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Her breath caught audibly and unknown sensations erupted below her navel. He was savagely beautiful, and nothing like her Mr. Atwood. The bold angles of this unknown man’s face hinted at restrained power. Cynicism and sensuality combined in the hard lines of his mouth. As she recalled the sublime taste and the feel of those firm, sensual lips, she trembled, noticing eyes that belonged to a hawk sharpen with interest. He continued to stare without speaking and a curious tightening sensation clenched deep inside, rooting her.
It made her feel very uncomfortable. In fact, he had a quality of stillness that she found unnerving. But it was his eyes…they were empty and devoid of the passion and intent she had certainly felt in his touch. Suddenly her heart ached for this man, whoever he was.
His expression was impassive. “I will ask again, who are you and why are you in my bed?” His tone was rough, and devilishly sinful.
Devilishly sinful…oh… She read too many romantic novels. Adel’s mortifying response must be on account of the few glasses of sherry. “Surely you do not expect me to own to my identity?”
He chuckled, the sound full of dark challenge. “Yes, in fact, I insist upon it.”
She blinked. He was most assuredly serious. The glow from the candle was very weak. If she could barely ascertain his features, surely he might not recognize her in the light of day. “I bid you good-bye,” Adel said.
She made to launch from the bed, and swifter than she tracked, a firm hand clasped her wrist. Sudden fear sliced through the false relaxation she had been lulled into by her liquid courage.
“Tell me your name before you leave,” he demanded, sounding earnest and mystified in the same breath. Then he scowled and released her, as if he had been stung. “Go,” he bit out sharply. “Before I do something foolish in my desire to find out who you are and how you had the means to enter my locked chamber.”
Who was he? And why was she in his chamber? There was a niggle of uncertainty, and she frowned, wading through the haze, the steps she had taken to arrive at this particular chamber. “Oh, God someone is going to come soon!” Adel scrambled from the bed, tripping on the sheets in her haste. A spasm of fear coursed through her at the realization Evie would have her mother barging in at any moment. “I thought you were someone else, and I must leave immediately. Please, sir, I beg of you do not repeat this story to anyone!”
There was simply no time for her to ascertain his intention, and to extract a promise of silence. On the heels of her proclamation the door was flung open and everything inside of Adel collapsed in dread. She would never recover from this.
Oh, God, Mr. Atwood.
She had lost him, and the hope of freedom.
The man’s hand darted with a speed she almost missed and his forefingers pinched the flickering flame of the wick, plunging the room into darkness. Only the light spilling in from the hallway offered some sight.
“Upon my word, Miss Adeline!” Lady Gladstone gasped, clearly able to still recognize Adel.
Her breath rasped and her heart pounded. No…no, no. She clenched her eyes shut. She couldn’t credit what was happening. Everything had been so perfectly planned. She couldn’t have been found in bed with a stranger. She hurried forward, praying she would not stumble. “I swear to you on my honor, Lady Gladstone, this is a dreadful mistake and there is a very reasonable explanation. If you would quickly close the door, I will—”
Heavy footsteps sounded and Lord Vale appeared in the doorway, and the hopes Adel had to extricate herself diminished by the second. What was he doing here? Confusion bubbled inside her. Where was Evie?
“Lady Gladstone, is all well? I received a note to meet you here most urgently. Decidedly odd, if I may so say.”
The earl’s gaze homed in on Adel and his eyes widened then narrowed in awareness. He glanced to the bed and rage lit in his eyes. “Who in the devil are you and why are you in a chamber alone with my fiancée, you blackguard?” Lord Vale demanded, storming into the chambers with his fists clenched at his side. “I will demand satisfaction for this!”
“My lord! I am not your fiancée.” The words slipped from her involuntarily and the room went deathly quiet.
A gasp sounded, and she looked past the earl and spied Viscount Ravenswood. His shocked eyes raked over her, before swinging to the darkened bed. Panic clawed at Adel’s throat. The situation was worsening by the second.
This was a humiliating spectacle.
The man in the bed said nothing. Was he in shock? Oh Lord, he must be. Certainly he was analyzing the dreaded implications of her foolish, foolish plans. What if this unknown man was married, or promised to another? The scandal would be horrifying. The light from the candles in the corridor was meager, and she was grateful his identity was protected. What if he had a wife?
He kissed you, a small voice reminded her. Surely a man who already held the affections of another woman would not behave so?
Please say something, she silently urged him, tears prickling behind her lids. As surely as she had ruined her life with the eyes of the ton looking on, she had compromised his. The most heartbreaking and alarming conclusions Adel realized, was that this had all been orchestrated by her dearest friend. The haze from the sherry was already lifting, and it was becoming clear what had transpired. After all, it was Evie who had snuck Adel new keys saying she’d made a mistake earlier. Evie was the person who had encouraged Adel to take a few sips of sherry, to bolster her nerves, and had been there when Adel consumed three full glasses.
Shocked murmurs spilled in from the hallway, and several footsteps sounded along the corridor. Seconds later Lord Gladstone framed the door, with the Viscountess of Marriot, one of the most notorious gossips in society. On a defeated sigh, Adel crumpled into the lone sofa in the chamber and buried her face in her hands.
Why, Evie?
…
I thought you were someone else. Edmond ignored the harsh gasp of those gathered in the doorway. His host and hostess, their son, the Earl of Vale, and Lady Marriot spilled farther into his chambers. Edmond supposed he could be grateful there was not a greater audience. He directed his attention to the young lady he had been seconds away from ravishing. He was much used to scandal and rabid speculation, but Society would not be kind to the unknown lady and
they would shred her to pieces. Although she had known they would appear. Perhaps she was more mercenary in her thoughts, and not as fragile as many of the young misses of the ton.
Though pale with fright and mortification, she was hauntingly lovely with a heart-shaped face dominated by enchanting almond shaped eyes, which were a stunning shade of hazel. Her hair was black as the deepest darkness of night, and her lips were wide and pouting.
