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She raised a brow. “I have no idea what you are referring to, but I do know that I never engage in that sort of gossip. Besides, what makes you think I am friendly with the marquis?”
“I was walking up from the stables when I saw him, er, help you from the Delleson carriage.”
Her chin went up. “I have no intention of discussing such a thing with you, sir.”
“You think me impertinent, I know, but Miss Winthrop, I assure you, I am acquainted with Miss Delleson and her set. If she has offered you a friendship of sorts I would be suspicious.”
“Because I am so far beneath her?” Sassy’s temper once again was on the rise.
“Because she would think so—not I,” he countered. “In fact, she could never compare with you, and you must not take it personally, for even an educated man, such as myself, though only a country doctor, would not be high enough company for Miss Delleson.”
She could not doubt the bitterness that tinged his every word. “Well, as to that, Miss Delleson, though it was her coach, was in the company of her Mr. Lutterel and the marquis when they saw me walking back to school from town, a bit laden with a package.” She shrugged. “I have a brief acquaintance with both the marquis and Mr. Lutterel, and they were kind enough to offer me a ride home.” She smiled. “You could say I was thrust upon Miss Delleson.”
The doctor ran his hand down her arm and took her hand to bow over it, when a draft caught their attention. They turned around quickly and found the marquis standing there, taking a quick observation. “Don’t let me intrude,” he said. “I had forgotten my gloves.” He took a few steps to a wall table, where he found them, shook them in their direction, and said, “Do,”—he seemed to pause for affect—“carry on.” A look in his blue eyes made Sassy shiver with something she didn’t want to contemplate as she watched him leave.
Sassy excused herself then, saying she had work to do, for her window wanted drapes, and hurried off.
The good doctor watched her departure thoughtfully before turning and making his way to the anteroom, where he went directly to Miss Sallstone’s private set of rooms and opened the door without knocking.
He found her there lounging on her settee with a book. She looked up and smiled hungrily. “James, my love, I have been waiting for you.”
* * *
The marquis was deep in thought as he sat back and leisurely enjoyed his brandy. Dinner had been a bore, watching Percy make a fool of himself over the Delleson chit. He heartily hoped that his good friend would see she simply was an addle-brained young woman who was both shallow and self-centered.
He sighed over it and eyed Percy, who had dozed off in his chair near the fire. At least they had a comfortable suite of rooms in the cozy cottage they had leased.
Bright green eyes flashed at him, and he wished he could reach for her black hair and undo its tight braids.
Her luscious lips formed a pout. He could almost taste her. The damned hard-on in his breeches made him damned uncomfortable. He could not remember ever being obsessed with a woman quite like this. Not ever, not even when he had been a lad and still naïve. Emotion was something he always controlled, but something quite threateningly out of control hovered over him, making him experience emotions he had never known were possible. What he felt for this damnable chit was impossible!
He tried to remember what she had looked like across his sheets in that strange hallucination he’d had when he first saw her in Sutton Village. Luscious full breasts with their hard pink nipples called to him, and he could taste them, as he could her silky flesh. Her scent was in his nostrils making him hungry, hungry for more of her. With his eyes tightly shut he could feel her reach for his cock and stroke it with her delicate fingers, and it felt so damn good!
“Bloody hell!” he said out loud, but Percy did not hear him and snored on. He got up and poked at the fire. Sitting next to her in the coach earlier had been torture. He wanted her alone.
He wanted to … what? Seduce her? Any fool could see she was an innocent, the daughter of a vicar; Sophy had told them both some of her background, which she had heard from her mother.
His affairs were always with widows, married women who knew how to please and had ‘understandings’ with their husbands, and occasionally serving wenches who also knew the game. That was the way of it—no complications.
But this one, this Miss Sassy Winthrop, drove his rules into the ground and buried them. He couldn’t think when he was near her. All he could do was feel.
He remembered the overpowering sensation he had felt seeing her in close conversation with Dr. Bankes. Jealousy and something else.
Netherby was not what it seemed, and part of his reason for bringing Percy to Delleson was to become acquainted with Netherby and what it offered in the dark.
One of the things he had already discovered was the rumor that Miss Sallstone and Dr. Bankes were lovers. In and of itself, that meant nothing to the marquis, but now, with Sassy in the picture, it meant all too much.
He should go out. The local tavern was a short walk, and the serving girls were pliable, but there was only one woman occupying his thoughts, one woman his cock pulsated for, and at the moment no other would do. He shook his head. He was in a damnable situation!
* * *
Sunday morning glowed through half of Sassy’s window, as she had completed one hanging of the soft green material the night before.
&n
bsp; With a stretch and a squeak, she pushed the covers away and hunched herself up on her elbows. A yawn forced itself out of her mouth, and she shook off her sleepiness as she faced the coolness of her room and made ready to bathe.
She then saw the wall clock and exclaimed out loud, “Goodness! Seven-thirty? I have slept right through services!”
