Page 70 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
Jo stiffened—a defensive posture—then her lip curled. “She is, isn’t she?” she drawled right back. “The loveliest.”
Cole nodded sagely. “Indeed.”
“She is with the five Cherrington sisters and their brother, Mr. Charles Cherrington.”
“I see.” A note of understanding dawned in Cole’s tone.
“So, we are searching for a party of six ladies and one gentleman?” Winthrop said.
“Yes.” Jo looked at Matthew. “I suppose if they were going to come back, they would have done so by now.”
“You are most likely correct,” he said, avoiding meeting her eyes.
“I think we should divide and conquer, as it were,” Jameson said. “Crest, you search the Grand Walk and the Hermitage with Miss Porter. Cole, Winthrop, and I will search the South Walk and Druid’s Lane.”
Matthew’s gaze sharpened on his friend, and beside him, he sensed Jo doing the same thing. It was a slight—ever-so-slight—movement, and he wasn’t sure whether Jo saw it, but Matthew did. The very edge of Jameson’s lip curved up in a knowing smirk.
“Come along, gents,” Jameson said to Winthrop and Cole. “We’ll meet you back at the orchestra in half an hour.” And before Matthew or Jo could respond, the three men strode off.
Jo blew out a breath. “Shall we?”
Matthew nodded, his mind a turmoil. He could feel Jo’s eyes on him, though he still couldn’t look at her. His chest felt hot as a brand.
They started walking in silence, but as they turned onto the Hermitage, she came to an abrupt halt. Matthew had gone two more steps before his body obeyed his command for it to stop.
He finally turned back to her, managing to raise his brows. “What’s wrong? Do you see them?”
But she was gazing straight at him. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?”
I was going to propose. Then I saw you…and I couldn’t. That’s what is wrong.
He tried to think of Harriet Cherrington. But for the life of him, he couldn’t conjure an image of her in his mind. All that occupied it was the beautiful woman standing before him. How he wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her and touch her until she begged him for more. And then, afterward, he’d hold her close and they’d stare up at the quiet sky and talk and talk until dawn grayed the sky and London came back to life.
It couldn’t happen.
“This is more difficult than I thought it would be,” he managed.
She frowned. “What is?”
He glanced around. People milled everywhere, pretending like they weren’t watching this exchange. But they were. This crowd recognized him just as they did all over London. Just because Vauxhall felt magical didn’t mean it had the magical power of cloaking him from gossiping tongues or protecting Jo from the backlash of being seen in an impassioned conversation with him.
Swallowing hard, he stepped toward her and murmured, “Come home with me.”
She gasped. “I can’t! Lilly is here with me. The Cherringtons…”
Right. He was an idiot. He closed his eyes. She had people here with her. She couldn’t just leave with him. He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Matthew, what—?”
“Shh.” He shook his head. “Don’t.” Don’t call him that, he meant. Not here, in a public place. Not where people might hear and speculate.
He knew he needed to let Joanna Porter go. He just didn’t know how he was going to do it.
He would force himself, that’s how. Like he might force himself into sawing off his hand or jumping naked into the rancid waters of the Thames in the middle of January.
He yanked his gaze from her and made himself scan the path. “They’re not here. Let’s keep looking.”
He felt her confused gaze on him. He couldn’t blame her—he was confusing the hell out of himself.
