Page 53 of Beyond Scandal and Desire
“Only one if we keep very quiet.”
A young lad of about twelve, no doubt the duke’s boot boy, opened the door and squinted out. His eyes widened. “Lady Aslyn! What are you doing out here?”
Mick held up a coin. “If you ask no questions, seek no answers and forget that you were awakened tonight by a knock on the door, I’ve a sovereign for you.”
The boy grinned. “I can forget. Easy as pie.”
Mick flipped the coin toward him, and the lad caught it handily. He turned to Aslyn. “In with you.”
“Thank you, Mr.—”
“No names.”
“Right. Thank you for seeing me safely home.”
“It was my pleasure.”
She seemed to hesitate as though there was more she wanted to say. Finally, she gave a little nod. “Good night, then.”
“Sleep well, Lady Aslyn.” Generous sentiment on his part when he hoped she slept not at all, preferring she toss and turn with thoughts of him.
She skirted past the lad holding the door, and he watched her rush toward the darkness, watched as it swallowed her up, and she disappeared completely. Everything within him wanted to go after her, wanted to save her from the heartache that was to come. But he’d waited so long, schemed so carefully. He couldn’t allow a mere slip of a girl with a tipped-up nose and a crooked smile to thwart him. Shoving back his doubts and ignoring the possibility of regrets, he tossed another sovereign to the boy. “That’s so if I ever call upon you to remember this night, you do so in extreme detail.”
“I can remember it all.”
“Smart lad. There will be four more of those for you if you recount those details to the persons I indicate.” He leaned down. “And just so all the details are clear, I go by the name of Mick Trewlove.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you, lad, should I need to find you, who do I ask for?” Since Aslyn hadn’t called the boy by name, he doubted she even knew who he was.
“Toby. Toby Williams. I’m His Grace’s boot boy.”
“Remember, Toby Williams, His Grace’s boot boy, not a word to anyone without my permission.” Turning on his heel, he headed back up the path, already arguing with himself, already knowing he’d just wasted a sovereign. He’d never call on Toby Williams to tell a soul what he knew.
Chapter 13
She hardly slept at all.
Sitting at a table in the gardens, reflecting on the tossing and turning and tangled mess of her sheets when she’d finally arisen from her bed, all she could surmise was that her body had been in need of . . . fulfillment was the word that came to mind. It was as though spending so much time in the company of Mick Trewlove had wound up her feminine yearnings until they’d felt a need to explode like a host of fireworks.
Guilt surged through her because she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. She shouldn’t have gone to see him, shouldn’t have allowed him to get so close, and most certainly should not have succumbed to the temptation of his kiss. How was it that he managed to elicit all these urges when Kip didn’t? Quite possibly because he kissed her with far more enthusiasm than the earl, that he gazed upon her as though she encompassed his entire world. Kip never looked at her with intense heat burning in his eyes, with desire and longing and . . .want. It was the last that unsettled her the most.
Because there was a secretive part of her that yearned for more than casual touches, a gentle press of lips and polite conversation. There was a part that longed for the wickedness.
And Mick provided it. He was a . . .
She didn’t know how to describe him: a scoundrel, a rake, a rogue. A man. A man who made her very much aware she was a woman. Even now memories of his touch, his mouth playing over hers was enough to make her feel as though the sun had dropped from the sky and fallen into her lap.
“Not making any calls today?”
Startled, she looked up to see the duchess standing there. “No, I thought . . . I thought to just enjoy the gardens, some tea . . .”My own company for fear a stray thought of Mick Trewlove might cause me to blush unbecomingly at inappropriate times. “Would you care to join me?”
“You seem lost in thought. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“You could never intrude. Please.” She began pouring tea into an extra teacup that had been on the tray when the servant brought it to her, as though she couldn’t envision her ladyship not being joined by someone. “I’ve grown quite bored with my own company already.”
The duchess sat, elegantly and delicately, as she always did. A good strong wind would no doubt blow her away. “What were you thinking of? Your wedding?”
