Teach Me Under the Mistletoe (2 page)

A brief glimpse of one petite ankle above her half boot tightened every muscle in Hugh’s body, and he forced himself to turn away, looking instead across the cemetery, with its pale headstones standing guard over the dead.

He shouldn’t have come, shouldn’t have succumbed to the temptation. Though the matter she wished to discuss intrigued him, he was well aware of the difference in their stations, so doubtless any fruit to be gained from the “matter,” would be ill-gotten indeed. He tapped his fingers against his thigh. What
was
she about?

At the sound of the cottage door, he jerked himself back from his musings and glanced up. Lady Caroline picked her way carefully back through the yard and met him at the side of the carriage. Barely able to breathe, Hugh extended a hand to aid her onto the seat. Offering a shy smile, she set her fingers against his palm, the ivory of her glove standing out in stark contrast against his worn leather work glove. Nonetheless, his fingers tingled where they met hers. Odd… that twinge of awareness hadn’t seemed so powerful when they’d first set out.

Gather your wits, man. She isn’t just a bit of easy fluff.

With erratic movements, he stepped away from the curricle and rounded to the other side. By the time he climbed in, the band around his chest had eased, allowing his lungs to draw breath again. He clucked his tongue and set the horses in motion, allowing them to set the pace. Abruptly, Hugh had no desire to hear about the matter Lady Caroline wished to discuss. Best he just return her home and then make himself scarce until she forgot whatever was on her mind.

Light pressure on his left arm startled him, and he glanced down to see her hand resting just below his elbow. His jerk of surprise led an equally startled Alexander to veer sharply to the right, hauling Jerome and the carriage with him.

“None o’ that,” Hugh growled under his breath as he brought the horse under control again.

Lady Caroline snapped her hand back. “I’m sorry. It was only I’d called your name and you didn’t seem to hear me.”

She’d called his name?

“It’s nothing. Ye startled me is all.”

“There’s a track.” She pointed at the lane ahead. “Just a ways farther along here. It’s a bit difficult to see, but it shoots off to the right.”

Hugh angled his head to get a better look at the lady. “Aye — yes, I know the trail ye mean.” It led to the rear of the formal gardens and was sometimes used by the groundskeepers. But how did she know of it?

“Please…” She returned her hand to his arm and squeezed. “When we come to it, will you take the cutoff?”

Whether it was her words or her touch that did it, Hugh found himself powerless against her beseeching. Unable to speak or even protest in silence, he nodded.

The track was little more than two ruts, barely wide enough for the curricle’s wheels. As they traveled along, the horses were forced to a slower pace. Even so, the little carriage rocked back and forth on its two wheels, tossing Hugh and Lady Caroline against one another with each bounce. Ahead, the trail ended at an overgrown boxwood hedgerow. Hugh pulled the horses to a stop. If they were to go any farther, they’d have to do so on foot.

The silvery sparkle of an oval reflecting pool beckoned through a gap in the bushes. Rimming the water on one side, a semicircle of wide stone columns rose, connected by heavy stone beams across the top. The first time he’d seen it, Hugh had decided the garden folly resembled a lady’s necklace the way it hugged the banks of the pond. Just beyond the structure, flat slabs of dark slate had been laid into the hill to form a natural terrace, off of which stood a smaller building crafted of brilliant white marble with pillars and trim in a distinctive Roman architectural style.

Lady Caroline didn’t seem inclined to speak, nor to exit the carriage, so Hugh waited. Some small animal rustled in the brush at the edge of the track, and Alexander stomped his foot. The late autumn sun beat down upon them, but any warming benefits were lost to sporadic stiff breezes.

In a blur of motion and a whisper of fabric, Lady Caroline twisted in her seat and faced him straight on, holding his gaze with her intense stare. “Have you ever kissed a woman?”

The reins slipped from Hugh’s boneless fingers. He returned her stare, all rational thought having somehow vacated his mind. “I-I beg yer pardon?” he managed to sputter.

Deep crimson rose from beneath her collar until it engulfed her face as she regarded him through feverishly glazed eyes. “I… that is… of course you’ve
kissed
a woman — several of them, I imagine. Unless you don’t like them, I suppose.” A sudden frown creased her fair brow, and she leaned toward him. “You
do
like women, don’t you?”

“What?” Hugh blinked at the crazed lady before him, trying to figure out what she was asking.

He wouldn’t have thought it possible for the red that had spread over her face to darken, but it did. Her frown deepened, and she seemed to struggle for words. “You’re not… er… you like
women
, not…”

The meaning behind her question struck him like a blacksmith’s hammer and heat swamped his entire body. “Aye,” he mumbled, bending and retrieving the reins. Unable to meet her excited gaze, he looked out over the reflecting pool instead. After a moment, he recovered enough to look at her again. “Yes… I like
women
.”

Heaving a loud sigh, she sagged, a wide smile curving her lips. “Good. Perfect.” The redness ebbed from her face, leaving just a trace of pink in her cheeks. “I need you to teach me how to kiss the way a man truly likes it.”

The reins slipped from his slackened fingers again.

Chapter Two

Kitty cringed at the horrified expression on Hugh’s face. She’d gone about it all wrong. She hadn’t the luxury of time, but she should have chosen her words with greater care, spoken them the way she’d practiced rather than blurting them all out at once. She’d shocked the poor man. He hadn’t moved in the space of several heartbeats, just sat there staring with his mouth gaping.

A strangled squeak emerged from deep in his throat, and he snapped his jaw shut. Shaking his head, he spun about and scrambled out of the carriage, moving so fast he nearly lost his footing when he landed on the ground. He cast one last glance in her direction and tromped off toward the pool.

Sighing, Kitty slouched against the seat and pondered her next move. Should she wait for his return?
Would
he return? Maybe she should just drive home.

And then what? Never go to the stable again so she wouldn’t have to see his revolted stare? Kitty scanned the gardens, seeking the charcoal gray coat, the shiny black hair.

There! He paced near the Roman folly, each step exact and measured. As he reached the end of the stone terrace, he turned and crossed in front of the structure again, using those same precise steps. He didn’t look like he planned to return to the carriage any time soon.

Kitty expelled an exasperated breath. Tugging her skirt upward, out of harm’s way, she thrust one foot to the edge of the curricle and then the other, and slid to the ground with a dismaying lack of grace.

Grasping her gown firmly in one hand, she trudged across the damp ground. Tall grass that had browned with the coming of autumn swished in the erratic light wind. As she neared the water’s edge, a ball of squawking, honking gray feathers exploded from a cluster of spiky rushes.

“Oh!” Kitty jumped backward. Her foot slipped on the damp ground, and she blindly clutched at the air, seeking a branch or a bush, anything to hold on to.

She didn’t expect the firm, muscled arm and almost pushed it away, but then another arm snaked around her waist, and by some miracle, she managed to remain upright. With her blood pounding in her ears, Kitty struggled to catch her breath. Slowly, she became aware of the warmth seeping into her from behind, as a tangy-earthy scent wound around her. Small tingles raced along her spine to settle in the small of her back.

“Oh, my,” she whispered. The touch was more intimate than any in which she’d seen Walter and Ellie indulge.

Before she could form a more rational thought, Hugh released his grip on her and took several steps back.

“There ye are. Got a good footing, ’ave ye?” His brogue had thickened somewhat, and the words sent small prickles along her skin, as though each one physically stroked her in places they shouldn’t.

A tremor began in her middle and burst outward, and Kitty swallowed hard. “Yes,” she croaked, then gave a delicate cough to clear her throat. Gulping in a deep breath, she turned. “Thank you. I shouldn’t like having to explain arriving home covered in mud.” She tugged at the lapels of her riding coat and tried to smile, but the intense stare he aimed at her withered the gesture before it truly started.

“Right. Are ye ready to leave, then?” He started up the path back toward the carriage.

“No!” cried Kitty.

Hugh halted his steps. He balled his hands into fists then forced them to relax before he turned around. “No?”

“You… you haven’t said whether you’ll do it. Help me, I mean.” She touched her tongue to her lips then released the words in a rush. “Will you teach me how to kiss the way a man wants to be kissed?”

“And how…
exactly
… do ye think a man wants to be kissed?” he asked, his voice so soft she almost didn’t catch the words.

Acknowledging that it was too late to retrace her steps, even had she the desire, Kitty straightened her spine and poked out her chin. “That would be what I need you to show me.”

Hugh’s gaze roamed lazily downward until it reached her feet and then just as painstakingly wandered back up. At times, he paused in his inspection, and once again she felt as though he caressed her without so much as touching her. Heart pounding in a mad rhythm, she barely managed to hold her ground without swooning.

“Why?”

“Be-because you’re — you’re a m-man.”

The corners of his mouth flickered in a near smile, and he glanced down the length of his body with a soft snigger. “That I am. But that’s not what I asked. Why are ye requesting such a thing? Have ye never been kissed?” he asked, abruptly meeting her eyes and holding them captive.

She’d been prepared to prevaricate, to play the blasé young girl seeking to add to her repertoire of experiences. But his eyes demanded the truth, and awareness bloomed within her, a certainty that he’d recognize even a slight variation of the facts.

“I… have not been, no. And I… My sisters… I…” Her chin took up a maddening quiver, and she clamped her mouth closed, counting to ten in her head while she composed herself. “I think you’re correct. We should return to Rose Hill. This was a silly notion on my part.” She nodded at the garden structures. “As much folly as these.”

Kitty moved to walk back along the path, but he blocked her way. Their gazes collided, held for a long while. Kitty had the feeling her soul had been laid bare before him, though his expression remained guarded, unreadable. What was he thinking behind that silent regard?

Just as she decided he must have turned to stone, he gave a slow nod. “I’ll do it.”

Relief and elation twined through her veins. “Y-you will?”

“With yer assurance that ye’ll tell me why.”

What was he saying? He was placing conditions on kissing lessons? Could she make such a promise? Had she any choice? Kitty tried to smile but couldn’t, so she nodded instead. “I… Yes, I will. Shall we get to it?” She glanced around. “Should we go someplace more… comfortable?”

Heat flickered in Hugh’s eyes but he was quick to shake his head. “Proper teaching canna’ be accomplished in one lesson. We can start today. But
not
until ye explain why ye’re asking.”

Scowling, Kitty jammed her hands on her hips and took his measure. His easy stance gave nothing away. The wind rifled through his black hair, and he cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

Kitty drew a deep breath and released it slowly. What did it matter if he knew the truth? After he showed her what she wanted to know, she need not see him again. “Very well,” she said, injecting a haughty chill into her voice. “If you must know, I’ve taken an interest in a certain gentleman who shall be attending my parents’ holiday ball in a fortnight. I should like very much to capture his attention… and then if we should kiss, perhaps his… affection…”

There. She’d said it. Her heart beat a mad tattoo against her ribs. Would the man keep to his word?

One side of his mouth twisted upward in a sardonic smile, but he held his silence.

Her feet were going numb standing still on the damp ground. She stomped first one foot and then the other, trying to encourage some blood to her toes. “Well? Where shall we start?”

His smirk widened into a grin. “First things first.” He stepped closer and offered his elbow. “A man ought to get to know a lady before meeting her under the mistletoe.”

Kitty couldn’t move. She stared at the extended arm, mentally tracing the deep creases in the dark woolen sleeve.
Don’t back out now that you have what you want!
Fixing her lips into a proper smile, she took hold of his arm.

With a gentle inclination of his head, Hugh McCollum settled his other hand over hers. The worn deerskin glove resting against the fine silk she wore emphasized the disparity of their stations. Even so, his touch stole her breath. The chill that had been playing along her spine earlier spread outward, and a shudder wracked her body. Had she just bartered with the devil?

* * * *

Hugh guided Lady Caroline along the path toward the hillside terrace. He’d lost his mind, no doubt about that. Just as there was no mistaking that he’d just sealed a deal with a temptress.

Great care had been taken in crafting the garden follies to make them miniature rivals of the most intricate of Roman ruins. On the natural terrace, smooth slabs of gray stone had been laid, each in its place, each as level as the best palace floor, the perfectly matched pieces fitted so tightly together, not even a blade of grass dared to push its way between them.