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Elizabeth’s mouth gaped. “You…you…” Nothing more would come out of her mouth. She had no idea what to say to a man who had just returned from a brothel.
“You might be right about Somerton being a poor influence, though,” Will said with a chuckle.
“I might have known you were with him.”
“Now, where were we?” he asked. “Oh, yes, back to why you are in my bedroom at night.” He pulled her closer again. “Not that I mind, but you should have given me some warning.”
He drew her against his chest. “I believe I must have misjudged you, Elizabeth.”
“H-How so?” She was so close to him, if she wanted to kiss him, his lips were only inches away. And blast it, she did want to kiss him again.
“I didn’t realize that you were the type of woman to enter a man’s bedchamber,” he said, then brought his lips down on hers.
This evening’s kiss was far more sensual than the afternoon version. His lips pressed to hers until she opened slightly to taste him. She savored the fine smoky whisky on his breath, and his tongue ignited a fire that burned to her loins. His hands reached for the ties on her dressing gown and released the tight knot. He spread the gown open, revealing her light cotton night rail.
He broke away for a moment to glance down. Her nipples were hardened into tight peaks that ached for his touch. With a groan, he kissed her harder this time. He brought his hand up to cup her breast and stroked his thumb across her nipple. Molten moisture rushed to her womb. Her hips rocked against his in an age-old ritual.
She moaned softly against his lips as his thumb continued its exquisite torture. He skimmed his hands down her back, flattening her to his chest.
She knew she should break away from his intoxicating body. Instead, she brought her arms around his neck tighter and rubbed her aching breasts against him. She wanted him to touch her there again. Worse, she wanted him to touch other places on her body.
How could something she knew was wrong feel so wonderful? This man was completely wrong for her. So, if that was true, why did she want to feel his naked skin on top of her? Oh, God, she was becoming a wanton. Her friends’ influence had finally rubbed off on her.
She broke away from him and ran from the room. Once she reached her own bedroom, she locked the door behind her. If he walked in here, she would have no self-control. She sat on the bed and waited, her heart pounding. Twice in one day, he had kissed her. And not just a cousinly peck on the cheek, but a passionate kiss meant to heighten her desire.
He never did find out what she was looking for in his room. Now she had the rest of the night to come up with an excuse. Was that possible? What would a lady attach to the bottom of her desk?
Jewelry?
Perhaps that was the answer, or excuse, as it were. She could tell him that her mother had hidden some of her jewels so her father would not sell them.
Elizabeth lay back on the bed. That made no sense. Her father wouldn’t need to sell any of her mother’s pendants.
A letter? That made the most sense. Her mother had hidden a letter from her father because…she was having an affair. No! Because her mother had stashed some money in a safe place, and left the note somewhere in the house. Elizabeth thought she could find the note, and therefore retrieve the money to use for her own security.
Perfect!
At least it would be perfect if Will believed her.
Chapter 11
Will paced the salon, waiting for everyone to finish their preparations. He needed to show the children the darker side of London. They had to realize that not everyone lived as they did now.
“Please rethink this idea,” Elizabeth begged him.
Those were the first words she’d spoken to him since entering the room. She’d made no mention of their encounter in his bedroom, and right now, he had no desire to speak of it. When they returned, he would ask her for a better reason why she’d been in his room last evening.
“I agreed not to take Sarah,
Robert, and Ethan, but the others should see how England treats its downtrodden. Today we will take Ellie and Lucy, and tomorrow I will take the boys.”
“And I suppose America has no poor?”
“Of course they do. Just nothing like the severity of London’s poor.”
“I do not believe you. All large cities have issues with poverty,” Elizabeth commented. “And many people are flocking to America now. Their poverty will only grow.”
“True enough,” Will said, as he strode past her chair again. He suddenly stopped and turned back to her. “Have you ever even seen what I’m talking about?”
