He took in a deep breath. “Please, Isabella. I speak in earnest for your welfare.”
She smiled. “You’ve an interest in my welfare, do you?”
“Does your father know your whereabouts?”
This time she frowned. “Don’t be a fool. I am staying with my cousin in town. She introduced me to Devon.”
He had never met this cousin but would not trust the keenness of anyone who recommended Lord Devon.
“You ought return to your father, Isabella.”
“Why?”
He could not tell if her defiance stemmed from her headstrong ways or from pure foolishness. If he could, he would take her back to her father in his own carriage.
“I know that serious look,” she laughed. “La, would you whisk me away, my knight in shining armor?”
A muscle along his jaw tightened. “Isabella—”
“I protest,” Lord Devon interrupted as he came upon them, having torn himself away from the group. “You have occupied Lady Isabella long enough, Rockwell. Have you lost the delightful Miss Sherwood?”
Recalling that he had assured Miss Herwood his return within the half hour, he suppressed the desire to force Devon away—or deck the man in his pretty face. He turned to Isabella.
“You know my concerns, madam. I am at your service.”
He bowed and took his leave. As he made his way back to the West Wing, he shook his head. How the devil was he going to convince Isabella? A part of him wanted to stay with her and keep his eye on Devon, but then he would be a poor host for Miss Herwood.
And he had unfinished business with Miss Herwood.
Frustration with Isabella and anger with Lord Devon had already stirred his blood, and as he neared Miss Herwood’s bedchamber, he was fit to burst. He knocked upon the door and did not wait for a reply. He found her sitting on the settee, but she rose to her feet upon his entrance. Closing the door behind him, he lost no time in doffing his gloves and coat. He unwound his cravat.
Surprised by the swiftness of his actions, Miss Herwood made no movement and only stared. His palm itched to spank that precious arse of hers, but what he intended required patience.
He reached for her, molding her body to his. His lips grazed her neck. He slid his tongue lightly along the side of it.
“You have been extremely disobedient, Miss Herwood.”
She gasped when he took a mouthful of her neck. “If it be meek and obedient women you favor, I wonder that you seek my company.”
At times he wondered as well. He had never doubted her independence and willfulness, which bordered on brash even, but these qualities only enhanced his interest in her.
“You are not in your gaming hell,” he said as he moved his lips over hers, “but upon my grounds. Therefore, you will adhere to my rules.”
“I do pity the woman who must suffer you for a husband,” she murmured against his mouth.
For some reason her statement irked him. He grasped her buttock and squeezed it hard. Her eyes flew open. Heat swirled about his groin. He spun her around and began unpinning her gown.
“If you’ve an interest in the East Wing, you must first prove your mettle,” he informed her as he yanked the bodice down her arms.
The skirts were as easily dispensed with. Standing in only her chemise, stays, and stockings, she shivered, though Bhadra, as he had instructed before leaving for dinner, had had a strong fire burning in the fireplace. He ran a knuckle between her shoulder blades and admired the contours of her upper back.
“How?” she inquired as he unlaced her stays.
“You shall see soon enough.”
The stays fell to the floor. Reaching around with both hands, he palmed each breast. The amount of wine she had consumed was sufficient to lower her inhibitions. She leaned back against him and arched herself further into his hands. He kneaded each mound through the chemise and felt her nipples harden. He pulled and pinched the rosy nubs, making her groan, as his own head swam with the possibilities. She had a strong, beautiful body. If she proved tolerant, there was much he could do to her.
He slid the chemise down her body. Slipping his hand between her thighs, he found her already wet with desire. He stroked her there until she whimpered and ground herself against him. Her arse pressed against his cock, which stretched toward her. How easy it would be to unbutton the flap of his pants and ram his cock into her derriere. To cool the temptation, he stepped away from her and went to one of the armoires to retrieve coils of rope and a cat-o-nine tails. Her lips parted slightly but she was no stranger to the items. She had enjoyed them greatly in the past.