He watched her as she poured the tea. Her movements were all grace and elegance. And when she served him a cup, her fingers brushed his own and a thrill rushed through his hand straight to his shaft. All he could think was damn the tea and damn the rules, he wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her like she had never been kissed before, and make her his own. His! That was how he felt when he looked at the Lady Bess—his.
Brimstone and fire, he was burning for this chit!
He wanted her, had been dreaming of her, and knew she was an impossible dream. Taking Lady Bess to bed—and that was all he could think about doing—taking her to bed, undressing her, making love to her in every conceivable way, would mean the end of life as he knew it. It would mean marriage. He dinna deflower women—that was not his style. And he dinna want to marry just because he was in rut for a woman. After all, it couldna be love—he’d guarded against that foolish notion for so long he was now convinced he was incapable of falling in love
He wasna ready to sacrifice all, not even for as bonny a lass as he had ever come across. And he couldna see himself as a faithful husband forever in attendance on a young and sweet-natured wife who would expect all sorts of things from him. He couldna see himself that way, and yet … he wanted her.
Bloody hell! This had been a mistake, keeping her at Searington longer than originally planned.
What he needed was a visit with Sally Sonhurst and a toss in bed to give himself relief …
However, the thought of climbing back into bed with Sally Sonhurst, or anyone other than the bubbling bonny lass who filled his mind, left him dissatisfied. He was at an impasse. Lady Bess stood out, called to him, moved provocatively before him, seducing without even knowing it. He couldna have her; he knew that taking her meant trouble of the worst kind. He wouldna take her and leave her hurt and broken. He couldna do that to her. And he just wasn’t ready to take on a faithful bride and promise the same.
“There is bound to be a performing bear!” announced Robby sharply, breaking into the earl’s thoughts. “I think we should think about getting started.”
He laughed to see Robby stuff another bun into his mouth as Bess stood up and agreed to this, adding, “And fortune tellers!”
He moved in closer to her and murmured, “Do you want to know the future?” His gaze found her full lips, and for a moment he thought he would lose control, company be damned, his logic be damned. He wanted to taste those lips!
“Hmm, the future. Yes, it might be fun to know the future, but then … maybe not.”
“Just like a woman.” He chuckled. “The answer should be either yes or no.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to know that something awful was about to happen unless we could change it,” Bess said.
“No one can tell the future,” Robby announced.
“I agree. ’Tis Gypsy games but all in good fun. Let’s have them put the horses to,” said Donna, also excited at the prospect of the adventure.
“No,” the earl said. “’Tis a lovely day—think I will drive in m’open phaeton.” He turned to Bess. “Would ye like that?”
“Oh yes, above all things,” she agreed with a small clap of her hands.
He laughed. “And if ye are a good girl, I might let ye take the reins.”
“And what about us?” Donna pouted.
“Ye may drive m’open carriage with m’matched bays,” the earl answered on a chuckle. It occurred to the earl that he thoroughly enjoyed being with this group of friends. He wagged a finger as an afterthought came to him. “Ah, but only if ye drive, Donna of Mabry. Doona let that ham-handed lad of yers anywhere near the reins.”
“Oh, but your bays are quite famous! Agreed,” Donna said on a hearty laugh.
“Ham-handed?” objected Robby. “Ham-handed, indeed! I can handle his bays—tell him, Donna.”
“No, darling. There are many things you can handle, but his lordship’s bays are not among them.” She tempered this by giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.
Bess was looking at herself and frowning. “Should I change into something more serviceable?”
The earl regarded her in her yellow muslin. It fit her figure very well, and he liked the scoop of the neckline that displayed the swells of her breasts to perfection. Her dark ringlets had a pretty matching yellow ribbon wound through the long black curls, and he was intrigued with the entire picture she presented. “No, doona change. Just wear a cloak or something warm for the drive.”
Her face brightened. “Oh, I have a lovely warm matching Spencer. I’ll go and fetch it.” She turned to Donna. “What about you?”
Donna smoothed over her rich dark brown velvet with ivory lace and shrugged. “Hmm, think I’ll just wear my cloak.” She started out of the room. “Come on then, let’s go fetch our reticules too.”
Bess turned to the earl, and he lost his breath as his gaze discovered her glittering green eyes. They were warm, they were full with feeling and excitement, and for a moment he got lost in them.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said softly.
“I will miss ye until ye return,” he said softly, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw Fleetwood frowning. He waited for the inevitable. He knew it was coming, and it did.