party.” Maria linked her arm companionably through Fliss’s as the two women entered the breakfast room together. “But I perfectly understand the reason for it now.” She gave Fliss a conspiratorial smile.
Fliss’s mind went a complete blank for several long seconds until she realized that Maria Eckles obviously knew of the time Fliss had spent in Sin Montgomery’s company. All of it? Including the time Fliss had spent in his bedchamber the previous evening? As Fliss looked up into those shrewd blue eyes, she realized that not much escaped Maria Eckles’s notice.
“It is always nice to spend time in the country,” Fliss answered her noncommittally, already searching the room for any gentleman with a familiar head of blond hair.
Unfortunately there were several gentlemen seated or standing about the breakfast room who fitted that description. She did not know all the gentlemen, but she recognized the faces of Lord Adam Sterling, Mr. Archibald Greaves, and Lord Samuel Waverly as the three talked together near the window. There were also two other fair-haired gentlemen sitting at the table whom Fliss did not know.
She had not thought it would be as difficult as this to identify the gentleman from the evening in the Woodrows’ library.
Sin could not remember the last time he had felt as angry as he did now.
His groom was stricken down with severe abdominal pains.
Dante was similarly afflicted.
Sin had no idea when or if either of them would recover.
Now he had returned to the house to find Fliss comfortably ensconced in the breakfast room and surrounded by a veritable crowd of admiring gentlemen. Completely contrary to his instructions.
“I fear you have competition for Mrs. Randall’s…affections, my lord.”
Sin turned his narrowed gaze on his hostess. “You are mistaken, madam.”
“I do not think so.” A maliciously amused smile curved Lady Eckles’s painted lips as she gave a pointed glance across the room to where a crowd of gentlemen were gathered about the chaise near the window, Felicity Randall at its center.
“I was referring to the fact that it is not done to discuss a lady with a third party,” Sin bit out coldly.
“Especially when one is bedding that lady?” his hostess mocked.
Sin’s jaw tightened. “If you will excuse me.” He gave a stiff bow before striding across the room.
Fliss sensed Sin’s presence before she saw him, a sensation of being watched causing a frisson of awareness to travel the length of her spine. It caused her to break off her conversation with Archibald Greaves and turn to look in the direction from which that sensation originated.
She drew her breath in sharply as she saw Sin bearing down on them, green eyes ablaze with his displeasure.
“If you will excuse us, gentlemen.” Sin reached down to grasp her arm and pull her to her feet before marching back across the room, Fliss anchored to his side.
“You are making a spectacle of us both,” Fliss hissed.
“No, you were making a spectacle of yourself.” He did not so much as glance at her as he strode across the room and began to ascend the wide staircase leading to the floor above.
Fliss had never been manhandled this way before. Nor did she think she should find quite so much delicious pleasure in it, or in seeing the earl so incensed.
Except, to her shame, she did. Another shiver of anticipation now ran the length of her spine as she wondered how he would punish her for disobeying him.
For so long, she had been the dutiful daughter, the Honorable Miss Felicity Barnett. Then the loyal wife, Mrs. Stephen Randall. Now the respectable widow, Mrs. Felicity Randall. At all times, and as all of them, she had been completely above reproach.
Sin had shown her a different side of herself, both last night and again this morning. He saw her as something other than any of those roles of respectability.
That he was furious, she had no doubt. That his fury was directed at her was also in no doubt.
Fliss’s mind went a complete blank for several long seconds until she realized that Maria Eckles obviously knew of the time Fliss had spent in Sin Montgomery’s company. All of it? Including the time Fliss had spent in his bedchamber the previous evening? As Fliss looked up into those shrewd blue eyes, she realized that not much escaped Maria Eckles’s notice.
“It is always nice to spend time in the country,” Fliss answered her noncommittally, already searching the room for any gentleman with a familiar head of blond hair.
Unfortunately there were several gentlemen seated or standing about the breakfast room who fitted that description. She did not know all the gentlemen, but she recognized the faces of Lord Adam Sterling, Mr. Archibald Greaves, and Lord Samuel Waverly as the three talked together near the window. There were also two other fair-haired gentlemen sitting at the table whom Fliss did not know.
She had not thought it would be as difficult as this to identify the gentleman from the evening in the Woodrows’ library.
Sin could not remember the last time he had felt as angry as he did now.
His groom was stricken down with severe abdominal pains.
Dante was similarly afflicted.
Sin had no idea when or if either of them would recover.
Now he had returned to the house to find Fliss comfortably ensconced in the breakfast room and surrounded by a veritable crowd of admiring gentlemen. Completely contrary to his instructions.
“I fear you have competition for Mrs. Randall’s…affections, my lord.”
Sin turned his narrowed gaze on his hostess. “You are mistaken, madam.”
“I do not think so.” A maliciously amused smile curved Lady Eckles’s painted lips as she gave a pointed glance across the room to where a crowd of gentlemen were gathered about the chaise near the window, Felicity Randall at its center.
“I was referring to the fact that it is not done to discuss a lady with a third party,” Sin bit out coldly.
“Especially when one is bedding that lady?” his hostess mocked.
Sin’s jaw tightened. “If you will excuse me.” He gave a stiff bow before striding across the room.
Fliss sensed Sin’s presence before she saw him, a sensation of being watched causing a frisson of awareness to travel the length of her spine. It caused her to break off her conversation with Archibald Greaves and turn to look in the direction from which that sensation originated.
She drew her breath in sharply as she saw Sin bearing down on them, green eyes ablaze with his displeasure.
“If you will excuse us, gentlemen.” Sin reached down to grasp her arm and pull her to her feet before marching back across the room, Fliss anchored to his side.
“You are making a spectacle of us both,” Fliss hissed.
“No, you were making a spectacle of yourself.” He did not so much as glance at her as he strode across the room and began to ascend the wide staircase leading to the floor above.
Fliss had never been manhandled this way before. Nor did she think she should find quite so much delicious pleasure in it, or in seeing the earl so incensed.
Except, to her shame, she did. Another shiver of anticipation now ran the length of her spine as she wondered how he would punish her for disobeying him.
For so long, she had been the dutiful daughter, the Honorable Miss Felicity Barnett. Then the loyal wife, Mrs. Stephen Randall. Now the respectable widow, Mrs. Felicity Randall. At all times, and as all of them, she had been completely above reproach.
Sin had shown her a different side of herself, both last night and again this morning. He saw her as something other than any of those roles of respectability.
That he was furious, she had no doubt. That his fury was directed at her was also in no doubt.
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