Free Dangerous Gifts by Mary Jo Putney

whispered. “The loveliest creature I’ve ever seen.”
    Then he bent his head and touched his lips to hers. The kiss was exquisitely gentle, totally different from the Duke of Hardcastle’s rough embrace. But sweet, so sweet. She yearned toward him, feeling the effect of the kiss in every fiber of her body.
    When he lifted his mouth away, she said shakily, “Is it wicked of me to enjoy that so much?”
    “If so, we are wicked together.” He wrapped her in a warm, protective hug. With a sigh she relaxed against him, feeling the beat of his heart. She was in love. Though she’d never experienced the state before, it was as unmistakable as a sunrise.
    Duncan held her for long minutes, stroking her head and back. Finally he said reluctantly, “I must return you to your godmother before I do something I shouldn’t.”
    She nodded, but didn’t have the will to move away.
    Slowly he disengaged himself from their embrace, his hands skimming over her back and hips as lightly as butterfly wings. “The fog should thin as we move away from the river,” he said in a determined voice. “If we follow the gravel path, we’ll be all right.”
    They set off, her hand locked in his. She counted her steps. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred. They walked out of the fog as abruptly as if they’d entered a lighted room. “How odd,” Leah exclaimed, looking around at other revelers who were discussing the strange mist.
    “Indeed,” Duncan said thoughtfully. “Almost unnatural.”
    As they watched, the fog began to disperse as quickly as it had formed. Within a few minutes it was no more than a strange, dreamlike memory.
    Lord Townley and Lady Wheaton appeared from where the mist had lain, both of them looking pleased and suspiciously mussed. As the older couple came toward them, Duncan said swiftly, “May I call on you tomorrow? There is . . . something very important I want to discuss with you.”
    “Of course you may call,” Leah said as her heart jumped. Might he be intending to offer for her? Though they hadn’t know each other long, there seemed to be a rare harmony, a matching of minds and tastes, between them.
    She hugged the possibility, knowing that she was grinning like a fool. She didn’t care. She was in love, and she thought he loved her.
    She had never been happier in her life.

Chapter Six
    Too nervous to eat, Leah was glad that Lady Wheaton was abstracted at breakfast the next morning. Downright dreamy, in fact, with a smile hovering around her lips. She looked ten years younger and far less jaded than when Leah had first come to London.
    Leah regarded her godmother fondly. If not for Lord Ranulph’s magic, it was unlikely that the two women would have ever become acquainted. Now there was a bond between them that was warmer than what existed between Leah and her mother. She owed the faery lord a great deal.
    For the first time in days, she wondered what he would want in return, but she felt too happy to worry about that. In olden times, favored servants were sometimes leased houses in return for a peppercorn a year, or something equally trifling. Lord Ranulph had said that he loved her music, and it was only the laws of his people that required him to exact a payment in return. No doubt his price would be like those peppercorn rents.
    Unable to eat, Leah mangled a piece of toast and hoped that Duncan would call early. But he did not come until afternoon. She spent the morning playing the harp and thinking about the evening before. The memory of his kiss, and his embrace, caused tingling energy to flow through her body. In a very real sense, she felt truly alive for the first time. Perhaps that was what it meant to be in love.
    It was a relief when a maid arrived to tell her that Captain Townley was waiting in the drawing room. Leah took a swift glance in her mirror. She looked beautiful. It had become hard to remember exactly the differences in appearance from before Ranulph had worked his spell, though she