Page 5 of Wickeds Scandal
“I standduly informed, Lady Fellowes.” Lord Reynolds downed the brandy.
LadyFellowes glared fiercely and waited for Lord Reynolds to say more. At hissilence, she stood in a huff and flounced to the door in a swirl of blacksilks. The library walls shook as she slammed the door.
LordReynolds shrugged and moved closer to the fireplace. His brow furrowed incontemplation as he reached into his pocket to produce a cheroot. A briefflare of light lit the beautiful planes of his face. He touched the flame tothe end of the cheroot with a sensuous flick of his wrist and took several deepdrags.
Alexandrascratched her nose, careful not to disturb the curtain. The dust reallywas deplorable. She watched Lord Reynolds with her left eye.His hair glimmered like a bolt of black silk, the strands curling just a bit onthe ends. The man really must consult another tailor, possibly one whoknew how to fit a gentleman. She could see the muscles of his thighs outlinedby his breeches.
The smell oftobacco reached her nostrils making them twitch. Terrified of sneezing,she scratched her nose and prayed he would leave. Lord Reynolds blewsmoke rings into the air as if he had all the time in the world. How longhad she been gone? Her uncle would bring the house down around her earsif he discovered her missing.Damnation! Why doesn’t the blastedman adjourn to the conservatory? I’m sure there’s a tasty countess or twowaiting for him there.
The darkhead swiveled in her direction as if hearing her thoughts.
Alexandra’sheart hammered in her chest. Carefully, she stepped deeper into the foldsof the heavy gold damask. Her nose twitched again.Damn dustycurtains!She heard him approach her hiding place, the stepsleisurely, as if he were merely taking a stroll in the park. The smell ofthe cheroot mingled with the cinnamon hanging in the air. Her hands beganto sweat inside her gloves. Dust tickled the back of her throat.
Thefootsteps stopped. What was he doing? She took a shallow breath,beginning to feel slightly claustrophobic behind the curtain. Could onesuffocate in a curtain? She closed her eyes. A dust mote danced onher nose. If she gave a fig for Lady Dobson, she would tell her thedeplorable state of her maid’s housekeeping.
Suddenly ahand shot through the heavy fabric, reaching towards Alexandra and startlingher so that the edge of her slipper caught on the bottom of the curtain.She tripped and grabbed at the material, inadvertently twisting it aroundherself as she tried to flee. The material pulled free from the rod as shetipped forward. Swaddled in the folds of the heavy curtains she landed atLord Reynolds’ feet like a tiny gold damask wrapped mummy. Lord Reynoldscursed and dropped his cheroot.
Which is howthe curtain caught on fire.
THREE
GoodLord! SuttonReynolds watched as his cheroot burned a hole in the writhing curtain. Asmall feminine chin came to rest on the toe of his boots. As jadedas he was, even Sutton could appreciate the irony of yet another womanliterally falling at his feet.
He bent toswat at the ember that rapidly burned through the curtain. The bundle athis feet made a muffled sound of protest. The bundle deserved hisabuse. Shehadbeen spying on him. He hoped it wasn’tLady Halston’s daughter, Eunice. The girl had been stalking him for weeksnow. He had last seen Eunice leaping at him from topiary at the Earl ofTrent’s a fortnight ago.
“Ow!”
Yes, hedefinitely swatted her too hard. The pleasingly plump bottom below hispalm was likely stinging from his ministrations. Couldn’t be Eunice,then. Eunice was much taller and so thin she looked as if she wouldsnap. Lord Reynolds smacked the plump bottom again.
The bundlestiffened in indignation.
An eyepeered at him through a gap in the fabric. The bundle twitched,struggling to roll over and free itself. After several minutes of twistingand turning like an earthworm, he heard a feminine sigh of frustration.
“Excuse me,”the bundle addressed him, “I realize we have not been properly introduced, butwould you mind unwrapping me?”
“Howincredibly provocative that sounds.” The bundle stiffened and gave asmall snort of disgust.
Suttongrabbed the end of the curtain and gently unrolled. A profusion ofchestnut curls spilled out, accompanied by an over abundance of bosom andsnapping gray eyes. The girl struggled ungracefully into a sittingposition. One dark curl fell over her brow. She pursed her lips andblew a puff of air to dislodge the curl. The spiral moved, and thensnapped back over her eye.
He held outa hand and pulled her up to face him. Petite and curvy, she barely reachedthe middle of his chest. The oval of her face was pale, her skin adelicate porcelain, her features altogether ordinary. Except thatthey were surrounded by a magnificent, dark brown mass of curlingtendrils. She didn’t look frightened in the least, just irritated,and apparently with him. He found her demeanor quite interesting.
“Eavesdroppingis a dreadful occupation. Do you see where it gets you? Nearlyroasted to death like a tiny partridge.” His gaze ran over the ringletsthreatening to escape what remained of her coiffure. He absolutelyadoredcurls. One might even call it a fetish. Sutton toyed withrunning his fingers through the twisting mass when a better idea occurred tohim. “I had a devil of a time making sure the fire was out. PerhapsI should just check again.” He leaned to examine her posterior.
She jumpedout of his reach, the tendrils of her hair swaying across the ivory tops of herbreasts. He tried not to stare. Her breasts were magnificent.Between the breasts and the hair, his interest definitely piqued. Thetightness in his breeches proved it.
“Are you allright?” he asked politely. She stared at him. Most womendidwhen they first met him. Sutton knew of his effect on women. Thefemale sex tended to look at him as if he were some sort of dessert.Although, this girl looked hostile. Perhaps she didn’t have a sweettooth.
Shooting hima look of reproach, she rubbed her abused bottom.
It was onlyher quickened breathing that gave away her distress. Each breath tightenedthe silk fabric of her bodice against the ivory globes of her breasts. Hehoped she would inhale deeply enough so that one of those magnificent mountainswould pop out. Or at least a nipple. His left hand twitched withthe urge to cup one of those perfect breasts in his hand. The thoughtmade it difficult to remember that he needed to chastise her soundly for spyingon him.
“I wasn’t,”she sputtered. Her brow wrinkled in consternation. Another curlsprang free.
Suttonwatched in fascination as the curl unwound, spiraling down her shoulder to liein the valley between her breasts. “Wasn’t what?” He forgot whatthey were discussing. Her lips were plump, like tiny pillows.Sutton forced his look from her lips back to her face and assumed a blandexpression.
“I wasn’teavesdropping,” she began to explain hastily. “I was looking for theLadies Necessary Room. The pins….in my hair…you see they were fallingout. My hair is quite unruly and the pins…” She spread her hands infront of her. “I got lost and then I saw the light and thought perhaps itwas the Ladies Necessary Room. But it wasn’t. I saw books andI….” Two spots of red appeared on her cheeks.
A flair ofannoyance washed through him at her words. Why didn’t she have the goodsense to shut up? Women had been lying in wait for him since he wasfifteen. The situation had only gotten worse since his return from Macaowhen his grandmother announced “open season” on his bachelorhood.Granted, wrapping oneself up in a curtain and being caught on fire was a bitdrastic, but he knew many women who would do far more to snatch a title.Disappointment filled him. Just another dull virgin of the ton, outhusband hunting. Albeit one with magnificent hair and an overabundance ofbosom.
