Page 113 of The Dangerous Lord

“There are other ways I can hurt him,” he said in a sly voice that sent a chill down Ian’s spine. “I wonder how my nephew would feel to discover me lying with his wife? Shall we find out?”

Ian surged through the door, slamming it back so hard that his uncle whirled around in the process of reaching for Felicity. “Touch her,” Ian warned, “and I’ll tear you into so many pieces they’ll never find you!”

Felicity had never been so happy to see her husband in her life. Though she undoubtedly could have used her knee trick on his uncle to great success, she much preferred to have her husband at her side for this. “There you are, my love! I was just telling your uncle how delighted I am to have joined the Lennard family. But for some reason, he refuses to congratulate me.”

“Come here, Felicity.” Ian kept his fierce gaze on his uncle. “We’re expected in the ballroom. Our friends are probably looking for us right now.”

“Probably,” she said cheerily and joined him at the door. Now that Ian was here, she was beginning to feel quite pleased with herself. She’d made her point with his uncle and had the distinct impression that he would hesitate to bother them any further.

She laid her hand in the crook of her husband’s arm, and he covered it with his, squeezing it. His gaze swept her quickly. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly all right,” she reassured him.

He returned his gaze to his uncle. “I’m warning you, Uncle Edgar—I protect what is mine. If you ever come near my wife again, there won’t be enough left of you to bury. Do as you wish with me but leave her alone. Is that understood?”

His uncle glowered at him. “We’re not finished, you and I. Chesterley may yet be mine. You still have to bear an heir.”

“Believe me, I have every intention of it.” Ian gazed down at his wife, and there was no mistaking the love in his gaze. “So we’d best get right to it, don’t you think, my darling?”

“Oh, certainly,” she said, beaming up at him. “We must start on it at once.”

They left his uncle behind, cursing them both loudly.

Before they could reach the ballroom, however, Ian whisked her into what looked like a study and shut the door, driving the bolt to.

“What are you doing?” she asked, startled by the sudden thunder in his expression.

“You must promise never to let that man get you alone again. If he’d hurt you, I swear⁠—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Promise me, Felicity! Or I’ll keep you locked up in here until you do. And the Strattons might find that odd in the morning.”

“I promise,” she said softly. She’d only gone into the room to have her say with his uncle, and now that she’d had it, she need never see the wretch again. He visibly relaxed, but when he made no move to leave, she added, “Shouldn’t we return to the ballroom now? You said our friends were expecting us.”

“I lied. Besides, there’s another matter to discuss.”

“What’s that?”

Eyes gleaming dangerously, he trailed his fingers over her cheek. “I hear that you consider me a most ‘troublesome husband.’”

She sucked in a breath. How much had Sara and Emily told him? Could he have disapproved of her methods? Ian was a very private person, after all. She deliberately kept her tone light. “Wherever did you hear such a thing?”

“Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently you were almost as busy spreading tales about me this evening as my uncle.” Though his expression still looked fierce, he hooked his fingers beneath her sleeves and drew them slowly off her shoulders.

Her pulse quickened, for his eyes reflected a decidedly wicked intent. He unfastened her gown. “They’re saying I have this annoying habit of making you feel things you shouldn’t.”

Trust Ian to use her words against her. “It’s quite true.” She pressed his hand against her breast to feel her heart pounding. “You see? You’re doing it now.”

“That’s what happens when you let a ‘tall, virile, and well-built’ viscount force you into marriage.” He ran his finger beneath the edge of her bodice until it skimmed her nipple, and she sucked in a breath. “Instead of holding out for the ‘penniless barrister’ you had your ‘heart set on.’”

She blushed. “Did they tell you every word I said?”

“Every word. Sara has an astonishingly good memory.”

And he clearly wasn’t angry. Or if he was, he had an odd way of showing it.

He peeled her gown and chemise from her shoulders, exposing her breasts to his avid gaze. “I especially liked the part about how you find yourself behaving most improperly when I’m around.”