Page 48 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
Suzannah stretched in the bed,basking in the swath of sunshine that warmed her skin. She froze midstretch as she realized it was notherbed. She was at Kit’s house inhisbed.
Oh Lord...Had she truly agreed to marry him last night? She had... and he had touched her in the most intimate, exciting ways possible, giving her an exquisite pleasure she’d never imagined. She covered her face with her hands, mortified, and yet also strangely delighted.
A light rap on the door had her scrambling for the covers, but it wasn’t Kit who entered. It was the elderly butler, Mr. Palmer.
“Good morning, Miss Townsend. I dried and pressed your gown as well as your... er... underthings.” He blushed to the roots of his white hair as he set her garments on the foot of the bed.
“Oh, thank you so much, Mr. Palmer.” She was incredibly grateful for the old man’s thoughtfulness. “Do you know where Lord Kentwell is?”
“His lordship is having breakfast downstairs, should you wish to join him.”
“Thank you, Mr. Palmer.” She waited for the butler to leave before she retrieved her clothing and dressed. She was glad to discover that her boots had dried despite the leather having been soaked clear through the night before. She propped her foot on one of the two armchairs and began to lace up her boots. Her gaze roved around the room as she did, and she spied something sitting on the windowsill she hadn’t noticed the previous night.
Unable to deny her curiosity, she finished lacing up and went to the window to pick up the object. It was a beautifully carved elephant made entirely of ivory. The elephant’s features were so perfectly etched that she half expected it to lift its trunk and trumpet proudly. She placed the elephant back on the windowsill with care, wondering where Kit had found it. It was exquisite. She glanced around the room once more, admitting to herself that she felt nervous about sharing breakfast with Kit and was looking for any kind of distraction. After what they’d done the night before, she was more than a little embarrassed. He’d pleasured her, and now she was supposed to sit there and drink tea with him in the light of day as if nothing had happened.
She smoothed her skirts in an effort to calm her racing heart and finally left the bedchamber and went down the stairs. She remembered the way to the dining room easily enough, but she paused at the sound of deep masculine voices on the other side of the closed door. Should she wait before entering? It was clear from the male voices that Kit was not alone. She didn’t know who was with him, but they were likely from Kit’s elite social circle. She was rarely around polite society like this and wasn’t certain what the proper thing to do was.
“Go on in, miss. You won’t disturb them,” Palmer said with a fatherly smile as he joined her at the door with a tray of letters and calling cards resting in one hand. He opened the door and nodded for her to enter ahead of him.
The discussion ceased immediately as six men practically leapt to their feet.
Suzannah’s breath caught at the sight of Kit in light tan trousers that hugged his muscular thighs. The burgundy waistcoat he wore lightened the intense dark brown of his eyes. He was gloriously masculine and yet almost painfully beautiful... and he was hers. There was an undeniable surge of feminine joy knowing that this man had begged to pleasure her last night. Yet remembering that encounter had her blushing wildly.
Kit came toward her and cupped her face in one palm, smiling down at her as if they were the only two people in the room. Lord, she loved that smile of his, the one that made him so relaxed, so sweet...
She was grateful for his height and physical presence as he turned to the other men while he stood beside her. She felt strangely safe when he was near her. The gentlemen in the room were all finely dressed in waistcoats and trousers that must have cost a small fortune. That meant they were as she suspected, high society. She gulped past a hard lump of panic.
“Good morning, Suzannah,” Kit said in a soft tone, calling her attention away from the other men for a moment. The distraction calmed her, and she drew in a breath. Then Kit spoke to the others. “Gentlemen, this is Suzannah Townsend. Suzannah, these are my friends.” He pointed to a man she recognized from last night. “You remember meeting Darius St. John last evening?”
“Yes, it’s lovely to see you again, Lord Tiverton.” She dipped into a curtsy, and he bowed to her.
“It is certainly lovely to see you again under much better circumstances.” Darius’s blue eyes twinkled. His hair, which had appeared as dark as a raven’s wing last night, now revealed hints of dark amber-colored strands. Seeing him and Kit in the same room together, they could have passed for brothers.
Kit gestured to the other gentlemen patiently awaiting their introductions. “As for these men”—he nodded at the man on the opposite side of Darius—“this is Lionel Thistlewaite, Viscount Basildon.” Lionel was also dark haired, and his hazel eyes shimmered with a keen intensity that made her feel like he could see straight through her.
“This is Felix Hawkins, the Marquess of Grey.”
Felix smiled at her. The only fair-haired man in the room, his light gray eyes sparkled with life. He was much like one of the dashing heroes in the novels she loved to read, and he looked as though he would pick up a fencing foil and leap into action at any moment.
“Last but not least, these are Warren Burville and Vincent Wyndam. Vincent you’ve met during our ride in the park,” Kit said with a glance to the remaining men. Warren was as tall as Kit and almost as broad in the shoulders. But his brown hair and jade-green eyes made him seem less frightening. Still, he exuded an air of danger and recklessness that would appeal to a great many women. He was what ladies in polite society would likely call a rogue or a scoundrel. Warren winked at her, and her face flushed.
She cleared her throat and looked toward Mr. Wyndam, taking in his chocolate-brown hair and eyes to match.
She gasped as she suddenly remembered what had seemed so familiar about him. “I’ve seen you... at the theater. You’ve been to a number of performances.”
Vincent smiled roguishly at her. “Ah... yes, that you have. I was... keeping an eye on you and, well, the actresses, of course.”
“Someone doesn’t seem to understand the nature of stealth,” Lionel murmured to Vincent.
Vincent shot him a baleful glance. “I wasn’t trying to be stealthy.”
“I think he was suggesting you shouldpracticea bit more,” Warren added. The room dissolved into an amusing squabble that seemed better suited to boys in the schoolyard than a nobleman’s dining room.
From what she could glean of the conversation, these men were Kit’s friends, and they had been keeping an eye on not only her but also Mr. Walsh and Mr. Balfour. She could only assume that it had something to do with Kit’s conviction seven years ago. But in all the ruckus, they seemed to have forgotten that she was even there.
Suzannah glanced around the room, and Palmer caught her eye as he let out an aggrieved sigh, which made her bite her lip to hide a smile. The butler set the tray of letters down on the table with a loud rattle. The men stopped talking all at once. Palmer cleared his throat and inclined his head to Suzannah.
Kit took his cue from his butler and departed from the table and came over to her, offering his arm. “I believe the lady requires food to break her fast,” he said to his friends, then looked down at her. “I’m so sorry, Suzannah. We’ve been terribly rude.” Kit’s eyes twinkled. She was so taken aback by the fact that he seemed delighted with how this meeting with his friends was proceeding that she took his arm when he offered it without question. He walked her to an empty seat close to Darius and pulled out a chair for her.
