“Hold your tongue!” Lord Holt growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“It’s true,” Cecily continued, undeterred despite the offense on the bewigged Earl’s face or how she might be punished later. “How long could you hide this fact from Lord Ashworth? Is it not better that he knows now?”
“Is this true?” Lord Ashworth demanded, his smile vanishing as he turned back to Lord Holt. “If Miss Mary has run away from home and ruined herself, I shall not want her in my bed.”
“I am sure she has not!” Lady Holt interjected. “Most likely, she has gone to weep on the shoulder of an old schoolfriend without telling us. We are sending out to check right now and will have her home before dinner, I expect.”
Schoolfriend? Neither Mary nor Cecily had ever attended school. Rather, they had been tutored by a series of severe governesses recruited by their grandmother.
“She had better be back soon, and she had better be untouched,” Lord Ashworth warned. “Do not expect a penny if you can’t uphold your end of our deal.”
It was every bit as mercenary a transaction as Cecily had expected, yet it was still horrible to have her suspicions confirmed.
“Mary will be back,” Lord Holt stated. “As my mother has told you. Likely, she has had a bout of pre-wedding nerves this morning and is only at the home of a friend, taking tea.”
“These young girls today are such flibbertigibbets, forgetting to leave notes when they go out,” Lady Holt laughed with forced humor that Lord Ashworth did not share.
“I cannot say I approve of such freedoms,” Lord Ashworth opined. “It takes the bloom off the rose, as it were. Now, the church is booked, our families have been told, and yet my bride is absent. What happens if you cannot find her, Holt? Am I to be publicly humiliated at the altar? What compensation would I be owed for that?”
“I… I have another niece,” Lord Holt suggested, sounding rather desperate, as he pushed Cecily toward the old man. “Cecily is still comely, although she has been out for… several Seasons now.”
Cecily inhaled sharply and glared daggers at the Earl as he briefly ogled her again. She said nothing. At least if she took Mary’s place, she could find a way to disrupt the wedding, even if that meant her uncle putting her in a madhouse afterward.
“No, her figure is good, but this one is too old for my tastes,” Lord Ashworth said dismissively. “Besides, she is a shrew. Theyounger sister is far sweeter and more compliant, I believe. That is what a man wants.”
“And you shall have it,” Lord Holt vowed. “Will you take some tea, Lord Ashworth?”
“No,” Lord Ashworth refused, unsmiling and thwarted as he made for the door. “Tell me when Miss Mary is back. I want to hear from her lips that she is unsullied.”
“Please, Lord Ashworth,” Lord Holt implored. “Do not let us part on bad terms. We are almost family.”
Wherever Mary was, Cecily had to find her and ensure that she never came anywhere within reach of this perverted dotard. There was only one person in the world who could help her, but would he?
Lord Ashworth turned back at the door with an evil smile on his wrinkled face. “If you make a spectacle of me, Holt, I will ruin you.”
CHAPTER 6
Lying in bed and gazing at the dust motes dancing in the golden sunbeams, Nathaniel found his mind turning again to the strange young lady he had met at Mildenhall House. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and the thought of her made him smile.
The dark-eyed woman had intrigued him enough that he had briefly considered asking Leo and Primrose for her name, but he had decided he did not want to endure their inevitable curiosity. How peculiar her behavior had been, how sharp her tongue—and how full and round her bosom beneath that blue silk dress…
Nathaniel laughed to himself as he relived the moment she had spun round to face him in the buffet room, her expression both so guilty and defiant. How audaciously she had faced him down despite being caught stealing food. Ah, the tilt of her chin and the insouciant toss of those golden-brown curls. Such gestures felt like invitations to kiss the pert young lady who performed them.
As he mentally studied the lovely thief from head to toe, he lingered once more on her considerable charms. If only she had been a lonely young widow, unattached and eager for company. Then, he might have stolen her away from Mildenhall House in his carriage and ravished her in this very bed to their mutual satisfaction.
As it was, he had no intention of seducing her, for such an endeavor with an unmarried lady was always bound to be more trouble than it was worth. Still, he could dream.
Before his hand could stray beneath the covers to touch his already hard cock and stoke his daydreams further, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching along the corridor and sat up with a yawn. The clock on the mantelpiece read almost noon. He had little regard for regular hours and preferred eating, sleeping, and conducting estate business whenever he willed.
The efficient double rap on his door told him that his butler was outside. Chivers cared far more than his master for doing the proper thing at the proper time.
“Come in, Chivers,” Nathaniel called with a sigh.
It was better for him to deal with the man now rather than risk him returning to disturb the peace again later. He was naked beneath the sheets—he rarely bothered with a nightshirt in warmer weather—but the linens covered him to the waist. If Chivers took offense at the sight of another man’s bare chest, that was his problem.
“A letter has arrived from Greyhaven Park, from your daughter, Your Grace,” Chivers told him, keeping his eyes slightly averted as he carried the silver tray to the bed. “There was a covering note from Mrs. Barnes to say that I should put it quickly into your hand, as you would want to read it straight away.”
“So Mrs. Barnes thought that I ought to read it straight away,” Nathaniel translated with a weary smile, taking the letter and breaking the seal. “If you send any message back to Greyhaven Park, tell Mrs. Barnes that I opened and read it immediately, Chivers.”
