grunting,” he remarked dryly.
“You misjudge me, Marcus.”
Jane’s ears sharpened. Marcus? They were on first-name terms?
Marcus gave a short laugh. “Misjudge you? I think not, Amabel, for how is it possible to misjudge a widow who flaunted bright colors almost the day after her husband’s funeral?”
“Would you have me wear black for the passing of a traitor?”
“If traitor he was.”
“It was proven,” she declared.
“So it’s said.”
Amabel raised her chin. “And what brings you here to Mulborough, sirrah? The society of your dear friends. Lord and Lady Mulborough? Or is it perhaps because of Henrietta Courtenay?”
“Why should my actions have anything to do with her?”
“Because you had a liaison with her, and maybe hope it will resume.”
He became very still. “How did you know that?”
“She told me in London just after it happened.”
Jane and Kit exchanged glances, for Henrietta insisted to Charlotte that she had never mentioned it to anyone.
Marcus studied Amabel in the lantern light. “Well, Sutherton’s timely arrival on the scene is now fully explained. He learned through you.”
“Sutherton learned nothing from me; indeed I hardly know him.”
“Now I hear the flapping of porcine wings,” he replied dryly.
She shrugged. “Believe what you will, I know I’m telling the truth.”
“You and the truth don’t even share a common language,” he answered.
Her eyes flickered. “All I’m concerned about now is that it is definitely over between you and Henrietta.”
“Of what possible interest could that be to you?”
“Simply that it means there is hope for me.”
He was startled. “You?”
“Charlotte is not the only one with whom I wish to make my peace, sir, and your presence here is an opportunity I do not intend to squander,” she said softly, stepping closer and putting a tender hand to his cheek.
Jane looked daggers at her, for this wasn’t what was wanted at all. Marcus and Amabel? Oh, dear me, no!
Amabel smiled, and her rose perfume filled the air as she drew a seductive fingertip across Marcus’ lips.”Do you remember what pleasure we once shared?”
Jane’s dismay intensified. They’d been lovers in the past? This became worse by the moment!
“How well you play the temptress, Amabel,” Marcus said softly.
“Well enough to succeed with you again?” she inquired, reaching up suddenly to link her arms around his neck. She molded her body to his and smiled into his eyes. “Oh, sir, how very impressive a figure you have, but then I knew that already, did I not?”
“I don’t deny our past encounters, but the crucial word is ‘past’. I cannot gainsay that you are a very beautiful woman, Amabel, but beauty should be more than skin deep, and with you it is most certainly on the surface only. You showed yourself to be spiteful, grasping, callous, and hard. Shall I go on?”
She flushed a little. “Such compliments. Will you also accuse me of lacking passion?”
“If I did, I’d be lying.”
“Yes, you would.” She searched his face and then smiled. “You haven’t ceased to desire me, Marcus, I can see it in your eyes. Would you be surprised that it is our future encounters that interest me now?” she whispered, putting her lips to his.
For a long moment he resisted, but then his arms moved around her and as he returned the kiss, Jane’s chagrin was complete. How could she and Kit hope to pit an innocent like Henrietta against such a creature? The dejected wraith acidly surmised that Amabel Renchester was an experienced Jezebel who had probably graced more beds than Rowley had desired sugared almonds!
Amabel moved familiarly against Marcus, and he could not help his body’s response. She drew away enough to slide a hand over the front of his silk trousers. “Oh, yes,” she breathed huskily, “I play the temptress well enough to succeed with you. I will come to you tonight, and you will not turn me away.”
Then she
“You misjudge me, Marcus.”
Jane’s ears sharpened. Marcus? They were on first-name terms?
Marcus gave a short laugh. “Misjudge you? I think not, Amabel, for how is it possible to misjudge a widow who flaunted bright colors almost the day after her husband’s funeral?”
“Would you have me wear black for the passing of a traitor?”
“If traitor he was.”
“It was proven,” she declared.
“So it’s said.”
Amabel raised her chin. “And what brings you here to Mulborough, sirrah? The society of your dear friends. Lord and Lady Mulborough? Or is it perhaps because of Henrietta Courtenay?”
“Why should my actions have anything to do with her?”
“Because you had a liaison with her, and maybe hope it will resume.”
He became very still. “How did you know that?”
“She told me in London just after it happened.”
Jane and Kit exchanged glances, for Henrietta insisted to Charlotte that she had never mentioned it to anyone.
Marcus studied Amabel in the lantern light. “Well, Sutherton’s timely arrival on the scene is now fully explained. He learned through you.”
“Sutherton learned nothing from me; indeed I hardly know him.”
“Now I hear the flapping of porcine wings,” he replied dryly.
She shrugged. “Believe what you will, I know I’m telling the truth.”
“You and the truth don’t even share a common language,” he answered.
Her eyes flickered. “All I’m concerned about now is that it is definitely over between you and Henrietta.”
“Of what possible interest could that be to you?”
“Simply that it means there is hope for me.”
He was startled. “You?”
“Charlotte is not the only one with whom I wish to make my peace, sir, and your presence here is an opportunity I do not intend to squander,” she said softly, stepping closer and putting a tender hand to his cheek.
Jane looked daggers at her, for this wasn’t what was wanted at all. Marcus and Amabel? Oh, dear me, no!
Amabel smiled, and her rose perfume filled the air as she drew a seductive fingertip across Marcus’ lips.”Do you remember what pleasure we once shared?”
Jane’s dismay intensified. They’d been lovers in the past? This became worse by the moment!
“How well you play the temptress, Amabel,” Marcus said softly.
“Well enough to succeed with you again?” she inquired, reaching up suddenly to link her arms around his neck. She molded her body to his and smiled into his eyes. “Oh, sir, how very impressive a figure you have, but then I knew that already, did I not?”
“I don’t deny our past encounters, but the crucial word is ‘past’. I cannot gainsay that you are a very beautiful woman, Amabel, but beauty should be more than skin deep, and with you it is most certainly on the surface only. You showed yourself to be spiteful, grasping, callous, and hard. Shall I go on?”
She flushed a little. “Such compliments. Will you also accuse me of lacking passion?”
“If I did, I’d be lying.”
“Yes, you would.” She searched his face and then smiled. “You haven’t ceased to desire me, Marcus, I can see it in your eyes. Would you be surprised that it is our future encounters that interest me now?” she whispered, putting her lips to his.
For a long moment he resisted, but then his arms moved around her and as he returned the kiss, Jane’s chagrin was complete. How could she and Kit hope to pit an innocent like Henrietta against such a creature? The dejected wraith acidly surmised that Amabel Renchester was an experienced Jezebel who had probably graced more beds than Rowley had desired sugared almonds!
Amabel moved familiarly against Marcus, and he could not help his body’s response. She drew away enough to slide a hand over the front of his silk trousers. “Oh, yes,” she breathed huskily, “I play the temptress well enough to succeed with you. I will come to you tonight, and you will not turn me away.”
Then she
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