affaire . A slapped cheek had demonstrated just how passionate her nature was—and how far he had misjudged the situation. Then, lest he had not quite understood her message, she had sent him a very sharp letter, telling him to keep out of her way in future. Ordering him, in fact.
Richard had had no intention of doing so and he was assisted in the matter by the fact that society in the Midwinter villages was small and they were forever being thrown into each other’s company. Deb had tried to ignore him and Richard had delighted in teasing her by straying close to the line that she had drawn. She had reacted disdainfully, yet underneath he had sensed that her reluctant attraction to him was still there and that it troubled her deeply. It also stirred in him a desire greater than he had ever known.
But then two things had happened to change the balance of the situation. Firstly, Richard had renewed his friendship with Ross Marney, under whom he had served at sea. Ross was his senior by several years and there had always been a mutual respect between the two of them. Now that theywere living in the same neighbourhood, this quickly grew into a warmer friendship. Which made Deb, as Ross’s sister-in-law, firmly out of bounds to Richard. She became that most tempting but untouchable of creatures, the woman that he wanted but simply could not have.
As if this were not bad enough, Richard had crowned his folly with a final piece of madness. He had fallen in love with Deb and his ambitions had changed. Now he wanted to marry her.
He was not entirely sure how or why it had happened. True, they were forever in company together and shared an interest in riding and the pleasures of the outdoors. Even so, it seemed inexplicable to him. He was not a man who had ever looked to marry, for his elder brother had the responsibility of providing an heir to the dukedom of Kestrel. More to the point, he had never met a woman that he wanted to wed. Until now. And now, of course, his choice had fixed upon someone who would barely give him the time of day, let alone her hand in marriage.
Richard had told himself many times that his ardour was the natural result of being denied something that he wanted. He told himself that he would soon overcome this temporary difficulty and be cured.
He knew that he deceived himself.
It was also clear that he had not a hope in hell of achieving his ambition of marriage to Deborah, for whilst he had been languishing like a lovestruck boy rather than a man of experience, Deb’s feelings for him had undergone no such radical change. She still despised his reputation and, as a result, would not let him close. It was barely surprising, given that he had marked his card when he had asked her to be his mistress.
Richard knew that he could not undo the past. For years he had revelled in his status as one of the most dangerousrakes in London. He had exploited it, enjoyed it to the full. Now it could deny him the one thing that he wanted above all else. It was an irony that he could appreciate.
And in addition there was another obstacle. Richard had heard from Ross Marney amongst others that Deb’s first marriage had been very unhappy and that she did not look to wed again. Taken all in all, the barriers seemed formidable. And yet Richard knew that he was going to try. His courtship would not be in the least conventional, but it was his most ardent intention to oblige Deb to admit her feelings and to persuade her that, despite her misgivings, they were meant to be together.
He brought his horse alongside hers and was amused when she twitched her reins to draw a little way away from him.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said smoothly. ‘I was attempting to compliment your riding skills. You controlled your horse magnificently back there. But perhaps you do not care for compliments from a circus rider?’
Deb turned her face away so that all he could see was her charming profile beneath the brim of her saucy