Adeline should not be so informal with him.
* * *
Crispin was in the study of his father’s house attempting to answer a letter from his mother, demanding to know what progress he was making regarding choosing a bride, when the butler brought in a note on a silver salver. “For you, my lord. A footman from Watford House brought it.”
Finally. He was glad he hadn’t waited there all day for a reply. “Thank you.”
He tore open the seal, read the missive, and cursed.
It must be Littleton. How in hell had the man stolen the march on him? Crispin threw the missive onto the desk.
“Will there be anything else, my lord?”
He was surprised to see the servant still there. “No, that is all.” He had to answer Lady Adeline if he had any hope of standing up with her this evening. “Wait for a moment. I must send an answer.”
He penned a short acceptance and handed it to the footman.
There must be a faster way to secure the lady. As soon as they were wed and she was breeding, he could go back to Paris. This evening he’d ask for the supper dance for the next ball—that must be what Littleton had done—and to take her for another carriage ride. In the meantime, Crispin had hours before the entertainment. He wondered if Jean was up for another tryst. His cock hardened at the thought of her.
Shoving the letter to his mother aside, he dashed off a note to his lover.
My darling,
Meet me.
A.
Crispin sealed the note and tugged the bellpull. A different footman opened the door. “Take this to Twelve Green Street and wait for a reply. Do not tell anyone where you are going.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Not ten minutes later, the servant returned. “The answer is yes, my lord.”
“Very good. Have my curricle brought around, and tell Cook I shall want a picnic basket with two bottles of champagne.” It was a good thing he’d planned to eat at his club that evening, so that the cook had not planned on him dining at home. Angering that particular servant was never a good idea, and his mother would be certain to hear about it.
Crispin arrived at the small town house before Jean did, leaving it to his groom to take his carriage back.
He’d hired a maid of all work, and now he gave her the basket. “Set this up in the dining room. After you’re done, you may have the rest of the night off.”
The girl bobbed a curtsey, “Yes, my lord.”
A few minutes later, his lover arrived. “Jean.” He pulled her through the door and kissed her. “I am immensely glad you could join me.”
“As am I.” She rubbed her hand down his cock. “My, how hard you are, my lord.”
Almost hard enough to spill right there. “I brought a picnic, but I thought we might like to retire to the bedroom first.”
“An excellent idea.” She removed her gloves one finger at a time, and when she reached up to remove her bonnet, the fabric of her gown stretched across her breasts.
He couldn’t wait until he was inside her. “I want you.”
By the time they had reached the first floor, her bodice was undone. Jean laughed. “You are very good at that.”
“It’s a specialty of mine.” He gave her a playful grin.
In seconds, they were naked on the bed and he was licking and sucking his way down her body. When he got to her cunny, he stood and positioned her so that the tops of her thighs were at the end of the bed.
As he buried his nose in her sex, he saw it. “What is this?” Not that he didn’t know what it was. A string to a sponge. “And how did you know about it?”
