Page 2 of The Moonstone Marquess
“…your nieces…and—”
He immediately jerked to attention. “What about my nieces?”
“Oh, so the mindless marquess does have a voice after all.”
“Who are you? Chairwoman of some society for the prevention of lechery and general moral perversion? Why did you mention my nieces?”
“Because they are here, you dolt.” Her hands were clenched into fists and her eyes were still blazing.
“Here?”
“Yes, they arrived in Moonstone Landing this morning. Did you not read your brother’s letter? The one that was waiting for you when you moved in last week? Or have your satanic rituals taken up so much of your time, you never bothered to open it and read what he wrote? Now, the little girls are here, thinking they are to stay with you for the summer.”
He wanted to shake his head, but it was pounding too hard and hurt too much to move. “No, there must be some mistake.”
“Obviously a lapse in judgment on your brother’s part. But you cannot send them back. They are too overset and already in tears. They seem convinced you want them. I will have you know, they will not set foot in your home until your lascivious friends are gone and the house is scrubbed from attic to cellar to rid it of the vermin no doubt brought in by them. They’ll be impossible to remove once they infest the woodwork.”
Did this gorgeous creature never stop talking?
“Nor will I allow you to set foot in Moonstone Cottage. It is my home, and—”
He drew her up against him.
Lord, her breasts felt good against his chest. “You live next door? At Moonstone Cottage?”
“Yes, if you were ever sober enough to find out and pay a proper call on your neighbors.”
“Who are you?”
“Let go of me and I shall tell you. Did you bathe in a barrel of brandy? You reek of it.” She pushed against him.
He released his grasp, but not before he had nuzzled her neck to take in her scent. Of course, she smelled wonderful. A hint of lavender and meadow breezes.
“Ugh! I rue the day Squire Westgate sold this beautiful place to you. Had I known you would turn his manor house into a brothel, I would have bought it out from under you. How in heaven’s name does Cain consider you a friend?”
“You know the Duke of Malvern?”
She nodded. “He is married to my sister, Henley.”
“You are one of the Killigrew sisters?” His heartbeat quickened. “Are you Chloe or Phoebe?”
She tipped her chin up in defiance. “Phoebe. That’s Lady Phoebe to you, although I would much prefer you never address me at all.”
“Phoebe,” he repeated softly, a smile spreading on his lips. “So you are the little lioness.”
She obviously had no idea what he was talking about. “Stop staring at me so stupidly. Can you do something other than gape? Good grief, now you are smiling. I forbid you to smile at me. And I am a woman, not a jungle animal. Speaking of which, I’ve seen jungle animals cleaner than you. If you wish to see your nieces, you had better wash up. And sober up. Dress like a gentleman and try acting like one. Can you do this for an afternoon? Let us say four o’clock this afternoon? Against my better judgment, I am inviting you to join us for tea.”
“I’ll be there.”
Her beautiful eyes narrowed. “Sober?”
He nodded.
“And groomed?”
He sighed. “I shall be presentable.”
He cast her another rakish smile that worked on most women, but only made her roll her eyes. “You are hopeless,” she muttered. “So help me, if you dare take a step out of line while at Moonstone Cottage, I will shoot you so full of holes you will look like a shredded pincushion.”
