Free Elise by Jackie Ivie

she said.
    “I doona’. Much.”
    “Then why must you make me do this?”
    “Let’s just call it payment for a bit of lampooning I’ve had to endure. And it’s rather amusing, I think. Doona’ you?”
    She closed her eyes again and took several calming breaths. There hadn’t been one gentle line to his body when he’d said it, either.
    “You can open your eyes, too. I’m na’ going anywhere.”
    She did. If anything, he’d gotten closer when he lifted his head atop his bent arm.
    “That’s better. Really, woman, you doona’ have much time. We’re about to be discovered, and I’m covered with your lip paint. I’m fairly certain they’ll know how it got there.”
    “So? I’ve been whispered about before.”
    “Well, I have na’. My reputation is impeccable. Until my name got linked with yours, anyway.”
    “That’s the price of a title, Your Grace.” She shrugged and tried to look at anything except him.
    “Do you know what you’re about, Elise? You claim you doona’ want a marriage proposal? Very well. Get on with it. You know you can na’ just compromise an eligible bachelor and expect to get off with a by-your-leave. We’re both too well-known. I’ll be forced to offer you my hand in wedlock. Or is that what you want?”
    This isn’t happening to me! She was not being threatened with marriage by the Duke of MacGowan, she just wasn’t.
    “Oh, Christ! It is, is na’ it? I had the clue in my hands and dinna’ even see it. I’m more dense than a sweep! That was the reason for your note, and the acting last night, and this! You expect a proposal from me. Not him. Me. Damn you.”
    She swallowed hard. “Just shut up, Your Grace.”
    “Give me the rag.” He didn’t wait. He reached over and plucked it from her, licked it, and slashed it across his lips. His eyes never left hers, and there wasn’t a bit of green to them.

 
    Chapter 6
     
    “Up you go now. Don’t mind this steed, my lady. His Grace has him in hand. Your Grace?”
    Elise couldn’t share her inner anguish with anyone, so she simply let herself go limp as Barrigan’s groom lifted her up to the duke’s arms. It was more of her rotten luck that her gelding had returned rider-less to the stables after her fall, and that MacGowan’s had stopped the moment his rider jumped from his back.
    “Relax. Pretend you enjoy this. I know I am. Pretending, that is.”
    “Why?”
    “Why am I pretending, or why should you, also?”
    Elise put her teeth together. She didn’t answer. It didn’t matter.
    “I’m pretending I enjoy it because it was my rescue. You were in distress. That’s an oddity none can believe. Or so they keep saying. I like that. Colin MacGowan, chivalrous rescuer of maidens in distress. Oh, pardon. You’re nae maiden. I keep forgetting.”
    She stiffened further, but that just made her back ache more.
    “And you should pretend to enjoy it, because it appears to fluster your man-friend.”
    “You’ve a lot of gall, Your Grace.”
    He chuckled above her head, and the chest she was staunchly keeping away from moved with the motion. “That I have, to be sure.”
    Elise sat with her legs overlapping one of his. He had the reins in his left hand and his right about her waist to steady her seat. She wished it didn’t feel as warm and right and safe as it did.
    Four of Barrigan’s grooms were accompanying them, along with Barrigan, Sophie’s viscount, and Sir Roald Easton. The last, Elise was studiously ignoring. Nothing about him appeared to be flustered.
    The sun was directly above Barrigan’s lodge, making every shade of color almost painful to look at. Colin felt hard and sturdy beside her, and the horse’s rocking motion made her back ache unduly from the taut posture she was forcing on it How she longed for the luxury of a good cry! She sniffed and hoped he wouldn’t notice.
    “You can lean back. Nae one’s looking, and I will na’ take it as a personal insult.”
    “Everything you do is an