His cock was desperately, despicably hard.
“I was wondering if we might speak candidly for a few moments, my dear,” Lady Fangfoss was saying to Clementine. “Word has arrived from your mother concerning your sister’s lying in. Lady Wilmot is now the mother of a healthy son.”
“Oh, that is wonderful news,” Clementine said, her tone earnest. “Thank you for seeking me out.”
“I had also sent word of my failure as your chaperone to your mother,” the countess pressed on, sounding as proper as any governess.
“Oh dear.” Clementine’s hem raised, her skirts swishing in agitation, and he imagined her to be clasping handfuls in her distress.
Parents were a complication he had navigated once before, but he had spent so many years devoted to being a rakehell that he had quite forgotten the necessary steps for a real betrothal. Fine time for a reminder, trapped in the darkness beneath a bed he had not had the pleasure of using for its most divine purpose, spiderwebs stuck to his face.
As it turned out, the mentioning of Clementine’s mother was just the thing to make his cock shrivel. Well, at least there was a measure of reprieve to be had after all.
“It had to be done, my dear,” Lady Fangfoss said, her navy skirts brushing the Axminster, taking her nearer to Clementine. “I wear the mantle of my responsibility as hostess and former teacher, in addition to acting your chaperone. When I first settled upon the notion of this house party, it was my intention to facilitate some matches for my former students who have yet to wed. However, I had no wish to see any of you manage to find yourselves in compromising positions.”
“I hope you did not tell my mother about the bee incident,” Clementine said weakly. “It was my intention to make that particular event a secret of this party.”
“I did relay to her ladyship the heroic manner in which Lord Dorset came to your aid,” Lady Fangfoss offered.
And he liked the woman even more for that.
“He was indeed very heroic,” Clementine added. “I am fortunate to have such a chivalrous betrothed.”
And he also lovedClementineeven more forthat. He was grinning beneath the bed, spiderwebs and dust and all. Someone truly ought to take the Fangfoss Manor chamber maids to task, however. This much dust beneath the bed was reprehensible.
“I would so hate for any winds of scandal to reach your mother,” Lady Fangfoss cautioned. “You must see how deleterious it would be to your parents finding the match acceptable. They would be more amenable to a hasty nuptial between yourself and the marquess if the reason for one was love, you understand, and not…necessity. I trust you do wish for a hasty wedding, eager as you seem to find time with Lord Dorset.”
Well, hell and damnation. Unless he was mistaken, the cunning Lady Fangfoss was aware of his presence in the room. And she was also making certain nothing untoward would occur between himself and Clementine after her departure. It was something of a reprimand, her presence here.
A pointed reminder, too.
Yes, he would bloody well behave himself. He was a gentleman after all. Even if he had once been a rake. He would take care for Clementine’s sake.
“Of course, Miss—my lady,” Clementine caught herself. “I promise there will be nary a hint of scandal.”
Fergus chose that moment to dart from his hiding place beneath the table and join Dorset under the bed. The fluff of orange sidled up to his face, leaving him with not just dust and cobwebs to contend with but fur as well.
Do not sneeze again, he warned himself.
Centum, nonaginta novem, nonaginta et octo…
This time, he bit his lip and held his breath, barely suppressing the sneeze. As his body jerked with the effort to subdue it, he frightened Fergus, who hissed and went racing from beneath the bed.
“What in heaven’s name could have disturbed the poor kitten so beneath that bed?” Lady Fangfoss asked knowingly.
He began to pray that he would not suffer the ignominy of being caught beneath Clementine’s bed by their hostess.Not today, Lord.He had not needed to sneak about with a lady since…
Hell, he could not recall.
That he was doing so now was proof of just how much Clementine meant to him. How hard he had fallen in love with her.
“Perhaps he saw a spider,” Clementine suggested brightly, stepping between Lady Fangfoss and the end of the bed.
“Hmm,” their hostess said, as if she did not quite believe the explanation. “Perhaps. I shall send a chamber maid to you soon to see that the area under your bed is tidied. In, shall we say, ten minutes, Lady Clementine?”
He would have laughed had his current situation not been so tenuous. Instead, he waited as Clementine declared ten minutes would be perfect and then escorted their hostess to the door.
Blast.He would have far preferred twenty.
