Page 27 of One Night with an Earl

A choked laugh escaped her lips. “If anyone was the fool, it was I.”

“From what I remember, you were quite successful in convincing me to share your bed. I’d like an answer. Why me?”

Her face grew hot with humiliation, but her body…her traitorous body responded to his nearness. Images of their night together were never far from her mind, and with him standing so close, she could smell his cologne, his unique masculine essence, and see the flash of desire darken his eyes. The fine cut of his coat revealed broad shoulders that were not the result of a tailor’s padding. She’d memorized every inch of his body that night—his broad chest, the muscles of his abdomen, the trail of hair that led below his waistband.

Sweet lord.

He studied her intently in a way that made her heart thump against her ribs. “I lie in bed each night thinking of our time together. Did you think of us?”

Yes. Her lips parted, and her mind scrambled to find the best way to handle him. “It was to be only one night, my lord.”

“That’s what I told myself when I allowed you to lead me to your room. But then I imagine your long, slim legs wrapped around me. Your rose-tipped breasts. All your silken, naked, and lush skin between your thighs. Even more devastating, the way I felt when I kissed you, held you.”

His brazen words caused her cheeks to flush. She didn’t fight him, and even though he did not touch her, she found she could not step away.

Her voice was a mere whisper. “So you returned to the Silver Chalice only to learn that I wasn’t there.”

A muscle ticked by his jaw. “Only to learn that I had been duped into thinking I’d slept with a courtesan. But I hadn’t at all. Who are you?”

“You know who I am. I am Miss Gardner. I am employed by Lord and Lady Malvern as a chaperone to their daughter, Lady Penelope.”

“Ah, Lady Penelope. Does she know?”

She felt as if her breath had been cut off. “No, no one does. If Lady Malvern knew, I would be turned loose without a reference.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair in exasperation. “I would never tell. You must know that is not my intent.”

Powerful relief filled her. “Thank you.”

“But I would like to know why you donned a red gown and presented yourself as Lady Scarlet. Tell me why you did it?”

“A man like you would never understand.”

“Try me. I need to know more about you.”

She needed to end this. Unlike him, she had everything to lose. She hadn’t counted on him visiting Madame Crescent in order to search for her or for him experiencing a similar longing after their shared evening—no matter how dangerous that longing.

Slow to come to her senses, she moved away and met his gaze. “There is nothing more to learn. As for the Silver Chalice, our arrangement was for one night. No more. Stay away from me, Lord Drake.”

Chapter Eleven

“The Evermans’ ball turned out to be far from what I expected,” Lady Penelope said.

“I know you miss your soldier, but didn’t you enjoy some of last night?” Ana asked. “What about your dance with Lord Falksly? He is a handsome enough fellow.”

“I admit he is pleasant to the eye, but he is not my Lieutenant Smithfield, my Timothy.”

Ana feared her young charge’s heart was lost and she would not look at another, no matter how handsome or charming.

The two strolled down Ludgate Hill arm in arm. It was a beautiful cloudless day, and Penelope had expressed an interest in shopping. The afternoon was even more pleasant since Penelope’s mother had a prior commitment with the ladies of a founding hospital and could not accompany them.

They passed a dressmaker’s, the latest French modiste who was all the rage with the ladies of the ton, and headed for the silversmiths and jewelers, Rundell and Bridge. It was Lord Malvern’s birthday, and Penelope sought to purchase her father a snuffbox as a gift.

The shop’s bells chimed as they opened the door. Ana’s eyes widened at displays of silver, gold, and precious jewels. Everything from fine jewelry—rings, earbobs, brooches, and pendants, all with precious stones of ruby, emerald, and diamond were a feast for the eyes. As for their other silver and gold work, each piece was exquisite. There were elaborate cups, tureens, tankards, candelabras, sauceboats, incense burners, trays, and silver teapots and much more. Rundell and Bridge were royal goldsmiths and jewelers, and she could understand why their work was in demand with the Crown and the aristocracy.

A shopkeeper was helping a nobleman, a duke from the way he was addressed as “Your Grace.” The duke was perusing diamond necklaces, and Ana wondered if it was for his wife or his mistress.

“Look over here, Ana. Which do you think my papa would like?” Penelope held up two snuffboxes, one silver and one gold.