The Marquess and the Maiden(11)

Though he could not see her directly without opening the storage room  door, he could hear her giving instructions, so she obviously had a  companion with her.

"As soon as we can get some of the other girls here, we will be able to make the most of the space," Harriet said.

Her companion mumbled something he was unable to hear, so much so that  he was unable to determine if it was a man or a woman. Harriet had  mentioned something about the other girls. Had he so misjudged her? Was  it possible she was involved in some nefarious sexual group? Was she  intending to move people into his property?

"Until then it is up to you and me to practice," Harriet said.

Practice?

They were quiet for a few moments, and then he heard Harriet speak again.

"Now then, you come for me." Which was quickly followed by a distinct  groan. A few more moments passed with an exchange of grunts and  shuffles. What in the hell was she doing out there?

He couldn't take it any longer. If she were with a man, he damned well  needed to know. She was going to be his wife, and he had the right to  know how the hell she was spending her time. He braced his cane on the  floor and gently opened the door.

Harriet stood over someone with a parasol aimed at their throat. She'd  stripped off her dress and wore only her pantaloons, chemise, and  corset. Her breathing was labored and her expression fierce. His mouth  went dry. Lust pounded through him.

"What the devil is going on in here?"

She started, dropped her "weapon." "My lord!" She held out a hand to her companion, who turned out to be her lady's maid.

His eyes scanned the area around them. The mattresses were still spaced  together on the floor to make a patchwork pillow. There was the parasol  and then some other weapon-looking thing, an exceptionally thin blade  that was now piercing into one of the stuffed figures.

"Were you hiding in a storage room?" she asked. Her labored breathing  caused her magnificent breasts to move up and down. A delicious flush  splattered her skin, and perspiration gleamed at her temples and above  her lip. He wanted to lick it off. He moved closer.

Her lack of clothing didn't seem to be bothering her, but it was  distracting him to near madness. This much of her exposed creamy flesh  and all he could think about was removing the rest of her garments so he  could feast on her delectable curves.

He eyed her maid. "Leave us!" Then he moved his gaze back to Harriet.

"Harriet?" the maid asked quietly.

"Go, Lottie. We'll be finished talking in a few moments."

"But, my lady, your dress." Her eyes lowered to indicate Harriet's  state. She handed the dress to Harriet, which she then held up to her  chest.

The maid left them standing in the cavernous ballroom. Harriet still  stood on top of the mattresses, and he was damned close to tossing her  backward onto them.

Anger rolled off her in hot waves. "You hid in there to spy on me?"

"I did."

"You don't even bother to deny it?"

"What purpose would that serve?"

"I don't know. But this is just like you to hide in wait and spy on me.  You're so damned accustomed to getting whatever you want, whenever you  want it." She shook her head. "You allow that unquenchable greed to  dictate every move you make, regardless of how it affects anyone else.  Any promises or agreements shoved to the side."

"This has nothing to do with greed." Though wanting her certainly did.  He wanted her at the moment with such intensity, he was surprised he  hadn't pounced on her yet.

"Of course it does. You have no ability to tell yourself no, no strength  of will to walk away from something you want. You were curious about  what I was doing, and despite our agreement that you would not ask  questions, you came to get precisely what you wanted."

She doubted his ability to control his urges and desires; he'd show her  precisely how much control he had. When this was over, it would be her  begging him. "Are you going to tell me what all of this is about?" She  was sexy as hell when angry. He gripped the top of his cane tighter to  rein in his desire.         

     



 

She tilted up her head and walked off the mattresses, brushing past him. "I am not."

"I'm not an idiot, Harriet." He followed her.

She wiped the sweat off her forehead and neck with a rag. The hair along her nape and face was damp, and it drew him closer.

"I never suggested you were." She turned to face him and started, not  realizing he had closed the distance between them. He took a step  forward. She took a step backward.

Granted he hadn't figured everything out, but he recognized enough of  what was before him and, combined with the latest scandal reverberating  through Society …  it was easy enough to put two and two together.

She backed against the wall behind her and froze, her brown eyes wide.

"I read the article. Are you part of this group of ladies who fight  crime? Is that what you're doing here, practicing?" he asked.

She sucked in a breath, confirming everything, but said nothing.

"That is quite a dangerous activity for a genteel lady."

"I have training and can protect myself."

He grinned.

She exhaled loudly, quite obviously annoyed she'd revealed something to him. "You are a beast."

He braced one hand on the wall behind her, put his body close enough to  her that he could feel the warmth radiating off her skin, smell her  subtle floral scent. She boldly looked up at him, no fear. Her eyes  darkened, and her lips parted.

"Are you going to kiss me again?"

He chuckled. "Do you want me to?"

Her breath caught. "Of course not."

"I disagree. I think you do." He took his hand off the wall and traced a finger down her cheek.

Her breath stuttered.

"Sweet Harriet, I think you desperately want me to kiss you." His thumb traced over her bottom lip.

She subconsciously dipped her tongue out to wet her lips and instead licked across his finger.

And it took every ounce of his control to not oblige her.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Proving my point."

She swallowed visibly. "Which is?"

He let his gaze bore into her. Moved his body close enough that she  could not doubt his arousal. He ground it against her to make certain.

Her eyes fluttered closed.

"That I can want something desperately and still walk away." He shoved  away from her then and left the room. He had to get some distance  between them else he would toss her down on those mattresses and have  his way with her.

 …

Harriet squeaked. There was no other way to describe the noise that came  from her throat. She closed her eyes, kept her back pressed to the  wall, and concentrated on her breathing.

Prove his point indeed. He'd been in perfect control; it was she who had  lost it. She never yelled at people. She had never, not even once,  allowed something to slip about the Ladies of Virtue. Yet she'd buckled  under his gaze. What was it about him that seemed to bring out her worst  qualities? Making her angry and frustrated and … wanton.

Her body still hummed with anticipation. Of what, she wasn't certain,  but she'd wanted more. Wanted him to touch her, kiss her. The feel of  his arousal pressed against her had nearly been her undoing. She'd  forgotten that her maid was in the other room. Harriet had wanted to  open herself to him, wrap her legs around his thighs and let him do  whatever he could to ease the ache he'd started in her core.

She had to find him a wife. And soon. Before she lost her senses  completely and did something ridiculous. Like fall in love with the  Marquess of Davenport.





Chapter Six


After his impromptu spying on her, Harriet was tempted to cancel their  entire agreement. He could find his own wife. Except she truly needed  that townhome. She didn't want her skills dulled, neither did Agnes and a  few of her other close friends from the Ladies of Virtue.

They needed a place to continue their practice. She couldn't deny that,  though she might not find him amiable, she instinctively recognized that  she could trust him. He didn't appear to be fond of anyone in this town  nor was he a gossip. Still, it made her uneasy that he'd seen her in  such a way.

And he'd gotten so close to her. She'd been able to feel the heat from  his body and smell the woodsy scent of him. Then the hard length of him  pressed against her. There'd been no mistaking that. Her body had  reacted so strongly. She'd wanted him to kiss her. She'd wanted him to  do more than kiss her.

But that was preposterous. She chalked it up to the fact that she'd been  lonely for much of her adult life. Granted, she pretended as if it were  perfectly acceptable to her that she hadn't found a husband or even had  any serious suitors. None of that changed the fact that she wanted to  get married, and she'd settle for nothing less than a love match. It had  worked for her parents as well as her sister.         

     



 

Waiting for love also kept her safe from any other potentially  humiliating scenarios like the one she'd shared with Oliver six years  ago when he'd so harshly rejected her and her dowry. If she insisted on  waiting for a love match, no one would be able to hurt her. The waiting  had gone on for so long, though, she was nearly certain there was no one  out there to love her. But she didn't need a husband to make her happy.  She had the Ladies of Virtue, and she refused to let some mysterious  and anonymous woman destroy their group.