Page 16 of The Earl's Heiress
“I was trying to find out, Your Grace. I believe the lad is a thief.”
He was a duke. Of all the people Arabella could rile up, she chose one of the most powerful aristocrats. Good Lord.
She struggled to stop her voice from trembling. “I have not stolen anything. I’m no thief.”
“We shall see about that. The sheriff will be –.”
Lord Stanford stepped forward. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I have guests at Stanford Hall, and apparently, the lad followed me here. He knew not to ask if he could attend because it was not appropriate for him to be here.” Lord Stanford glared at her, and Arabella quickly dropped her eyes. “I will see the lad home.”
“And give him a stern lecture,” the duke said.
“Absolutely. There will be no repeat of this.”
Arabella heard the underlying warning in his tone. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your festivities, Your Grace.” Was all she could manage through her embarrassment.
The duke seemed satisfied with Lord Stanford's explanation, and they made their way back to the front of the house.
“Wait here,” Lord Stanford said as he went to get the carriage.
Arabella released the breath she had been holding. Lord Stanford had rescued her once more.
Temple had recognized her immediately.Her lips were unmistakable. She could only have fooled someone who had not studied them the way he had. Arabella was frightened that she got caught and rightly so. When her eyes met his, she knew that he saw through her disguise. She had assumed a serene expression as they walked around the house. Here she was, the woman he was to marry, dressed like a man, following him, and skulking around in the night. But why? Temple was a little bemused. Well, more than a little. He couldn’t understand why she would risk riding at night when she had barely gotten over her accident. He pondered for a while but decided he would let her explain it.
He gave instructions to the coachman, who stopped the carriage beside Miss Arabella. Temple almost alighted to assist her, but he stopped himself in time. He didn’t know who was watching, and he didn’t wish to draw any attention to them. Theladcould certainly manage to get into the carriage without his assistance. He opened the door, and Miss Arabella boarded, sitting across from him. She met his gaze defiantly, her head held high. Silence descended, yet neither made an effort to speak. Temple wouldn’t say that he was a man who was blessed with patience, but he would employ some now. They were alone, and he could gaze at her at his leisure. She didn’t even look embarrassed.
Finally, she spoke. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I was doing there?”
He supposed she was waiting for the lecture that wouldn’t be forthcoming. He flashed her a look of reproach. “Shouldn’t you explain without being asked?”
He watched the change in her expression. She could barely mask her annoyance as she regarded him. She removed her jacket and leaned back against the squabs. She was peculiar, this one, an unexpected, fascinating quality that was by no means commonplace. He wondered if she had a penchant for male attire or if she only wore it when it suited her purpose.
“I suppose I ought to thank you for rescuing me … again.” Her head lowered. Was that a contrite bow?
“You are the only woman I know that would act this way when she found herself in an undignified situation.” He spoke with such authority but immediately regretted the high-handedness of his tone when he saw her bristle.
“I’m grateful the duke did not need to call the sheriff. You extricated me from a mortifying state of affairs. I’m truly grateful.”
The absurdity of the situation had not escaped him. “You are yet to tell me what you were doing there.”
Like a peacock, she spread her feathers. “I was merely curious, and I decided to satisfy my curiosity. I will not be limited to bearing your children and providing you with entertainment.”
“And have you assuaged your curiosity?” Temple decided to disregard her last comment.
“Well, now that you have asked, I’ve never seen burlesque before. I didn’t realize the women wore so little clothing. At first, I thought they were naked, but then I grasped …”
Arabella was rambling on, yet he didn’t hear the words. A wicked impulse came over Temple when he heard the word naked. He wondered what she would look like without her layers of clothing. He was conscious that beneath the shirt, it wouldjust be her skin, and he recalled the subtle feel of her cheek when he brushed her tears away.
She had stopped speaking, her lips slightly parted. Arabella shifted in her seat, and she appeared flustered. Her cheeks burned red, and he could not deny himself the pleasure of seeing her blush. The heat of the carriage was suddenly uncomfortable, and he removed his jacket; all the while, his eyes never left hers. Her tongue darted out and licked her lips; then she smiled hesitantly.
Arabella rushed to fill the silence. “The dance was more sexually suggestive than I imagined. All the women had ample bosoms and …”
Temple left his seat and sat beside Arabella, their legs and arms touching. He was certain he could feel the heat of her skin through the thin layers.
“How did the dance make you feel?”
“My heart was beating fast.”
“And?”
