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“He is asking her to marry him, to let him spend the rest of his life making her happy. The fool.”
She glanced sideways at him. The earl was staring off into the night. “I would not think a man of your consequences would so easily disavow marriage.”
“I have none of the usual inducements of lords to marry, and I intend to remain that way. However, he is a fool to marry a woman who has so little trust for him.”
“Perhaps he is simply aware of her fiery nature and accepted—” she broke off at the cry of pleasure that rose from behind the shrubbery.
Good heavens.
“Ah, now they are making up,” the earl murmured, then continued smoking his cheroot as if two people were not about to make love a few feet from them.
There were several rustles and soft moans and whispers. Lucinda’s cheeks heated, and she fought down the blush.Oh, God, I am a woman of eight and twenty!Determined to remain unruffled, she dug her heels into the earth and pushed the swing. The earl did the same, and they swung in companionable silence, moans and groans keeping their company. The gentleman murmured something, his cadence this time deep and lush.
Chisholm canted his head toward her. “Let me in he says. I want to feel your warm wet quim squeezing on my—”
She twisted and slapped her hand over his mouth. The earl, in retaliation, bit sharply at her palm, and Lucinda felt the nip through her gloves. She lowered her hand and stared at him. “You bit me!”
He held out his gloved palm. “You are welcome to retaliate.”
At her aghast silence, his mouth turned up in a mocking curl. “Shy, Lady Darby? Is that a blush I perceive on your rosy cheeks?”
The flesh of her palm throbbed, and she worked to calm her pounding heart. God, what was this weakness that invaded her limbs? She held his gaze for a long moment, proving to him and herself she was unruffled by his provocation. “I am not shy.” Then before he could react, she leaned forward and bit the tip of one of his fingers.
“Good God, what sharp little teeth you have. I do believe you have drawn blood.”
Lucinda smothered a laugh.
A curious glint entered his eyes. “I did not think you would have done that.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“That I don’t.”
Something in his tone suggested he wanted to, pushing her to look away from his probing regard. The lady cried out something in Italian. Lucinda glanced at him, arching a brow.
“How good you make me feel, Alessandro. Do not stop loving me, my darling,” the earl translated, a wicked glint entering his steady gaze.
Lucinda did not blush or look away; however, flutters went off low in her belly. The man replied, something deep and guttural. Instead of translating, the earl’s eyes darkened, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. Unexpectedly her lips tingled, and a languorous ache rolled through Lucinda.
When his eyes met hers, they were darkened with an emotion she did not know and too intent on her person. Suddenly being outside alone with Lord Chisholm felt dangerous, for Lucinda was unbearably tempted. She looked into his eyes, struck by the painful desire to yield to the invitation in his silver gaze. What would it be like to have his lips against hers, to have him put his arms around her and press her body against his chest?Goodness!Suddenly she felt unsure, and that irritated her. She brought the swing to a stop and then elegantly stepped down. Breathing out a soft, shaky breath, she stood and dipped into a curtsy. “Good evening, my lord.”
Lucinda did not wait for his reply and ignoring the heat of his gaze, and the lovers’ voices pitched high with sexual excitement, she made her way inside the large mansion and to her chamber.
CHAPTERTHREE
Alexander George Moncrieff, the Earl of Chisholm, released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Viscountess Lucinda Darby had seen the raw desire that flowed through him to taste her lips, and she had not leaned into him but walked away. Alexander chuckled, dragging deeply on his cheroot and softly exhaling. She was an interesting lady. It had surprised him earlier to hear Lady Jensen mentioned the viscountess was twice widowed.
The lady was lovely, her skin soft and unblemished, her lips lush and given to smiling easily, her eyes a deep pretty gray, her hair a golden-blonde. She did not have the appearance of a lady over three and twenty, hence his surprise that she’d lost two husbands in her short-lived life. When he first saw her tonight, he thought her a debutante, then his memory had teased, and he recalled seeing her upon a few occasions at some society event in the past.
Footsteps crunched behind him, and he casually shifted. Alexander lifted a brow when he noted Lord Raymore, and Lord Beaumont ambled towards him with a cricket bat and a ball.
“Are you up for some cricket, my good sir,” Raymore called, tossing the ball in the air before catching it.
Alexander dragged on his cheroot. “You are aware it is a little after midnight, and there is barely any moon about?”
“Your age is showing, old man. What are you now, five and thirty?”
Alexander was two years younger, but he did not correct his friend. “I also spied Lady Jensen playing the pianoforte, quite angrily. I gather you are the reason.”
