She dismissed the thought instantly. He was a gentleman. He would never walk and share such kisses with her if he was interested in someone else. She rounded the bend and stepped into the garden. Its enclosure was intimate and secluded, and she saw no one. She walked a bit further into the garden and as she turned to return inside, she saw him standing at the edge of a bush.
He stepped from the shadows with a look on his face she had never seen on him before. It was intent and piercing. A scowl settled on his face. “Why did you come out here, Constance?”
Her heart sank. She had obviously misread his signals, but it mattered not. She needed to speak with him. She walked deeper into the gardens toward the stone benches. “I thought you meant for us to meet here. I noticed you had not sought me out for any dances. I thought mayhap you wanted to dance under the stars again.” He had not approached anyone else, either, but she thought it unusual given the attention he had been showing her. Even this morning, her mother had remarked upon how often His Grace called upon her for outings. Constance knew she was being forward, but she fancied they had at least become friends, and she needed to know if he wanted more than friendship.
He thrust his hands deep in his trousers and rocked on his heels observing her. “Return to the ball,” he said coldly.
A flicker of uneasiness went through her. Her fingers played nervously with her gloves. Something was dreadfully wrong. He seemed so aloof, so unlike the teasing rogue she had bantered with. “I see. I had wanted to speak with you on an important matter but I will return inside, Your Grace.” She offered a small smile. “I look forward to our ride tomorrow, Lucan, perhaps we can speak then.”
“No.”
She paused and looked back at him, startled.
His expression closed even more. “There will be no more carriage outings, no more dances or opera visits. I thank you for the gracious time you have shown me thus far, Lady Constance.”
Her heart slammed into her throat. “I do not understand, I thought we—”
“You thought what? That we were courting?” He inquired in a withering tone.
She could hardly breathe from the emotions tightening her throat. Had he heard some rumor? Since their last kiss at the theatre he had ridden out with her on several more occasions, and they had even stopped at a coffee house yesterday, a thing which had scandalized Charlotte. Why would he be so cold now?
He seemed determined to turn Constance away from him, and she would not stay where she was unwanted. With pride holding her tongue, she swept past him and then hesitated. She walked to him, searching his face. “I feel you when you stare at me, you know. I felt you tonight before I even saw you. That has never happened to me before. Is it the same for you, Lucan?”
“It is dangerous for you to be here in the gardens, Constance. A lady would not have followed me out here.”
She stepped closer to him. “Your gaze invited me. I know it, and you know it, Lucan. I am a lady, but I have desires too. And I believe in pursuing what I want. Don’t you?” He must know what she hinted. She held her breath as she waited for his reply.
“Where is your chaperone?” he all but snarled.
“Charlotte can be marvelously tactful whenever she needs to be.”
“You cannot be a lady and a wanton at the same time, Constance. Your eyes beg me to kiss you, to touch you, to take you.”
She stared at him fascinated. “Are you saying a lady does not have passion?”
A tick became apparent at his jaw. “A lady’s passion is for her husband. Anything that is given or shown to someone to whom you are not married is the surest path to destruction and ruination.”
She heard the pain and something darker in his tone. She tried to hold his unwavering stare. It was almost as if he warned her away from him, and she did not understand. The undercurrent of pain in his voice tugged at her. “You speak from experience?”
“I do.”
She jerked. “You have ruined someone?”
His mouth was edged with cruelty when he smiled. “No. Someone that I held dear was used, disgraced, and abandoned by someone who claimed to love her.”
“Oh my goodness.” Constance wanted to ask him who was this person he held dear, but knew he would not disclose such confidence. She noted the flash of pain beneath his cold exterior and wished she was able to draw it all from him. Her decision to leave was thwarted by his revelations. She courted a dangerous situation, but she would not remain long. Even though she now realized she dreamed about a man who had hidden depths she might never be able to reach. “Where is she now?”
“Dead.”
He said it so flatly it took her moments for the import of his word to sink in.