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So that he would not be forced to choose?

Once Lady Darcy was out of the running and could not choose him, had he decided to let Drake win so he could eat with everyone else as well?

Mei’s stomach did a little flip.

Maybe.

When he turned to face the audience, who all applauded and cheered as the final contestants took their bows and curtseys, Mei would swear he looked right at her.

“What are they arguing about now?” Johanna mused, drawing Mei’s attention to Drake and Astrid, who were indeed arguing again. Astrid had her fists firmly planted on her hips as she shook her head at Drake, who had a rather dangerous glint growing in his eyes.

It turned out that Drake had very different ideas about what it meant that they both won than Astrid did—he wanted to choose to picnic with her, and she was insistent that he could not since she was the other winner. If it had been Lady Darcy and Sebastian in the winner’s seats, Mei was sure that Lady Darcy would have chosen one of the other gentlemen, and Sebastian would have chosen one of the other ladies. Of course, it could not be that simple with Astrid and Drake.

“Perhaps one picnic now and one picnic later?” Sebastian suggested, interjecting between the arguing couple. “Lady Astrid could choose a companion for now, and Drake and Lady Astrid could enjoy the second picnic basket for the next meal.”

“Done,” Drake said immediately before Astrid could respond. If looks could kill, hers would have been as sharp and accurate as her arrows. “That satisfies both of us.”

“Fine,” Astrid snapped, immediately casting her gaze across everyone else, calculation spinning behind her eyes. Mei pitied whoever she ended up choosing. They were not only going to have to watch themselves with Drake after this; they were going to have to picnic with Astrid while she was in a very dangerous mood. “Mr. Fenley.”

Both of the Fenley sons froze in place, and the elder one actually took a step back, which caused Astrid to send him a disgusted glance.

“You.” She pointed at Simon, who might have wanted to retreat but was possibly too frozen to move. “You will escort me on my picnic.”

“Um, yes, Your Grace. I mean, my lady. I mean…” The hapless younger Mr. Fenley looked at Drake and gulped. The duke was now glaring at him. As a foil to Drake, there was no one more perfect than Simon. He was Drake’s opposite in every way, which is likely why Astrid had chosen him. “I would be honored.”

Poor Simon. He didn’t sound honored; he sounded terrified, and he was likely right to be.

Sebastian

Time seemed to have slowed down interminably for the events of the house party. While he was waiting to be able to be alone with Mei, all he could think about was being alone with her. Touching her. Tasting her. Feeling her come apart for him. The way she moaned and sighed and gasped.

How it felt to be buried deep inside her.

To be curled up around her.

To have her beside him.

It wasn’t enough to sleep beside her; he wanted her beside him right now. He wanted the right to have her there, to know that she was his duchess, his wife, and that everyone else knew it, too. Pretending he did not want her was not only difficult, but it felt wrong.

By the time the evening came, he was more impatient for it to be over than he’d ever been for an evening to end in his life. He was not the only one. The younger Mr. Fenley was not his usual cheerful self—he appeared rather haunted by his picnic with Lady Astrid and hunted every time Drake looked at him. Drake himself was like a taut wire about to snap following his picnic with Lady Astrid when they came inside. He’d about thrown himself in his seat for the after-supper cigars and brandy, causing Mr. Fenley to wince.

Thankfully, no one seemed to want to linger other than the older gentlemen, and they were gracious enough about rejoining the ladies. Thankfully, everyone seemed a bit tired, and the evening’s conversation did not turn into more games or entertainment but naturally died out. A group for a nighttime stroll through the garden formed, but neither Sebastian nor Mei volunteered.

The garden was not nearly as conducive to a rendezvous as the back sitting room, especially with others wandering the pathways.

Tonight, Sebastian arrived in the room first, pacing back and forth impatiently while he waited for her to arrive. At the slightest sound of anything, he would freeze in place, waiting to see if he’d misheard, waiting to see if it was her. When the doorknob finally turned, his heart leapt in his chest, and when it opened to reveal her in her thin dressing gown, a feeling of warm relief bloomed.

She was here, and they were alone, free to be with one another, and everything that had felt wrong with the world felt right again.

It took two steps to close the distance between them. She had barely turned toward him, the door closing behind her, then he was there with his hands moving to cup her face and tilt her head back so he could claim her mouth with his own. Mei’s lips parted on a gasp, and she took a half step back into the door, trapping herself between the hard wood and Sebastian, allowing him to press himself more fully against her as her hands went to his chest.

Their bodies were flush against each other, and she arched into him, opening her mouth as he deepened the kiss. The feel of her, the scent of her subtle perfume, was enough to make him lose his head. Especially when her hands slid up and over his shoulders, twining around his neck.

The ache of his cock was insistent, throbbing, and he spun her around so he could back her toward the daybed.

A trail of clothing was left between them and the door as they stripped each other down, touching, caressing. Kisses were exchanged, parted, returned to. Every part of him was so aware of her, of her touch, of her responses. Moving his fingers over Mei’s body, he pulled her against him, rolling them onto the daybed and ending up with her atop him.

She gasped, staring down at him in the moonlight, her bare upper torso fully visible as he slid his hands up her sides to her breasts and cupped the soft mounds, keeping his gaze on hers the entire time. A hot flush spread over her cheeks. His cock was against the seam of her pussy, the wetness slick against the underside of his shaft. She squirmed atop him, leaning forward to put her hands on his bare chest, giving her better balance, and also pressing her breasts against his palms.