Free Royal's Bride by Kat Martin

the sidesaddle, then swung up on the back of the bay.
    They rode in silence to the front of the castle and a groom rushed forward to take the reins. Royal lifted her down and they climbed the front stairs together. The butler opened the door and they walked into the entry.
    Jocelyn spotted her cousin coming down the stairs. “Lily!” she called out to her, catching her by surprise. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?”
    Lily turned. “I was just collecting a bit more trim for the hats I am sewing. How…how was your ride?”
    “Lovely.” Jocelyn thought of the kiss they had shared and beamed up at Royal with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Quite lovely, wasn’t it, Your Grace?”
    But he seemed not to hear her. His entire attention was focused on the woman at the foot of the stairs—her cousin, Lily Moran.

Seven
    “A ll right, Lily—” Jocelyn paced back and forth across the Aubusson carpet of the duchess’s suite. “I want to know exactly what went on between you and the duke before Mother and I arrived.”
    Lily just stood there, her insides humming with nerves. “I can’t imagine what you are talking about. Nothing the least untoward went on with His Grace. Mostly, I worked all day trying to make things right for you and your mother. The duke was polite to me, but that is all.” Unfortunately, she thought with a twinge of guilt.
    Jocelyn eyed her sharply. “Are you sure, Lily? You certainly seemed to grab his attention when we walked into the house.”
    Lily worked to keep her mind from straying to that one single moment, that beautiful instant when the duke’s gaze seemed focused entirely on her and for once Jocelyn was the one who was invisible.
    It couldn’t have meant anything. It was merely a trick of the mind.
    “You are completely mistaken, Jo. Since when has a man ever given me the slightest glance after he has been introduced to you?”
    Jocelyn flopped down on the bed and gave up a little sigh, mollified a bit at the truth of Lily’s words. “He kissed me this afternoon.”
    Lily’s stomach tightened. “Did he?”
    “He’s a very good kisser. I would rate him a nine out of ten.”
    Jo had a kissing scale? Lily knew her cousin had kissed a number of gentlemen, but she hadn’t realized each of them was being rated. “Have you ever kissed a ten?” she asked.
    Jo rolled onto her back and gazed up at the green silk canopy above the bed. “Only one. Christopher Barclay. You remember him, don’t you? He’s the fourth son of some obscure baron. He’s a barrister—young, though, not old. We danced at the Earl of Montmart’s ball and later we walked in the garden. Christopher kissed me. I should have slapped him, I suppose, but his kiss was definitely a ten.”
    Perhaps that was so, but Lily couldn’t help thinking that if Royal Dewar ever kissed her, it would also be a ten.
    Royal. She had never said his name aloud, but lately she had begun to think of him that way, as Royal, instead of His Grace or the duke. It was dangerous, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
    “So how was your ride?” she asked. “Aside from the kiss, I mean.”
    Jocelyn’s lips thinned. “His bloody horse nearly threw me—that’s how it was. I couldn’t believe it. And he didn’t do anything about it.”
    “What did you expect him to do?”
    “It was the horse’s fault. I expected him to do something. ”
    Lily ignored the outburst. Jo rarely took the blame for anything that happened. Lily wasn’t surprised she would blame the horse. “Did you talk about anything interesting?”
    Jocelyn shrugged. “He asked me if I could be happy here. I said that I could—as long as we also spent time in London.”
    Lily thought of the lovely rolling fields, the yew forests and the stream that trickled along the edge of the garden. There was nothing she would like more than to live out here in the country. “I wonder when he’ll ask you to marry him.”
    “Soon, I imagine. We’ll only be