Page 40 of A Tempest of Desire
She arched a brow. “You think he doesn’t know who I am? And what reputation? It’s not sterling, I’m not a lady with any hope of dragging a lord to the altar.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, cupped her chin, grateful she didn’t jerk away. “I handled the entire matter poorly and for that I apologize. I’m notashamed of being seen with you—even if I’ve no right to bewithyou. There are better ways to have conveyed that to my brother. And I’m a bit put out with him for disturbing what was a lovely beginning to the morning. Still, I need to make sure he understands that no one is to learn that you were here.” Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her brow. “I won’t be long.”
As he descended the stairs, he dragged his shirt over his head. The stone was cold. He should have taken the time to pull on his boots, but he wanted Stuart gone as quickly as possible. He found his brother in the front chamber staring at the multicolored cloth spread out over the floor, his hands on his hips. Some instinct must have alerted him to Langdon’s silent arrival because he abruptly turned, a bit of censure marring his otherwise handsome face. “Youdoknow who she is.”
“Of course I do.”
“How did Marlowe end up here? Did you steal her from Hollingsworth? Does he know? When you return to London, are you going to be facing a pistol at dawn?”
“No pistol at dawn because you’re not to tell anyone she was here.”
“But you’re cuckolding him.”
“I believe that term applies only to a husband.” He released a deep sigh. “But no, it’s not what you think. The storm delivered her to my shore. I have only the one bed. Nothing untoward happened within it.” Nothingveryuntoward at least.
With a curt laugh, Stuart shook his head. “Youhave London’s most beautiful and infamous courtesan in your bed, and youdon’tfuck her?”
Langdon saw so much red that he thought he might drown in it. He was also very close to punching his brother. “Don’t use that word when speaking about her.”
“Which one? Beautiful? Courtes—”
“Fuck. And no, I did not.”
His brother stared at him. “Christ, I believe you. Don’t think I could have said the same.”
“You’re not to touch her.”
“I wasn’t planning to. After all, we’ve not been formerly introduced.” He didn’t attempt to hide his sarcasm, and Langdon realized he’d insulted his brother as well as Marlowe by not introducing them, but then he’d have never introduced any woman found in his bed. It simply wasn’t done.
Turning slightly, Stuart waved his arm in the general direction of the cloth. “What is all this?”
“An envelope.”
“Have a lengthy letter to post, have you?”
His brother tried so hard to be humorous when all he was succeeding at was being irritating. “Apparently that’s the official name of that portion of a hot-air balloon. It’s how Marlowe ended up on my shore. She flew the bloody thing. Unfortunately, it crashed in the sea. Only that was salvageable.”
His eyes widened in awe. “She’s an aeronaut?”
“Yes.”
“She might get more respect if people knew that.”
His hands closing into fists, he took a menacing step forward. “Who doesn’t respect her?”
The irony of the question struck him once he heard the words spoken aloud. He’d once viewed her as a ruined woman and given her less respect than she deserved.
Stuart opened his mouth to speak, closed it. Grinned broadly. “Hello, Marlowe. Ollie was just telling me you’re an aeronaut. Well done.”
Langdon swung around to see her standing in the doorway, wearing his shirt and the blanket skirt, her hair plaited. Christ, how much had she heard? He prayed nothing.
“In London, I’ve never heard anyone refer to him as Ollie.”
How often had she heard anyone refer to him at all?
“Oh, he hates it. That’s why I do it. Younger brothers are supposed to be a nuisance and I take my role in his life very seriously.”
Her smile was small, no doubt because of her injured lip, but it was obvious by the twinkling in her eyes that she was charmed. Stuart had that devil-may-care sense about him that gave the impression he was jolly good fun. Who was Langdon kidding? Stuart was always up for a good time. He had no responsibilities weighing him down. As the spare he was free to do as he pleased.
