Page 94 of The Marquess Wins a Wife
∞∞∞
“Thank you,” Luke said softly, as Lady Glendale stormed off toward the terrace door, leaving them once again alone in the clinging darkness, “for not believing the worst of me.”
In the small, thin sleeves of her gold evening gown, her shoulders moved in a nonchalant shrug. “It would have been very foolish to meet with her when you would have expected me along any moment,” she said easily.
Foolish—or unforgivably cruel. He wondered that it had not occurred to her, given that there had certainly been times he had been that toward her. He hadexpectedher disbelief, her anger—and yet she had chosen grace above suspicion, trust over doubt. “I’m thankful you came along when you did,” he said, with a swift sigh of relief.
“Oh, I came along sooner than that,” she said cheerfully, an impish grin sliding across her face, those dark eyes wide and glinting with merriment.
“What? But you—” Luke paused, his mouth dropping open as the realization came upon him at last. “Why, you shameless littlespy!” The words came out on the tail of an incredulous laugh, and it was an effort to turn his tone toward chiding rather than amused. “You know, those that eavesdrop in the shadows rarely hear nice things of themselves.”
“Idid.” That proud chin tilted up in satisfaction.
“You let her accost me!” he accused.
“Forgive me for my confidence that you could handle a single woman on your own,” she said, her voice bland and dry, oozing with sarcasm. “I’ll not make that mistake again.” Tipping her head to rest it against his shoulder, she released a low exhale rife with disappointment. “I suppose it’s just my luck—myoneopportunity for a clandestine assignation, and Lady Glendale had to ruin it.”
“Oh, no, she hasn’t. She’s caused enoughtrouble as it is. I’m not going to let her ruinthis.”
Lizzie blinked, plainly startled by the virulence of his voice. “We can’t stayhere,” she said. “I wouldn’t put it past her to go snitching to the hostess, who will not be well pleased to find us here.”
No doubt she was correct. “Then we won’t be found here,” he said, and seized her hand in his. “But I’ll be damned if I’m forced to renege on a promise through no fault of my own.” And most especially not one that promised to be a pleasure to fulfill. Her fingers slipped within the soft fabric of her evening gloves as he pulled her back toward the terrace door. “Shh,” he warned as he ushered her through it, closing the door softly behind him. “Let’s not attract undue attention.” This, with a small nod toward the door to the ladies’ retiring room further down the hall, from which emanated a steady thrum of overlapping voices.
But there were at least seven other doors lining the hall, and surely whatever lay behindoneof them had to be suitable for his purposes. Cautiously, he proceeded down the hall with Lizzie in tow, peeking within each room as they passed. A sitting room. Too small, too easy for anyone wandering by to peer inside.
“What are you looking for?” Lizzie whispered, her fingers wiggling in the grip of his.
“I’ll know it when I see it,” Luke said as he led her toward the next door. A music room—larger than the sitting room as the corridor progressed from the outward wing of the house toward the grander interior. But still, it was crowded with all sorts of instruments, rendering even the larger space of the room too tight. One wrong move could produce a terrible cacophony of sound which might threaten to bring the whole household down upon them.
A longer stretch of hallway separated the music room door from the next, and anticipation bubbled over in his veins. The door opened into a darkened room, the scant light from the hall spilling in over shelves of books, and fading into the darkness before it reached the more than halfway within.
A library.Perfect.
Chapter Thirty Five
Lizzie tripped through the darkness, guided by Luke’s hand on hers as he led her through the maze of furniture toward a secluded corner, well out of sight of the door. Her heart battered at the cage of her ribs, at once titillated and terrified. Excitement warred with nervousness as Luke paused at the far corner of the room and backed her up against a bookshelf. The scent of leather bindings washed up around her, and in the thin trickles of light that struggled through the windows to reach them, she could see the glint of Luke’s white teeth revealed in an almost predatory smile.
His arms caged her in, hands braced on either side of her head. “You’re in for it now,” he said, his voice low and warm, resonant with desire. “You’re going to be compromised in all sorts of places.” A shiver skittered along her skin as he bent his head, his warm breath feathering across her lips. “Balls. Dinner parties. The theatre.”
“The theatre!” she choked out on an anxious little laugh.
“Oh, yes.” His soft laugh vibrated against her neck as he pressed a hot kiss there. “And unless you wish to be very,veryscandalous, you’ll want to keep as quiet as possible. We’re not so very far from the ladies’ retiring room.”
But how was she meant to keep quiet in such circumstances? Every breath she drew sounded unnaturally loud in the overwhelming silence of the room, each muted sigh slicing through air as if it had been a shout. “Will they hear us?” She muffled a little squeak against his shoulder as he slipped one hand between her and the wall of books at her back, cupping the curve of her bottom through the thin fabric of her gown. Even her petticoats did little to dull the heat of his fingers.
“I suppose that depends.” The grip of his hand lifted her into the thrust of his hips, and her gasp sheared through the stillness. Cool air whisked around her calves, and belatedly she realized that he’d been busying himself with drawing up her skirts, freeing her legs from the confines of the fabric. “How loud do you intend to be?” There was a skirl of amusement lingering somewhere beneath the idly curious tone he had employed.
“I don’t—I couldn’t possibly answer that.” The spines of the books on the shelf behind her pressed against her back. Her fingers had woven themselves into his hair, arms braced upon his shoulders. She had craned her neck up, seeking his mouth—which he seemed to be deliberately keeping out of her reach. His hand cupped her thigh, sliding inexorably upward. When had he removed his gloves? Those warm fingers trespassed intimately, and it was impossible to bite back the pleading whimper that climbed up her throat as they stirred through short, crisp curls to find her where she wanted his touch most. “Are youtryingto get us caught?” she accused in a strangled whisper.
“Half the fun is knowing wecouldbe.” A sound of satisfaction rumbled in his chest when she arched to the stroke of his fingers between her thighs. “You know, it’s quite unfashionable to be caught inflagrante delictowith one’s wife. Do you know what would be said of me if anyone happened to walk in upon us like this, with your skirts rucked up to your waist?” His lips drifted along the curve of her cheek, the whispered words soaking into her skin with the heat of his mouth.
A lambent warmth bloomed within her as the feather-light strokes of his fingers deepened, coaxing forth an intimate dampness that seemed to thrill him. His chest pressed against hers, breath quickening into rapid pants. “Your legs around my hips. Me inside you,” he continued in a seductive, suggestive tone.
“You’re not inside me,” she said, although she’d no sooner gotten the words out than he’d put the lie to it, breaching her body with his longest finger, unerringly finding that place of unparalleled sensitivity. Her hands gripped fistfuls of his hair in reaction, and he caught the sound that she made with his mouth, muffling it beneath his lips.
“I’m going to be,” he murmured into her mouth, his tongue twining with hers. “Shh,” he said. “We’re not going to be discovered; I’ll keep you quiet. Put your legs around me now, Lizzie.” The low tenor of his voice soothed her frazzled nerves, and he helped her to brace herself, to lock her legs around his waist. “Yes,” he sighed as he settled into the cradle of her hips, sliding along her damp, needy flesh. “That’s perfect.”
Distantly, Lizzie heard the strains of music from the ballroom, a muted burst of laughter somewhere in the hall—but even those indistinct reminders of their location failed to compete with the lush reality of Luke’s mouth on hers, the steady grip of his hands holding her in place. There was only the seamless slip into the passion he had roused, erasing all thoughts of the danger of discovery, of the potential for embarrassment.
