Free Compromising Miss Tisdale by Jessica Jefferson

ordinary. They are such a deep blue—like the sea.”
    Though at the moment, Duncan acknowledged that her stare resembled nothing of the sea. Rather, it was a bit like slate—hard and unyielding. But still, it wasn’t stone he was after. He knew first hand that behind closed doors Miss Tisdale was not stone. Ambrosia Tisdale was a bit more like clay—turning warm and pliable under his touch.
    “So, it is settled. You promise to save a dance for me then?” Poke .
    “I’ve done nothing of the sort!”
    He arched an eyebrow. “Well, if you won’t save me a dance, then I will be forced to call on you at your home and discuss the matter further.”
    There was the flush of color he had been hoping to see! It spread across her cheeks and traveled downward till it vanished below the high neckline of her gown. Duncan found himself curious as to just how low that blush dipped.
    “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “I will save you a dance. One dance .”
    “I shall hold you to your word, Miss Tisdale,” he threatened playfully.
    “I’m certain you will,” she replied . . . not nearly as playfully.
    “I shall also save you a dance,” interjected Amelia. “I simply love dancing. Mama made certain that James and I were instructed by the finest tutors from the continent. A reel, perhaps?”
    He reluctantly shifted his attention from the uncomfortable Miss Tisdale to the uninspiring Lady Middlebury. The rest of the conversation was inconsequential, but was over soon enough when Amelia noticed an acquaintance of hers making her way down the walking path. Ambrosia bid him an enjoyable rest of the day, as was the expected response, and followed her friend.
    Duncan watched Ambrosia walk away, her pace slow and deliberate. He had hoped that somewhere underneath her calm exterior she was the tiniest bit affected. Had he caused her even the slightest stirrings as he now felt? Could she be warm with the sensual memory of their tongues intertwining during that first meeting in the library?
    He silently willed her to look back, just once, to validate his efforts. Just one casual glance over her divinely slender shoulder.
    But she never did.
    Duncan watched her walk for as long as she was visible. She nodded politely to those she knew and occasionally stopped to engage in polite conversation. He watched her disappear into the distance until she was nothing but an outline dressed in pale pink.
    A perfectly shaped pink outline.
    If he was going to be married, then he could do far worse than Miss Tisdale. Suggesting he seduce her into a compromising position was tantamount to asking a thirsty man if he’d care for a glass of water. Since that first kiss, he had remembered exactly how firm her waist felt under his hands. His fingers burned where they had grazed the gentle slope of her ribcage under her breasts. And her breasts . . . well, he hadn’t had the opportunity to feel them, but that hadn’t stopped his imagination from remembering just how magnificent they were.
    Duncan quickly commanded his treacherous mind back to the task at hand. He wasn’t seducing Miss Tisdale for sport or personal pleasure. It was a means to an end. It mattered little his personal attraction, for their marriage would be based on simple convenience and nothing more. After all, he knew he would never make a suitable husband. The best he could ever offer a woman was his discretion.
    Discretion was something his parents were never able to accomplish, he mused ruefully.
    Duncan began walking in the opposite direction, leaving his book upon the bench. It had been a prop, a suggestion from Kenning to make him appear more cerebral and therefore less rakish. But then he stopped and looked back, as if he’d forgotten something.
    He hadn’t forgotten, rather he was remembering. Duncan inhaled deeply, catching the distinct scent of mint in the air, the bouquet that Miss Tisdale left trailing behind wherever she went.

 
    Chapter 9
    “You have a