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Silence fell between them. Finally, she said, “You might read them…and draw the conclusion that she has been irrevocably compromised and must marry that wretch.”
Ethan stiffened at the truth of her words. If the viscount had taken too many liberties with his genteel sister, the man would be brought up to scratch. “There are consequences to acting with disregard to her position. My sister knew of that when she sent intimate letters to the viscount,” he said icily.
The damn woman jabbed her elbow into his gut.
“That is why Jenna has suffered so much. She feared you would force her to marry that man,” Lady Charity whispered furiously. “Viscount Sallis has proven himself to be inconstant and a rake. Marriage to him would make Jenna miserable.”
“It would have been a sound match, and clearly, she liked the man well enough to send him intimate letters.”
“He kissed another lady while wooing Jenna! She deserves to marry a man who loves her with his whole heart and is faithful to only her.”
“His whole heart?” he asked, aware his voice was softly mocking.
She whirled around and lightly slapped her hand against his chest. “Yes, with this.”
It always fascinated him that people often relied on an organ that pumped blood around the body to make marriage decisions. He had learned to rely on the logic of his mind, his sister not so much as she owned a very romantic soul, and evidently this woman also.
Still, the fury resounding in her tone on behalf of his sister loosened some of the knots in Ethan’s gut. However, he had to warn her lest she misunderstand his stance on the matter. “I will allow you to deliver the letters to Jenna. You will do so in a few hours. Should you do anything to harm my sister, I will destroy you.”
Another affronted sniff echoed in the small space. “Warning received,” she muttered. “Present animosity entirely unwarranted.”
A wry smile curved Ethan’s mouth. He doubted she was intimidated. Lady Charity was clearly a woman who possessed all the trappings of gentility but was a hellion at heart, ripe to create a scandal at any moment’s notice.
With a muttered curse, she once again turned around.
“So, you’ve also a filthy mouth. Do you kiss your suitors with that mouth, Lady Charity?”
Her gasp of outrage at his ribald teasing echoed in the confined space. When she seemed like she would once again shift to face him, he wrapped his arm around her waist, anchoring her in place.
At his touch, she faltered into astonishing stillness. “Why Lord Ralston, are you by chance flirting with me?” Lady Charity murmured, amusement rich in her voice.
“An unnerving thought that,” he said, biting back a smile at her affronted sniff. “With all your moving about, it is a miracle the viscount has not discovered us.”
She relaxed in his hold, her back and lush arse pressing too firmly against his body. The feel of her against him was sublime. For an unguarded moment, Ethan ached and craved for the woman who had appeared in the hallway earlier like a vision from one of his dreams and now rested so easily against him. He allowed himself to imagine kissing her…just once, or perhaps twice. Deep, passionate kisses on that sweet, wide mouth that was deemed unfashionable by many. He allowed himself to taste her in his thoughts. To lick along her neck, down to her belly…and then…
Enough!
He used a mental fist to curl over the lustful thoughts, squeezed that fist and smashed them to oblivion. Lady Charity Rutherford was not the kind of woman he should ever have in his carnal thoughts. That honor belonged to his future wife, who would be a woman of genteel sensibilities. In truth, he found her entire family unsuitable with their flash and flamboyant mannerisms. Taking a deep, silent breath, he lowered his arm from around her waist.
She moved restlessly, and he could feel her impatience to leave their hiding space. This was not a lady who held still for long. “The viscount will soon retire to his bed,” he whispered.
“Why do you think he is—”
Her words dropped away as the rustles of fabric, and the unmistakable sounds of moans filled the air.
Bloody hell.
Ethan had been hoping the viscount would escort his female companion to his home this late at night for another reason. Considering how long they had taken to get naughty, he’d truly thought they might take their upcoming activity to another room. Damn it to hell. The sounds they were about to make would mortify any lady’s sensibilities, even an irrepressible hoyden.
“What are those sounds?” she whispered. “They are very alarming.”
“Do not peek,” he commanded gruffly.
“Why not?” she asked, taking her whisper even lower. “Do you think the wretch is hurting his companion?”
“The opposite,” Ethan said tightly.
There was a tense silence, then the damnable woman said, “I do not comprehend your meaning.”
