delicious little shiver traveled up Lilith’s spine to quiver along her limbs, unwelcome but not entirely unexpected.
She’d felt precisely the same thrill, a heady mix of anticipation, danger and desire, the moment he’d joined her on the balcony the night before. The sensation had expanded and multiplied to an almost desperate yearning when she’d allowed herself to stand near enough to witness the flare of lust in his eyes and hear the low hiss of his indrawn breath.
It was one thing to acknowledge her desire for the big brute of a man, it was quite another to know he was similarly afflicted.
And it was a third thing altogether to act upon that knowledge knowing full well the consequences would be disastrous for them both.
Malleville stepped away from the door, disappearing from view, and Lilith drew in a ragged breath before turning for her borrowed bedchamber.
She hadn’t the time nor the inclination to allow the man to distract her from her purpose. A purpose she was only just realizing was entirely at odds with that of the Earl of Dunaway. The lying, conniving reprobate.
Dunaway hadn’t offered her up as an alternate bride, nor had he brought her along to educate his daughter about the goings on in the marriage bed, or even to keep him company until the wedding. He’d cajoled her into accompanying him solely to tempt the baron to forfeit both his virgin bride and the thirty thousand pounds that came with her.
And so she would, but not in the manner the earl envisioned.
She had only to make it to the village before the mail coach came through, and wreak a bit of havoc while she was there.
* * * *
Except when Lilith arrived in the village of Breckenridge, she learned they hadn’t anything so civilized as a mail coach coming through daily, nor even weekly. And no wonder, the village was nothing more than a dozen structures scattered along both banks of a narrow river winding between steep, craggy hills covered in grass and some sort of purple flowers.
She also learned she’d unwittingly taken up two passengers, stowaways from Breckenridge House who’d apparently climbed onto the boot as the carriage trundled down the twisting, rutted lane.
The two boys hopped down, giggling and prancing about the inn yard, just as Reggie assisted Lilith from the carriage.
“We were up there all along,” the taller, and presumably older, boy crowed, slapping his brother on the back. “And the lady didn’t even know it.”
“All along,” the other boy agreed, his freckled cheeks flushed.
“I thought for sure the groom would see us before we left Uncle Jasper’s land.”
“Before we left Uncle’s land.”
“Wait’ll Meg learns what we done. She’ll be right sore she missed it.”
“Right sore.”
There was more jumping and back pounding and even a few jabs of shoulders before the boys settled down enough to turn and face Lilith who only watched their antics silently.
Seconds ticked by while Lilith studied the grimy little smiling faces, threadbare shirts and patched-knee breeches. Two pairs of bright eyes dimmed and identical toothy grins fell away under the weight of her quiet regard, and she wondered if they expected her to offer congratulation or some sort of reprimand for their antics.
Lilith offered neither. “The two of you act as if you’re the first boys ever to hitch a ride on the back of my carriage.”
“We aren’t?” the taller boy asked in some surprise.
“I can’t travel more than a mile through the London streets without some chimneysweep or mudlark climbing onto the boot or hanging off the side of my carriage.” It was something of an exaggeration, but only just barely.
“What’s a mudlark?” he asked.
“Mudlark,” the smaller, freckle-faced boy repeated.
“Boys who scavenge about in the mud along the banks of the Thames,” Lilith replied. “I suppose some of those pitiful creatures might even be girls. It’s impossible to determine, what will all the
She’d felt precisely the same thrill, a heady mix of anticipation, danger and desire, the moment he’d joined her on the balcony the night before. The sensation had expanded and multiplied to an almost desperate yearning when she’d allowed herself to stand near enough to witness the flare of lust in his eyes and hear the low hiss of his indrawn breath.
It was one thing to acknowledge her desire for the big brute of a man, it was quite another to know he was similarly afflicted.
And it was a third thing altogether to act upon that knowledge knowing full well the consequences would be disastrous for them both.
Malleville stepped away from the door, disappearing from view, and Lilith drew in a ragged breath before turning for her borrowed bedchamber.
She hadn’t the time nor the inclination to allow the man to distract her from her purpose. A purpose she was only just realizing was entirely at odds with that of the Earl of Dunaway. The lying, conniving reprobate.
Dunaway hadn’t offered her up as an alternate bride, nor had he brought her along to educate his daughter about the goings on in the marriage bed, or even to keep him company until the wedding. He’d cajoled her into accompanying him solely to tempt the baron to forfeit both his virgin bride and the thirty thousand pounds that came with her.
And so she would, but not in the manner the earl envisioned.
She had only to make it to the village before the mail coach came through, and wreak a bit of havoc while she was there.
* * * *
Except when Lilith arrived in the village of Breckenridge, she learned they hadn’t anything so civilized as a mail coach coming through daily, nor even weekly. And no wonder, the village was nothing more than a dozen structures scattered along both banks of a narrow river winding between steep, craggy hills covered in grass and some sort of purple flowers.
She also learned she’d unwittingly taken up two passengers, stowaways from Breckenridge House who’d apparently climbed onto the boot as the carriage trundled down the twisting, rutted lane.
The two boys hopped down, giggling and prancing about the inn yard, just as Reggie assisted Lilith from the carriage.
“We were up there all along,” the taller, and presumably older, boy crowed, slapping his brother on the back. “And the lady didn’t even know it.”
“All along,” the other boy agreed, his freckled cheeks flushed.
“I thought for sure the groom would see us before we left Uncle Jasper’s land.”
“Before we left Uncle’s land.”
“Wait’ll Meg learns what we done. She’ll be right sore she missed it.”
“Right sore.”
There was more jumping and back pounding and even a few jabs of shoulders before the boys settled down enough to turn and face Lilith who only watched their antics silently.
Seconds ticked by while Lilith studied the grimy little smiling faces, threadbare shirts and patched-knee breeches. Two pairs of bright eyes dimmed and identical toothy grins fell away under the weight of her quiet regard, and she wondered if they expected her to offer congratulation or some sort of reprimand for their antics.
Lilith offered neither. “The two of you act as if you’re the first boys ever to hitch a ride on the back of my carriage.”
“We aren’t?” the taller boy asked in some surprise.
“I can’t travel more than a mile through the London streets without some chimneysweep or mudlark climbing onto the boot or hanging off the side of my carriage.” It was something of an exaggeration, but only just barely.
“What’s a mudlark?” he asked.
“Mudlark,” the smaller, freckle-faced boy repeated.
“Boys who scavenge about in the mud along the banks of the Thames,” Lilith replied. “I suppose some of those pitiful creatures might even be girls. It’s impossible to determine, what will all the
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