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“I do aim to please,” she said with a taunting smile, edging toward the door. Once she got through, she would bolt away as if the devil chased her.
“Did you learn how to fight and pick locks at the same place?”
How long had he been following her? To hide her consternation, she allowed her lips to quirk in a secretive yet taunting smile.
His blue eyes gleamed with harsh amusement. “Ah…I never knew 48 Berkeley Square to be this interesting.”
Her heart kicked painfully against her ribs, and she had trouble drawing in a breath.
How had he come to know of their secret ladies’ club? Surely Jenna had not owned to being a member! “What do you know of Berkeley Square,” she demanded tightly.
With a swiftness that Charity could not track, the earl lunged, grabbed her about the waist and spun, so they toppled onto the chaise longue by the fire. In an effort to twist away from underneath him, her legs fell open, creating the perfect space for him to rest his weight. Charity’s heart raced so swiftly she wondered if she was about to faint for the first time in her life. The earl was a tall man with broad shoulders, slender waist and hips, and powerfully muscled legs. She felt the imprint of him all the way to her toes, which curled inside her boots. The feel of him on top of her was very pleasant. To her shock, a languorous ache rolled through her limbs, and a peculiar feeling tightened her nipples.
And when did he start to smell this good? Not that she’d ever had cause to go about sniffing the earl. Charity flushed at her ridiculous, errant thoughts, blaming the highly unusual and scandalous scene in which she found herself. She needed to take control of a situation that was quickly spiraling out of control. Charity froze when he used only one hand to clasp both of her hands by the wrist above her head. She released a tiny, muffled squeak of shock before quickly finding the will to silence it. Still, an odd feeling of thrill blossomed through her, and Charity snapped her head up to look into his face. The earl’s eyes were closed, the skin drawn taught over his elegant cheekbones. A muscle ticked at his jaw, and this close, she saw the rapid tattoo of the pulse at his throat.
His eyes opened and ensnared hers. “I am going to reach for those letters, Lady Charity.”
She licked her lips. “Once you touch me…ensure you call upon my brother first thing to offer marriage.”
The fierce tension in the earl’s frame communicated itself to her, and a flush worked itself up his jawline, and he narrowed his eyes on her.
“Nothing could induce me to make such an offer for a hoyden.”
Charity felt quite mortified then, but she only glared at him. The refrain was too familiar, often heard in the rebuke of her brother and aunt, who told her no gentleman would ever admire her given her unconventional ways. Shifting so that he balanced himself on one knee between her legs, the earl used his free hands to pluck at the buttons of her borrowed shirt. Her breath lifted on a ragged gasp.
He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes. “This matter can be solved if you will reach for the letters yourself and hand them to me.”
“No.” She would only hand them to Jenna. The earl would have to take them from her, or she would blame herself for handing them over willingly. Charity only waited for an opportunity to buck him off her and make her escape. “Do your worst,” she drawled.
Admiration glinted in his eyes, and oddly it warmed her entire body. Before she could say any more, a sound in the hallway, then loud laughter, had them both snapping their heads toward the door. The earl moved with agile grace for such a large man, pushing to his feet and reaching down to help her up.
“We must leave at once!”
“Behind those drapes,” she whispered urgently.
They rushed to the heavy drapes and slipped behind them as the door opened.
“Be still,” he hissed. “We must not be discovered.”
The soft tickle of warm breath caressed her ear, kissing over the sensitive skin of her nape. Her heartbeat danced at a swift tempo. It confounded Charity as to why the entire night seemed so exciting. Even being so close to discovery did not scare her but delighted her senses. Should the viscount discover their hiding place, she would enjoy planting him a facer for all the pain he caused her friend. Surely, she could escape before he had the wits to recover and rouse the household or even identify her.
“You are not at all afraid, are you?” the earl asked right by her ear. “That the viscount might see the odd shapes behind his drapes and pause to investigate it.”
“No,” she whispered. “I am not.”
“Brave or foolish, I wonder which one.”
“Neither, simply determined.”
“How unusual.”
Why did he sound so captivated?
“Do not worry, should Viscount Sallis discover us, I’ll try my best to protect you,” she said softly, grinning, grateful he could not see her face.
“I’d noticed an unusual brawniness to your arms earlier, quite unusual for a lady. Never fear; I shall trust my safety to them.”
She laughed low and softly, surprised to realize how much she was enjoying their exchange, even if he had just implied he found her mannish. Still, Charity sniffed. “I am as delicate and graceful as a gazelle.”
