Free Never Wager Against Love (Kellington Book Three) by Maureen Driscoll

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knighthood and Arthur promised to write his brother straight away.
    Arthur penned a note to Riverton, then wrote one to
Lynwood.  Neither mentioned a knighthood.
    *                    *                    *
    They made good time in Dumbarton’s well-sprung carriage.  As
Arthur sat across the carriage from Vanessa, he studied her very expressive
face.  Unlike the ladies of the ton who made serene expressions an art
form, Vanessa’s face was almost constantly in motion.  She had a habit of worrying
her lower lip when she was deep in thought.  When she was studying him, which
she did with unsettling frequency, her brows danced from a light frown to
surprise to something that appeared to be disapproval.
    Which bothered Arthur more than he cared to admit.
    “Does Dumbarton come from money?” Arthur asked.  Something
was a little off about the professor and he wanted to know more about the man
who could influence Vanessa’s future. 
    There went one of the eyebrows, cocked in surprise.  “I
don’t know.  We’ve never really discussed our families.  Most of our
conversations are about cases, although he has expressed an interest in taking
me to the continent to familiarize me with the most recent encryption
techniques.”
    Arthur’s own eyebrows took a sharp descent into a frown as he
imagined Dumbarton’s real reasons for wanting to spirit her away.   The very
thought made Arthur long to plant him a facer.  Vanessa wasn’t a lady, but
Dumbarton had no business taking advantage of her.  Not that Arthur’s future
plans were any more innocent.  But he was a gentleman who knew the value of
discretion.  She might not be well-born, but he’d treat her well.  She’d have
no reason to regret their liaison.
    “You have an odd look on your face,” said Vanessa, as she studied
him once more.  “Almost like you’re plotting something.  Are you?”
    “Of course not,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t notice the
burgeoning erection that had been plaguing him for most of their time in the
carriage.  “I was just thinking about how we should proceed once we get to
Norwich.”
    “So was I.  It will be rather late when we arrive, so I
believe we should secure a room at the inn Dumbarton directed us to, let the
innkeeper know we’ll be expecting a message, then…”  She stopped abruptly as
she realized where his eyes had strayed.  “Stop looking at my…”  She waved her
hand in the direction of her bodice.
    “At your what?” asked Arthur innocently.
    She pulled her cloak over her.  “This is why I should’ve
remained dressed as a lad.  To avoid attention such as this.”
    “I hate to disillusion you, sweeting…”
    “I wager you don’t.”
    “Be that as it may, dressing in breeches doesn’t let you
blend into the surroundings as you like to think.  Unless those surroundings
are the most vivid fantasies of a red-blooded male.   While your gown hints at
certain parts of your anatomy, your breeches leave little to the imagination. 
Especially when you have such a nicely curved bottom.”
    “I shall thank you not to speak of my bottom,” she said in
her most quelling tones, even as her heart began to race.
    “Then I shall just think of it.”  Arthur closed his eyes and
rested his head back on the leather.
    “Stop that!”
    He opened his eyes and his lips curved into his familiar crooked
smile.  “Only on one condition.”
    “This is hardly a matter to be negotiated.”
    “Oh, but you’re wrong.  Negotiation is at the heart of all
human interaction, especially the fun ones.  Here are my terms:  You give me
one kiss.  Only one, mind you.  I wouldn’t want you to get carried away and
take advantage of me.  If you give me one kiss, I shall cease picturing you in
your breeches and think instead of the kiss.”
    “I would rather you’d think of a way for us to carry out our
mission in Norwich.”
    “I’m leaving that to your superior