“Isn’t it always gentlemen who believe women of my age are too old to be of use to them? Men, it would seem, have the luxury of being any grand age to make an equally grand match. Women, on the other hand, if they are not married within a year or two of their coming out, are termed old maids and too long in the tooth to do anything but be shipped off to the country to be a caregiver for either their parents or their sibling’s children.”
The thought was not a pleasant one, but Molly was right. Society could be cruel and unfair to women. “Well, I shall not let anyone ship you off to the country, my dear. Not at least while you’re here in Rome with me in any case. I shall keep you safe from purgatory.”
She studied him a moment. Hugh met her gaze, and a punch in his nether region would have been less injuring. There was something about the woman in his arms that he relished. She made him think of things, of home and building a home, of children, while another part of her made him crave.
Made the rogue he’d once been when he’d had the freedom to do whatever he liked—before his brother’s demand had made him vilified by his peers—want to slip out of the dance, hide somewhere in this Roman villa and kiss her until the sun came up.
“You’re quite the gentleman, and I thank you. If I am to travel out in the country, I do hope you’ll accompany me. I should imagine you have seen many wonderful things in this country that a tourist such as myself may not know about.”
He could, he supposed, convey her down to Naples and show her his country estate. Hugh could picture her now standing on the balcony that housed the ancient city’s views beyond, the warm Mediterranean sun and sea air teasing her unblemished skin and sweet figure.
“It would be my honor to show you a little more of Italy if that is your wish. Simply tell me when you would like to go, and I shall arrange it.”
“Really?” she asked him, surprise blossoming on her features and making her even more beautiful than she already was.
His hand flexed about her hip, and he wished he could steal her away now. He coveted that what he was feeling about the woman in his arms was reciprocated.
Hugh steeled himself to finish the dance less he make a fool of himself with a woman he’d only known a day. It was only because bedmates had been absent from his life of late. His life in London had also plagued him, memories of everything he’d given up by agreeing to his brother’s demands taunting him of what he’d lost.
Now that he was the duke, he supposed he no longer had to hide away in Rome. He could return to London and take up his place in society. His mother had passed some years ago. His sister certainly would welcome him back, and he needed to be in England to support her.
But he could not. They had turned their back on him, and now he would never return home. Out of spite or pride he could not say, but England and the society he once graced could go to the devil. Which would mean that after Molly’s four weeks in Rome, he would have to say goodbye to her as well.
The latter impending day did not sit well with him. It was a day not to be borne.
Chapter 5
They returned home from the ball in the early hours of the morning. The impending dawn glowed bright on the eastern horizon, some of Rome's buildings already turning from dusky gray to a warmer shade of sandstone.
They walked through the courtyard in silence, Mr. Armstrong's warm, large hand on the small of her back, leaving her breathless and flushed. He'd been so very attentive all evening, so very handsome and sweet.
A woman could fall for a gentleman like Hugh.
A smile quirked her lips as they stepped into the atrium, a lone, male servant asleep on the chair near the door. "May I escort you to your room, Molly?"
"Thank you," she said, starting up the stairs, the sound of her name on his lips warming her blood. Molly's skin prickled, all too aware of the tall, muscular figure walking beside her. She had not thought to meet any gentleman while in Rome. This was a holiday purely to enjoy the sights of Italy. It was indeed a fortunate turn of events that Mr. Armstrong had arrived in her life. Ava had mentioned very little about Hugh, she had never met the gentleman, and had assured Molly that he was away from the city for the duration of her stay.
How very fortunate she was that he'd come back and decided to stay. Her trip to Rome already in the day she'd spent with him had been tremendous, and she hoped just the start of many more to come.
They came up to the door to her room, and she paused, turning to face him, having to glance up due to his towering height. "Thank you for the wonderful night. I shall treasure it always. I cannot remember the last time I had so much fun."
His lips quirked into a grin, his eyes inviting and warm. "The pleasure was all mine, Molly." He leaned down, the brush of his lips against her cheek making her breath catch. Should she turn just the littlest bit, their lips would meet. The scent of sandalwood teased her senses, and unwittingly she reached out, clasping his upper arms. Strong, toned muscles met her fingers, and she had the overwhelming urge to squeeze his flesh, see if it was indeed as strong as it felt beneath her fingers.
He pulled back, watching her. Time stood still. Her stomach fluttered when he didn't move away. She could kiss him if she wished. Did she want to? Did he?
Oh yes, yes she did, very much. His gaze dipped to her mouth, and liquid heat pooled at her core. Her breath hitched, she fumbled for the door handle, pushing herself into her room, and away from temptation. "Thank you again, Hugh, for the pleasant evening. Goodnight," she said, not waiting for his reply before she closed the door.
She stood there a moment, forcing herself not to move, not to wrench open the door and jerk him into her arms, taking from him what he was so obviously offering.
The sound of retreating footsteps sounded in the hall outside, and she breathed out a relieved sigh. She couldn't throw herself at him. They were starting to be friends. He was going to be showing her about Rome some more and the surrounding countryside. She could not jeopardize any of that. She wouldn't. Her time here was so precious, to start a love affair with a man she would not marry would be the worst decision she could ever make.
Her cousin played that game of giving herself to someone before wedding vows were spoken and had paid for her error of judgment with her life. She would not be another silly chit to be fooled by a handsome face and sweet words.
No matter how alluring that may be.
The following day Hugh was impatient for her to visit the Vatican, and by the time she had broken her fast in her room and come downstairs, a carriage was waiting for them to take them to their morning location.
If he missed her at breakfast, he did not say, and nor was she willing to give an excuse as to why she had not ventured down. After their almost-kiss last night, embarrassment had kept her upstairs.
Why she was acting like a blushing debutante, she did not know. From Hugh's easy manner and charming self, he seemed oblivious to what had transpired between them.
"I shall ride on the box if you do not mind, Miss Clare," her companion said, smiling up at Mr. Armstrong's manservant, Marcus, who had already sat on the driver's seat.
Molly took in the secret little smile between the two and wondered if her companion, too, was embarking on her own adventure, one of her heart. "Of course, if you wish."