His hands circled her waist before she tumbled from the carriage and lowered her to the ground. But even after her half boots were securely on the grass, he held on.
    Oh, my molasse s ! She had never been kissed and she didn’t know what to do. Her eyes drifted shut, but she wasn’t sure what to do with her mouth. She licked her lips then puckered up, waiting.
    A woodpecker’s rapid hammering sounded from a nearby tree. A breeze ruffled the sleeves of her gown. His fingers tightened on her waist and urged her closer.
    “Blast it all.” He released her.
    She blinked into the empty space where he had just been. She spotted him rounding the horses and stared as he approached an ancient, gnarled oak. Its branches twisted like arthritic fingers with unsightly knots like swollen knuckles. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he blew out a noisy breath but said nothing.
    “That is a good climbing tree,” she said in place of witty repartee, anything to fill the strained silence.
    He looked up at the branches. “Do you climb trees?”
    She trailed after him. Admitting to yet another unladylike habit would prove how unsuited she was to be his duchess, but it wasn’t her odd endeavors that seemed to bother him.
    “I have been known on occasion to climb a tree, but only if I’m wearing trousers.”
    His eyes lit when he looked at her. “You’re nothing like I anticipated.”
    “Thank you, Your Grace. I think.” She lowered to the grass, tucked her knees up under her skirts, and rested her forearms across her knees.
    “You may refer to me as Luke if you wish, Foxhaven if my Christian name feels too familiar and offends your sensibilities. But our association warrants discarding such formalities as Your Grace.”
    She looked up at him with a cautious slant of her head. “And what is the nature of our association?”
    He crouched down in front of her as if indulging a child. “We are becoming fast friends, I believe.”
    “You want something from me I can’t give you. I expect our friendship will be short-lived. Perhaps we shouldn’t abandon our manners too hastily.”
    Plucking a blade of grass, he twirled it between his fingers. His lips thinned briefly, but then he bestowed another generous smile. His smile dazzled and did something unsettling to her insides, but she was beginning to distrust it. He used his smile as a cloak, she suspected, to hide what stirred behind his serious eyes.
    “Tell me how you envision your future,” he said. “Not the one you are willing to settle for in order to avoid the convent, but the one you truly desire.”
    She could easily desire what knelt in front of her. Foxhaven seemed kind and tolerant. She could grow to love him, to be a good wife, to honor him. But she couldn’t admit this to him.
    “I’m no different from most ladies. I wish to make a good match. If my husband is smart with his money, not too strict, and possesses all his teeth, I will be happy.”
    Foxhaven tossed his head back with a hearty, openmouthed laugh, proving he met her last requirement nicely. “Is that all ? I find it hard to believe you wouldn’t want more.”
    “I am hardly in a position to ask for more. You must know a woman has little say in such matters.”
    He sobered and nodded thoughtfully. “What about children? You mentioned providing an heir, but don’t you wish for