Page 68 of Tempting the Marquess

“No, he’s not a bad man. He just has some bad habits, like bedding other men’s wives. Now, I personally don’t like or approve of affairs, but if the husband and wife have a certain understanding with each other, well, that is their business. David, though…I think he quite likes the danger of itall.”

“Or perhaps Mr. Underwood just misses his late wife terribly and doesn’t know what to do with himself,” said Samantha, unable to stop the nagging feeling that the man was lonely and needed companionship.

“Maybe,” said Caroline. “You were talking to him, Sam—how did he seem? It looked like he made you laugh at one point.”

Samantha smiled. “He did. Mr. Underwood is amusing, when he’s not attempting to shock your hair snow-white. I…I couldn’t help but like him. I don’t knowwhy.”

“David has that effect,” said Aunt Jane, rolling her eyes. “I’m always torn between wanting to strangle him and hug him. My husband just wanted to punch him in the nose. David is definitely not someone who does well in the company of othermen.”

“Southby wanted to punch him in the nose,” said Caroline, nodding.

Samantha frowned in recollection. It was true, Alexander had been rather curt with Mr. Underwood. Well, more curt than usual. Which was ridiculous. Mr. Underwood might have a scandalous reputation, but he ran around with married women, not young spinsters a third his age. “I’m beginning to understand what you meant about the Lords being overprotective in certain circumstances.”

“Dear Southby,” said Aunt Jane. “He inherited the dukedom at a very young age, you know. I don’t think he’s ever had the opportunity to sow his wild oats like most men. Nor would he even know how. He just takes on more and more responsibility instead. And I worry that one day, his burdens will bury him. Oddly enough, I had that same fear for darling William. He was always so reserved. Holding himself just a little aloof.”

Caroline grinned. “He just needed the right unconventional blonde to storm his lair and turn his world upsidedown.”

Samantha nodded, but one hand instinctively slid down to rest on her stomach. William still didn’t know about her pregnancy, but it definitely wasn’t something that could be written in a letter. And speaking to him face to face was entirely reliant on him recovering enough to comehome.

Oh God, did she want him to come home. To hear his voice and feel his arms wrapped around her. Six weeks already seemed an eternity, and she didn’t know how much longer she couldbear.

Why did love have to be sohard?

* * *

“Mr. Underwood,have some decorum, sir! She’s far too young foryou.”

William glanced sideways at the plainly dressed young buck standing next to him on the gravel path within Hyde Park, and sighed. This one was obviously fresh from the country—no one but ninety-year-old spinsters wore an expression of such appalled righteous indignation in London.

The stranger might have a small point, though. God knew what he’d muttered, or the expression that he’d had on his face as he watched Samantha stroll along the path ahead with Caroline and Aunt Jane, but from the naked horror in the buck’s tone, it had been something akin to a starving wolf spotting a plump spring lamb. Which was understandable.

After seeing Samantha at the theater, when he’d retired back to his bachelor accommodations and removed the disgusting makeup, wig, and ill-fitting clothing, he’d settled into bed and dreamed of her. Scorching hot, erotic dreams that left him rock-hard and aching—it seemed his cock didn’t care that she might well be an unscrupulous traitor who lured men in with false innocence and sweet words, then betrayed them. No, his idiot appendage just wanted to be deep inside her tight, wet quim again. Much like his lips and tongue wanted to worship her swollen nipples and clitoris. To feel the sting of her fingernails clawing his back, hear the sounds of her orgasmic cries as he filled her withcome—

“Sir! I must insist you immediately cease looking at the young lady like that, or I’ll...I’ll...”

Silently thanking providence for makeup thick enough to hide a flush as bad as a young lad seeing a naked woman for the first time, William thumped his cane on the ground and glared at the stripling. The fact that he would knock unconscious and hurl into the Thames any man who looked at Samantha like he’d been doing wasn’t in the slightest bit hypocritical. “Are you new to the city, boy?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” the stripling replied, the earnest outrage on his homely face transforming to confusion. “We just came down from Nottingham yesterday.”

“Well then, let me give you a little advice. Strong opinions are best saved for your social circle and relatives, honorably intended though they may be. Imagine if I had a temper, a weapon, and friends in high places.”

His eyes bulged. “I…I didn’t mean any offence, sir. I have sisters...”

“Then run along and see to them rather than bothering Mr. Underwood,” interrupted a jovial voice with a steel undertone. As the would-be knight in shining armor scooted away, William grinned over his shoulder at Lord Harold Havenhurst.

“Harry, my good man! It’s been anage.”

“David. Still causing trouble here, there, and everywhere I see,” said Havenhurst, clapping him on the left shoulder as he came around to stand in front ofhim.

Agony screamed through his body. Christ, he was going to pass out. But after a few shallow breaths, William gritted his teeth and jauntily swung his cane as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Tosh! I did the lad a service. If he continues around the city preaching like that, he’ll only wind up with a dagger between the ribs for his trouble.”

“Perhaps. But he’s right about one thing. Lady Samantha Buchanan is far too young for you, and already spoken for by someone far loftier than us, if what I think istrue.”

William froze. “Harry. I know your dear wife is a source of all sorts of delightful gossip, but please don’t say you believe that tasty treat and Southby will make a match. I’ll be crushed beyond repair. Those luscious curves would be wasted onhim.”

“Southby? I’m not talking about his grace, but young Standish. As soon as the marquess returns and is on his feet again, mark my words, there’ll be wedding bells a-ringing.”

“Oh? You think so?” William replied, stifling a smile.