If my legs will support me.
Lavisham didn’t answer. He placed one hand on her stomach to hold her in place, his other, pulling at the fall of his own breeches. “I should have a knife around here. Or a letter opener.”
“Stop. This instant.” Josephine kicked out at him with her boot. “You’ll ruin me.”
“I know,” he growled. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Four
“Iam Lady Josephine Harrington,” she shouted out.
Or it may have been a moan.
Lavisham went still. Removed his hand. He took a small step back, leaving Josephine to dangle on the desk. “What?” He grabbed the lamp and brought it so close, the heat nearly singed her brows. His eyes widened dramatically.
Oh, what a lovely color of blue.
“I am Lady Josephine Harrington,” she said again, absolutely horrified to find her breast bare and completely exposed by the light of the lamp. “Anders didn’t send me. And I am not a courtesan,” she whispered.
Lavisham ran a hand through his hair. “Obviously,” he snarled.
Josephine covered her exposed breast with a ledger lying beside her.
“Why, Lady Josephine, are you searching through my desk in the dead of night, dressed as a…” He waved a hand at her. “Oh and that isn’t doing any good. Not wide enough.”
“A boy,” Josephine answered helpfully, clutching the ledger tighter.
“Only an idiot,” Lavisham snorted, “would think you a male. Not dressed in those breeches, which are indecent. Or with that pair”—he waved a finger in the area of her bosom—“thrusting themselves at me.” He scowled at her.
Josephine made another squeak.
“Oh, stop that. I’m hardly going to ravish you now,LadyJosephine.” He raised a brow. “Unless you want me to. You seemed to enjoy yourself immensely.”
Heat flamed up her cheeks. “I…” She hesitated. “Did not.”
Lavisham made an amused sound. “A liar as well as a thief.” He peered at her closer, brows drawing together until he resembled an outraged lion, his eyes widened a fraction. “You.”
Josephine dropped the ledger and attempted to clutch the remains of the shirt together. “Me?”
“Destroyer of hyacinths. And—” He sniffed at her again. “Yousent me those notes, seeking an assignation. Lavendar and vanilla. No wonder you smell like a tiny little cake. I adore vanilla.”
“I did not,” Josephine returned. “I—well I did send the notes, but I wasn’t seeking an assignation with Your Grace. I needed to speak to you.” She waved a hand, careful to keep the other clutching the shirt to her breasts. “On a matter of great importance. The incident at Lady Randall’s garden party was an accident.”
“Wait.” His head tilted. “Did you sayHarrington?”
“I did. More than once. There is an heirloom of my family that I believe to be in your possession?—”
“Your father was the Duke of Kenbrooks. Terrible whist player, by the way. He told me—” Lavisham stopped and took a much wider step back. He had the oddest look on his beautiful features, awe and a great deal of…fear?
“I am sorry for breaking into your home. But I had good reason and?—”
“You should be. I’ll end up firing all my footmen.”
“Oh, please don’t do that. It’s through no error of theirs that I ended up here.” She looked around him to see Willa’s lantern whirl about then abruptly drop to the ground. “I climbed the garden gate. I’m”—she lifted her chin—“quite good at being stealthy and going unnoticed.”
A snort left him. “Are you? Lady Randall’s hyacinths would beg to differ.”
“An accident.” She gritted her teeth. “I was pushed.”
