tooth did explain one anomaly, though. That plump and curvy figure. Hips! The girl actually had hips! Lush and oh-so-round…
“Bloody hell,” he growled and quickly vacated the terrace. The cold was seeping into his brain, making him imagine all sorts of absurdities. Still, he doubted a warm fire would put his senses to right. He had a quandary on his hands.
Pleasant dreams? Not tonight. Not for a great many nights. Not until he debunked the mystery of the curious Miss Ashby.
Chapter 6
“G ood heavens, she married a duke!”
“Who married a duke?”
Startled, Henrietta folded the letter in her hands. She looked up to find Sebastian poised in the door frame, shoulder slumped against the ornate wood paneling. Thick arms folded over his strapping chest, legs crossed at the ankles, he perused her, a drowsy glint in his otherwise clear blue eyes.
Oh, had the handsome viscount not slumbered very soundly? Had a certain temptress, mayhap, haunted his dreams?
“Good morning, my lord.” Biting back her grin, Henrietta stood and reached for the still steaming teapot. “Tea?”
Sebastian sauntered into the breakfast room. My, he looked splendid. All decked out in regal day wear. Tight and clinging day wear. The muscled form beneath the layers of clothing was hard to miss. Ever since her lessons with Madam Jacqueline, Henriettahad come to admire the masculine figure. And Sebastian’s was a specimen worthy of more intimate study.
“Thank you, Miss Ashby,” he said, and took a chair opposite her. Black curls a bit disheveled, voice a smoky drawl, he was too sinfully handsome for words.
Henrietta set the teacup on the table in front of him and returned to her seat. Needing a distraction, she unfurled the letter once more, and said, “I’ve just received a missive from my dearest chum, Mirabelle.”
“Is she the one from the masquerade ball?”
“The very one.”
He whistled. “She married a duke, did she?”
“The Duke of Wembury! Oh, but I didn’t get to go to the wedding. Drat!”
At least she didn’t have to keep her friendship with Mirabelle a secret anymore. That was one good thing. Mama would be positively agog to learn that her daughter was now friends with a duchess!
Sebastian slowly sipped his tea, eyes intent upon her. “Why didn’t you go to the wedding?”
Henrietta shivered under his smoldering gaze and looked back at the note. “It was a simple ceremony, Mirabelle writes. Only family attended. But I’ve been invited to the castle for a visit.”
“Will you go?”
“Of course I will.”
But there was still Ravenswood to seduce, shethought. The viscount was staying at the house until Twelfth Night. If she went to visit the duchess, she was going to lose a few days with the viscount…
“I shall postpone the trip until the spring,” she said. “I shall write to the duchess today to inform her.”
“Why wait so long?”
Keeping her voice light and airy, she said, “Oh, I have a few other matters to attend to here at the house.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I didn’t take Wembury for the leg-shackling sort.”
Henrietta’s eyes widened. “You know the duke?”
“Of him. He was dubbed the ‘Duke of Rogues’ long ago. At one time, he even belonged to my club. Before I was a member, though.”
“What club?”
A dark shadow passed over Sebastian’s eyes. “A gentlemen’s club,” was all he said on the matter. He took another sip of tea before he resumed. “About two and a half years ago, though, after the death of his brother, Wembury disappeared from the world. And now he’s back? And riveted at that? Shocking.”
“Well, it seems the duke’s reformed his ways.”
“A scoundrel can never reform his ways, Miss Ashby.”
She quirked a brow. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes.” He reached for a pastry on the table. “It’s impossible to rid oneself of wicked intentions. A thief will always be a thief. His fingers will always itch and burn to pinch one thing or another.
“Bloody hell,” he growled and quickly vacated the terrace. The cold was seeping into his brain, making him imagine all sorts of absurdities. Still, he doubted a warm fire would put his senses to right. He had a quandary on his hands.
Pleasant dreams? Not tonight. Not for a great many nights. Not until he debunked the mystery of the curious Miss Ashby.
Chapter 6
“G ood heavens, she married a duke!”
“Who married a duke?”
Startled, Henrietta folded the letter in her hands. She looked up to find Sebastian poised in the door frame, shoulder slumped against the ornate wood paneling. Thick arms folded over his strapping chest, legs crossed at the ankles, he perused her, a drowsy glint in his otherwise clear blue eyes.
Oh, had the handsome viscount not slumbered very soundly? Had a certain temptress, mayhap, haunted his dreams?
“Good morning, my lord.” Biting back her grin, Henrietta stood and reached for the still steaming teapot. “Tea?”
Sebastian sauntered into the breakfast room. My, he looked splendid. All decked out in regal day wear. Tight and clinging day wear. The muscled form beneath the layers of clothing was hard to miss. Ever since her lessons with Madam Jacqueline, Henriettahad come to admire the masculine figure. And Sebastian’s was a specimen worthy of more intimate study.
“Thank you, Miss Ashby,” he said, and took a chair opposite her. Black curls a bit disheveled, voice a smoky drawl, he was too sinfully handsome for words.
Henrietta set the teacup on the table in front of him and returned to her seat. Needing a distraction, she unfurled the letter once more, and said, “I’ve just received a missive from my dearest chum, Mirabelle.”
“Is she the one from the masquerade ball?”
“The very one.”
He whistled. “She married a duke, did she?”
“The Duke of Wembury! Oh, but I didn’t get to go to the wedding. Drat!”
At least she didn’t have to keep her friendship with Mirabelle a secret anymore. That was one good thing. Mama would be positively agog to learn that her daughter was now friends with a duchess!
Sebastian slowly sipped his tea, eyes intent upon her. “Why didn’t you go to the wedding?”
Henrietta shivered under his smoldering gaze and looked back at the note. “It was a simple ceremony, Mirabelle writes. Only family attended. But I’ve been invited to the castle for a visit.”
“Will you go?”
“Of course I will.”
But there was still Ravenswood to seduce, shethought. The viscount was staying at the house until Twelfth Night. If she went to visit the duchess, she was going to lose a few days with the viscount…
“I shall postpone the trip until the spring,” she said. “I shall write to the duchess today to inform her.”
“Why wait so long?”
Keeping her voice light and airy, she said, “Oh, I have a few other matters to attend to here at the house.”
Sebastian shrugged. “I didn’t take Wembury for the leg-shackling sort.”
Henrietta’s eyes widened. “You know the duke?”
“Of him. He was dubbed the ‘Duke of Rogues’ long ago. At one time, he even belonged to my club. Before I was a member, though.”
“What club?”
A dark shadow passed over Sebastian’s eyes. “A gentlemen’s club,” was all he said on the matter. He took another sip of tea before he resumed. “About two and a half years ago, though, after the death of his brother, Wembury disappeared from the world. And now he’s back? And riveted at that? Shocking.”
“Well, it seems the duke’s reformed his ways.”
“A scoundrel can never reform his ways, Miss Ashby.”
She quirked a brow. “Is that so?”
“Oh yes.” He reached for a pastry on the table. “It’s impossible to rid oneself of wicked intentions. A thief will always be a thief. His fingers will always itch and burn to pinch one thing or another.
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