She pressed a hand over her thudding heart. “He’s . . . he’s asleep.”
“Check the door for the key,” Royal said quietly.
“Right.” She scolded herself for being a ninny as she hurried over to the door. Why was she fantasizing about kissing Arnprior? Even in her dreams, she had no business thinking of her employer in so scandalous a manner, no matter how handsome he might be.
And no matter how much she was convinced he needed her—needed her in some way she had yet to define.
There was no confounded key in the door. But just to make sure, she rattled the knob. The door remained firmly locked.
A freezing gust blew through the open window, causing the drapes to billow out like a giant’s cloak. Shivering, she hurried back to the others.
“It’s not there,” she said.
“Naturally,” Royal said.
Angus, now carrying the lamp, jerked it up to look at her. With the light flickering erratically over the men’s faces, casting their eyes into deeply shadowed sockets, they looked rather like ghouls.
Victoria tried to repress a shiver, annoyed that she was letting her nerves get the best of her.
“Are ye all right, lassie?” Angus asked.
“Yes, but it’s gotten very cold, hasn’t it?” The wind off the loch had picked up.
“Aye, cold enough to freeze the brass—”
“Yes, quite,” she hastily said. “I suggest you gentlemen go back inside and wait by the library door. I’ll find the key and let you in.”
“I think I should come in now,” Royal said, preparing to hoist up.
“You’ll do no such thing,” she said. Royal had been favoring his leg all day and the last thing Victoria needed was an injured man on top of an inebriated one. “I’m perfectly capable of searching for the key and letting you in as soon as I find it.”
“If my brother wakes up—”
She shoved him back and started to pull down the sash. “He’ll only wake up if you keep arguing.”
“But—”
She closed the window in their faces. When they scowled at her through the glass, she made a shooing motion, then soft-footed her way back to the earl.
The fire had burned down to embers that cast a soft glow, highlighting the planes of the earl’s rugged face. He hadn’t stirred, even though they’d made an ungodly amount of noise.
Arnprior’s hands were loosely clasped over his stomach, making it tricky to reach into his waistcoat pocket without waking him. If he came awake while she was in the midst of groping him, he could only think such behavior was highly inappropriate on the part of his employee.
Well, as her grandfather used to say, nothing tried, nothing gained.
Leaning over him—and trying to ignore the rise and fall of his exceedingly brawny chest—she carefully pushed aside the edges of his tailcoat. Thank God he’d unbuttoned that, at least. The thought of undressing him to any degree was having a rather marked effect on her pulse.
She’d just started to wriggle a hand into the pocket of his waistcoat when he moved so quickly that it was a blur. Between one breath and the next, he’d wrapped his long fingers around her wrist.
Startled, she let out a squeak and all but toppled into his lap. He clapped his other hand around her waist, holding her steady but awkwardly poised over him.
She jerked her head up to look at him. His amazing eyes gleamed at her like molten silver.
“Why, Victoria Knight,” he purred in a low, seductive voice. “What in the world are you doing?”
Chapter Fifteen
“Ah . . . ah, my lord . . .” Victoria stammered like a schoolgirl, unable to voice a coherent thought. In fact, she seemed unable to do anything but stare into his riveting gaze.
