His Not So Sensible Miss (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time - Book 3) (6 page)

“
Does she interest you the
most?”

Emily shrugged. “Not
really.”

“
Then why her?” He
demanded.

“
She was next.”

“
Next?”

“
I study the authors in
order. I started with Aeschylus and now I am to Sappho.”

He groaned. “Who is next?”

Emily grinned up at him. “Socrates, of
course.”

He linked her arm in his and they
strolled in silence for a moment. She wondered if he would return
to the immoral topic or move on.

“
You have said Greece was
next on your list. . . “

“
Egypt was a fascinating
study. Would you like to hear about it?”

Chapter 3

Leaning against a tree, Dillon smiled
when Emily arrived. Though she thought she hid it well, Emily was
disappointed in not being able to watch him work, and quickly
quashed her unladylike thoughts.

He helped her dismount and tucked her
hand in the crook of his arm. “What will we do today?”

Dillon patted her hand. “All in good
time.”

Perplexed Emily allowed him to lead her
through a different path in the woods. They traveled a very short
distance before coming to a clearing and a lake.

“
I don’t see a
boat.”

Dillon grinned down at her. That smile
was enough to cause her breath to hitch.

“
Do you swim?” There was a
twinkle in his eye. Surely he wasn’t suggesting they take a dip
now. The water would be freezing, not to mention her shift would
hide nothing of her person when wet. Perhaps she shouldn’t have
encouraged the conversation of yesterday. Encouraged? She more or
less led it. What must he think of her now? “No.”

Dillon chuckled. Had he read her mind?
“Remind me to teach you when it is warmer.”

The tension left her muscles and Emily
relaxed.

“
Nor do I need a boat. He
led her to an area he already prepared with a blanket and
refreshments.

Her nerves were on edge. They were even
more isolated than before, even though they had walked paths
through the woods. What did he have planned and had she blindly
trusted him to be a complete gentleman because he had made no
advances before? Had their highly improper debate yesterday led him
to believe she was any less moral than she actually was? “What
exactly do you have planned?”

Dillon continued to grin. “Have you
ever been fishing, Emily?”

“
Fishing?”

“
I am assuming you at least
heard about this activity.”

“
O-of course.” Why was she
stammering?”

“
Shall we?” He gestured to
two poles by the water’s edge.

* * *

Any confidence he witnessed the day
before dissolved when Dillon placed the fishing pole in her hands.
He tried to show her how to bate the hook and could swear she
turned green. Giving up, he baited it for her and then showed her
how to cast out her line. First she snagged on a bush, second a
tree, the third his back, and Dillon took the pole away. She
remained mum while he cast out his own line and in short order
caught a fish. When he tried to show her how to take it from the
hook, her face went deathly pale and he soon gave up trying to
teach her and at her insistence released the fish back into the
lake.

They settled onto the blanket and he
withdrew wet cloths. “Which did you most dislike?” He grinned while
washing her hands. “The baiting of the hook or taking the fish off
the line?”

Emily visibly shuddered. “I am not sure
I will ever eat fish again.”

He tossed the cloths aside and took out
wine, cheese and bread. “The only problem is, I don’t know what I
will do about dinner now.” He turned serious. “You did make me let
my fish go.”

Emily blanched. Dillon couldn’t help
but laugh at her. “I am teasing. That was not my
dinner.”

She punched him in the arm. “That was
unkind.”

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth popped
open. “I am sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Oh, I’ve never
done . . .”

He silenced her with a finger to her
lips. He wasn’t offended. Her punch had been completely unexpected
and something no lady of his acquaintance would have ever done. It
wasn’t as if it even hurt. It showed how relaxed she was with him,
but that action was more of one of sisterly affection, somewhat
disappointing in a way. Despite that, she was a complete delight,
intelligent, witty and confident during their discussion, unlike
any woman he had ever encountered, then completely feminine, sweet
and helpless when faced with a hook and line. He couldn’t wait to
discover more about her.

“
It doesn’t hurt any
longer.” He patted his arm. “But you could kiss it to make it
better.”

Her blush deepened. “I am so sorry.
I’ve never done anything like that before. Truthfully, I’m not a
violent person. I don’t know what came over me.”

Dillon grabbed her hand, lifted it to
his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Think nothing of it. I was
teasing you abominably and deserved much worse.”

“
Still . . .”

“
Hush.” Dillon leaned
closer. “I am glad you felt comfortable enough to express your
feelings.”

Emily didn’t speak. His hand came up
and cradled her cheek and his thumb brushed across her bottom lip.
He waited for a reaction. Just one taste, then he would pull away.
One, simply, chaste kiss, not unheard of in a courtship.

He leaned closer and closer and Emily
didn’t move a muscle. His lips met hers, firm and gentle and he
pulled away immediately. It was safer this way.

Dillon looked down at her through
hooded eyes. Why did she look perplexed? Certainly she knew what a
kiss was, didn’t she? Surely she wasn’t completely ignorant. The
lady read about Sappho of Lesbos for goodness sakes. This could
only mean that intellectually she knew of the more pleasurable
aspects of life but had no experience. He would be more than happy
to show her all the wonders of physical pleasure.

Her eyes lifted up to him in wonder and
consideration. Did he read disappointment as well? He shouldn’t be
surprised. As far as kisses went, it was an extremely tame one.
Perhaps a longer kiss would erase the dismayed looked. He lowered
his head once again. This time he used a bit more pressure. His
hand found her chin and the other the back of her head. Gently his
tongue traced her lips. She opened and he entered. Though Emily
wasn’t exactly participating, she wasn’t trying to pull away
either. Angling his head he delved deeper, drinking her, tasting
the wine. Slowly, she began kissing him back, hesitantly at first,
as a babe takes new steps. When she began to imitate him, Dillon
all but groaned, especially when Emily quietly moaned
herself.

He had never kissed an innocent before
and had avoided it until this moment. There were a number of
reasons why he hadn’t but he could think of none of them now. She
tasted so good and responded enthusiastically. The planned chaste
kiss had quickly led to a passionate embrace. He burned to pull her
closer, mold her body to his, touch her everywhere. It was much too
soon and certainly not the right arena for such activities. Still,
he could not keep from kissing her. He’d never spent this much time
just kissing a woman. Usually it was just a prelude before he began
kissing the more delectable areas of her body, but he didn’t dare
move his lips anywhere else. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to
stop. Instead, he continued to ravage her mouth and she in turn
learned to ravage his.

Slowly Dillon pulled away. He had to
for fear of losing control. Never had a kiss led him to this state
before. Hopefully her education hadn’t been completely explicit or
a mere glance down would reveal how very aroused he was at the
moment. Such a sight would send Emily running and the last thing he
wanted was for her to leave him, especially now.

* * *

Emily slowly came out of her daze. That
had to be the most delicious experience of her life. Who could ever
imagine the melding of two mouths would be quite so incredible?
Nothing she had ever read before prepared her for this experience.
Then again, how would someone explain what just occurred, capturing
the feeling and yearning? Impossible! She was an intelligent person
and she couldn’t think of any way to describe what she felt except
wonderful, incredible, astonishing, magnificent and they were all
so inadequate. She lifted her eyes to his face and found him
studying her.

Dillon said nothing. He planted a
quick, chaste kiss on her lips and then pulled away, grinning
before he picked up the basket. “We should return. It has grown
quite dangerous to be alone with you.”

He stood, then held out his hand,
beckoning her. “Come.”

Hesitantly, Emily grasped his hand and
allowed him to help her to her feet. Her legs were a bit shaky at
the moment and she willed herself to stand. She took a step toward
him, wanting to kiss him again, but apparently Dillon’s mind had
moved on. How could he possibly have recovered so quickly? Her own
pulse was still racing.

Perhaps men just reacted
differently.

* * *

The following day Dillon was determined
to remain outside the cottage, not in the woods or by the lake. If
they remained in the yard there was still the slight chance of
someone coming upon them. If he kept that in mind, then he would be
able to keep his lips and hands off Emily. He stood in the road,
looking at the front of the cottage when she arrived.

“
What do you find so
interesting?” she asked as he helped her from the horse.

“
The yard and porch need
something I think.”

“
Would you care for my
opinion?”

Dillon immediately accepted and led her
to the front of the house. For the next hour she described the
different landscaping she would use and the flowers and foliage to
give the cottage a welcoming view. Dillon listened and committed
every plant, flower and bush to memory. Though consciously he
didn’t dissect why he made the decision, he knew the yard would be
planted exactly the way Emily described. He would have never given
a woman that power before. Such encouragement could lead the lady
into believing there was a future with him. Yet, he wanted it to be
exactly as Emily had described.

Though the temptation was strong,
Dillon kept himself from touching her. The night had been long
enough after that kiss with his body urgently desiring what he had
no right to ask of her. He was completely honest with himself and
knew that if he touched her, there was no guarantee he could stop
with just kissing. Nor did he want to put himself through such
physical discomfort again. Further, he had no desire to ruin Emily.
Their courtship must slow down and she must be given her season in
London. Hadn’t Marius done the same for Sabrina? Look how perfectly
that had worked out. It didn’t matter that Emily didn’t see this as
a season for herself. What mattered was that he would reveal
himself in London and surprise her. With that in mind, Dillon
reminded himself to move slowly.

The congratulations he gave himself
when she had gone were a small comfort. He’d been wise to wait
until she was back on her mare before kissing her. Pulling her
forward, he had kissed her with more passion than the day before
and Emily had responded equally. She had even gone so far as to
wrap one arm around his neck while holding the horse’s reigns in
the other. It took all of his willpower not to lift her off that
horse and carry her into his cottage. He needed to get his passion
under control before it was too late.

* * *

Two days later Emily arrived to a yard
full of plants and bushes. Dillon had already begun digging the
beds, filling and preparing the soil. It looked as though all that
was needed was to plant. It turned out to be exactly the plan.
Dillon had prepared everything and had somehow obtained the flora
she had listed off. He just couldn’t remember where they were to be
placed. In no time at all Emily helped by placing the various
buckets in the beds.

Dillon was grateful for the activity of
digging. It kept his hands busy and his mind almost focused. Was it
his imagination or did she look lovelier today?

Once the work was completed, Dillon
stepped back, hands on his hips, well pleased with his work that
day. While he’d finished the last bed, Emily had gone into the
kitchen to fix him a refreshment. The contentment he felt for the
work and the thought of Emily puttering in the kitchen was unlike
anything he’d experienced before. Could he hope that this was their
future?

Admittedly, the cottage wasn’t large or
impressive, at least not compared to his family’s estate or the
town home in London. But, this was his favorite place to be. He had
always been conscious when considering a young lady in the past,
wondering if she would be content to spend months here, away from
London. None of those he met would. In fact, he couldn’t think of a
single lady who would even stay for a week so far away from society
with no servants. Yet, Emily seemed to like the place. Or so he
thought. Maybe she simply didn’t mind since it was the only place
they could meet. Having lived with the duke, she was certainly used
to all the luxuries life offered, and surprisingly had offered to
fix him a refreshment.