Page 84 of Thief of the Ton
“Miss Howard, perhaps?”
“Miss Howard is more accomplished than I,” Miss de Grande replied. “But it is her misfortune that her attributes are too often overlooked by those who don’t understand her. What did you think of her?”
“She seems pleasant enough,” he said. “But I’m not here to talk about Miss Howard.”
“Eleanor is my friend, Lord Marlow.”
“Then I shall resolve to like her foryoursake.”
She met his gaze, and a smile danced in her eyes.
The time had come. “Miss de Grande…” He hesitated. “Lavinia—may I be permitted to tell you something?”
Her eyes widened, and he could swear he glimpsed fear in their expression.
“I’m afraid I’ve been less than honest with you,” he continued, “but I value you too deeply to continue the deception.”
A delicate bloom spread across her cheeks. “You—valueme?”
“Can you be in any doubt?”
Before she could reply, footsteps approached, together with the tap-tapping of a cane. The door opened, and Lady Yates strode in.
“Lord Marlow,” she said. “What a pleasure.” She glanced toward her niece. “Lavinia, is Miss Howard not here?”
“She left, Aunt, which is why I asked Wilkins to send for you.”
“Quite so. I’m glad to see you’re capable of observing propriety, though not as often as I’d like.” She fixed Peregrine with a stare. “Are you here to see me, Lord Marlow, or my niece?”
He found himself blushing under her gaze—a look as sharp as a knife, capable of filleting a hindquarter of pork at twenty paces.
Then the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile of satisfaction.
A ripple of relief surged through him. If Lady Yates approved of him as suitor for her charge, then the battle was half won. Many chaperones tasked themselves with directing their charges toward the suitor of whom they approved the most.
“Lord Marlow is here to seebothof us, Aunt,” Miss de Grande said. “Is that not right, your lordship?”
She cast Peregrine a saucy smile. He returned the smile, then lowered his gaze to her neckline, below which two stiff little peaks poked against the fabric of her gown.
Sweet heaven! Were it not for her aunt’s presence, he’d be fighting the urge to leap across the parlor and take her on the sofa. He closed his eyes as the image flooded his mind—Miss de Grande, her skirts about her waist, parting her thighs to offer her sweet pink flesh to him… Her mouth opening into a wide O of surprise when he thrust into her, claiming her as his… The little mewls of pleasure while her body tightened and rippled around his cock…
“Lord Marlow!”
He startled and leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs to hide the evidence of his arousal.
Sweet Lord—he was ready to burst in his breeches like a lad of fifteen! If the mere thought of taking her caused such a sensation, what would the act itself do to him?
“F-forgive me, Lady Yates,” he said, his voice strained.
“You seem a little…discomposed,” the dowager said. “Perhaps you thought my invitation somewhat forward?”
“Your invitation?”
“To dine with us tonight. My niece and I are sorely lacking in male company, though we expect Lord de Grande to arrive tomorrow.”
Miss de Grande nodded.
“Just an informal family supper, mind,” Lady Yates continued. “I find them preferable to elaborate dinners—don’t you? An abundance of rich foods lies heavy in the stomach.”
