Lisa nodded, still avoiding his eyes. “I—yes, thank you.”

He allowed a moment of silence to pass, and then pointed out gently, “You have not answered the question . . . but then perhaps that is answer enough,” he added quietly, sounding disappointed.

“I—it’s not—I liked your kiss,” she said finally if a little weakly.

“Did you?” Charles asked, cheering somewhat, and then tilted his head and said, “Better or less than his?”

He would have to ask that, Lisa thought with vexation and then said, “They were two entirely different kisses. Yours was gentle and . . . er . . . sweet. His was . . .” She briefly sought her mind for an acceptable description. Certainly, hot, passionate and overwhelming wouldn’t do. Finally, she said, “Hard.”

Lord Findlay blinked at the word. “Hard? What was?”

“His kiss,” she said with a frown. “That is what we are talking about, my lord. If you will insist on discussing this, please at least try to follow the conversation.”

“Yes, of course, my apologies,” Charles murmured quickly, his lips twitching again.

“So you see, they were two entirely different kisses. Impossible to compare.”

“I would imagine,” he said agreeably.

“However, perhaps if you were to kiss me hard, well, then I could compare the two,” she suggested as the idea came to her. Robert’s kisses had been heart stopping. He’d wrung passion from her as easily as the maids at home wrung water from a soaking rag. Really, it had been the most exciting, most enjoyable experience of her life. She was not willing to live with a lesser passion in her marriage bed. But she wasn’t likely to get Robert to marry her with him being such a dense and stubborn idiot of a male. But surely he wasn’t the only one who could wring such passion from her?

Perhaps if Lord Findlay used a bit more fervor in his kisses and didn’t treat her as if she were so fragile she might crumble under his passion . . . well, perhaps he too could stir those depths of passion from her.

It seemed perfectly reasonable to her. Findlay had already kissed her once. It was just that his had lacked the passion and fervor of Robert’s, but then it was possible that he had just been considerate of her being a lady.

She raised her head to peer at Lord Findlay to see what he thought of the suggestion and found him staring down at her with quite the most startled expression.

“Are you . . . ?” He paused to clear his throat and then said carefully, “Are you suggesting you would like me to give you a punishing-type kiss?”