Page 51 of His Wicked Secret
“Yes, thank you.” Audrey remained in bed, taking in the lingering scent of Jonathan on her bed.
What a wonderful morning it was. She only hoped the rest of the day would be half as pleasant. But she couldn’t shake the fear that Jonathan would return to his old ways and put a fresh distance between them.
15
Jonathan scraped the razor over his chin, then swished the blade in the bowl of hot water. Then he put the razor to his skin again, watching himself carefully in the mirror. His gaze darted to his bed in the mirror. It was immaculate since he hadn’t slept there last night, but he could still picture Audrey lying there, half-naked, tempting him with that seductive look to stay in bed all day with her.
He smiled at the thought of her wanting to watch him shave. This morning had been a true victory in his war to win her heart. She wouldn’t surrender to just any man.
When she had taken him into her mouth so unexpectedly, he half believed he had perished in that bed and a choir of angels were singing him to heaven. If she was inexperienced now, he was afraid to imagine how deadly she would be with a bit of practice.
Jonathan set the razor down on the cloth by the basin and eyed the clothes his valet had laid out on the bed. A burgundy waistcoat shot through with gold thread and a pair of buckskin trousers and black boots. A fine choice. Audrey would approve of this. It was not dandy in any way, but Audrey liked his tasteful yet unassuming wardrobe.
By the time he left his chambers, he knew most of the house would be finished with breakfast and off enjoying other activities. He expected the room to be empty, but he found James and Charles at the table, also enjoying a late start to the day. Four sideboards contained dishes of food for the extra guests. He prepared a plate of food and joined them, sitting beside Charles across from James.
Jonathan enjoyed having an opportunity to admire the dining room of Lucien’s ancestral home while he ate. It was perhaps a bit severe for his taste, in its Roman style with marmoreal pilasters, but it was lovely nonetheless. Charles caught him studying the elaborate gilded wainscoting.
“Stunning, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I really hadn’t had time to appreciate the lifestyle of a gentleman until now. There’s been so much to see since Godric gave me part of the Essex estate to manage. Then I had to set up a townhouse in London, of course. I feel it’s all been a bit of a blur, and this is the first time I’m able to stop and breathe.”
“All those preparations are for your sprite, eh?”
Jonathan glanced down at his plate, but he couldn’t resist smiling.
“Making progress?” Charles clapped in approval before he reached for aMorning Postpaper that had been abandoned by one of the other guests.
Jonathan finished off his toast and eggs. “I believe so.”
“Who’s the sprite, if you don’t mind me asking?” James asked.
Charles shared a look with Jonathan before Jonathan chose to answer. “Miss Sheridan. I’m doing my best to court her, but the lady does not make it easy.”
“Miss Sheridan? I daresay you must have your hands full with her. I can sympathize. Miss Beaumont is simply wonderful, but she will not let me court her, at least not past this week. I cannot fathom why. That lady is full of secrets.” James’s sigh made Charles burst out laughing.
“Oh, look at the pair of you. Moping about because the ladies you desire aren’t easily seduced. Life must be so hard! Why don’t we go fishing and allow the ladies have a bit of time alone? Perhaps then they will have to admit they missed your pining presence.”
James smiled wryly. “He may be right. What you say, St. Laurent?”
Jonathan couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone fishing, and it did sound rather pleasant.
“All right.”
“Then let’s make it sporting, shall we?” Charles said with a smile. “Ten pounds to the man who brings the largest fish in during the first hour?”
They finished their meal and left the dining room. Charles had a footman run off to have the groundskeeper ready a boat and prepare fishing poles and bait.
Without warning, Charles pulled Jonathan and James into an empty drawing room.
“Oh Lord.”
“What is it?” asked Jonathan. Charles nodded his head to the crack he’d left in the doorway. A group of young men passed by their hidden location. Jonathan recognized the men, many of whom were fairly dandified.
“Bloody lapdogs,” Charles snapped.
Jonathan snorted. He and Godric had never cared for those sort of men either. They were the type of men hostesses would invite whom Godric referred to asnon-sportinggentlemen. They kept the ladies amused during house parties, but they were a bore to men like him.
“That one there.” Charles pointed out a handsome young man to Jonathan. Oliver Bedford, if he wasn’t mistaken. “I had to suffer through him and Miss Sharpe warbling through some awful duet this morning before breakfast. I told Horatia that the sounds they made were so dreadful it almost put me off my breakfast.”
