"This will work," he said with great authority. "You'll see." She looked doubtful, but she nodded. Of course, there was little else she could do. She'd just been caught by the biggest gossip in London with a man's mouth on her chest. If he hadn't offered to marry her, she'd have been ruined forever. And if she'd refused to marry him . . . well, then she'd be branded a fallen woman an idiot. Anthony suddenly stood. "Mother!" he barked, leaving Kate on the bench as he strode over to her. "My fiancee and I desire a bit of privacy here in the garden." "Of course," Lady Bridgerton murmured. "Do you think that's wise?" Mrs. Featherington asked. Anthony leaned forward, placed his mouth very close to his mother's ear, and whispered, "If you do not remove her from my presence within the next ten seconds, I shall murder her on the spot." Lady Bridgerton choked on a laugh, nodded, and managed to say, "Of course." In under a minute, Anthony and Kate were alone in the garden. He turned to face her; she'd stood and taken a few steps toward him. "I think," he murmured, slipping his arm through hers, "that we ought to consider moving out of sight of the house." His steps were long and purposeful, and she stumbled to keep up with him until she found her stride. "My lord," she asked, hurrying along, "do you think this is wise?" "You sound like Mrs. Featherington," he pointed out, not breaking his pace, even for a second. "Heaven forbid," Kate muttered, "but the question still stands." "Yes, I do think it's very wise," he replied, pulling her into a gazebo. Its walls were partially open to the air, but it was surrounded by lilac bushes and afforded them considerable privacy. "But--" He smiled. Slowly. "Did you know you argue too much?" "You brought me here to tell me ?" "No," he drawled, "I brought you here to do ." And then, before she had a chance to utter a word, before she even had a chance to draw breath, his mouth swooped down and captured hers in a hungry, searing kiss."