A horse whinnied as if to second the motion and with a splinteringthwack, the stable itself seemed to shake around them to emphasize the point. Not far from the tack room door, someone swore in pain.
Connor began to hear it, all the sounds he’d blocked out. It was feeding time and nigh unto a dozen men worked feet away. This wasn’t the time or place for this.
Not that any time would be. Piper was an innocent, he needed to remember that.
Hands on her waist, he eased her away and stepped back to adjust the front of his trousers. “It’s getting late. I’ll make certain Albert sees ye safely home.”
“Don’t you want to take me yourself?”
Connor swallowed hard. Dazed with passion, her eyes heavy and words husky, she couldn’t know the invitation in her request or the depths of his desire to comply in so many ways.
“No’ just now. I’ve some questions to consider before I speak wi’ Granger tomorrow,” he opted.
She nodded. “I’d like to hear what you discover. Will you join me for tea tomorrow at my home?”
His brows rose of their own accord. He couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d suggested they take tea on the moon. Piper was offering him her complete trust. It humbled him.
“Aye, lass. I’d enjoy that.”
A smile lit her eyes, bright enough to vanquish the darkness around them. “Good. I’ll save dessert for you.”
Whatever scandalous thoughts reflected on his face then he wasn’t certain, but crimson flooded her cheeks.
“I’ve already had the tarts.”
“I’ll have something even better.”
With arousal still lacing her voice, the words offered more than pudding. She’d couldn’t know the innuendo that rekindled his arousal. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious.”
Alas, it couldn’t possibly be as delicious as she.
* * *
Archie awaited him at the stable door. The footman’s face beet red even in the dying light as if he knew what Connor had been about. “Begging your pardon, m’lor—er, sir, a gentleman called at the service door for you.”
“Did he gi’ a name?”
“No, m’lord,” the footman answered. “He’s dressed right proper, though, and has an air about him.”
“Ah, good.” Excellent, in fact. He was in desperate need of a diversion. “Where is he now?”
“In the gray drawing room, m’lord.”
“Set someone to prepare a room in the bachelor quarters, if ye would.”
The footman hastened away to carry out his order and Connor accelerated his step to follow. Entering the east court gate, he bypassed the doors leading to the service areas and kitchen and entered near the morning room.
This trek through the massive building took him from there through the dining room and down the length of the east gallery.
“Temple, my apologies for keeping ye waiting.” Connor greeted his visitor with a smile and an extended hand that the gentleman took with a firm shake. “’Tis a long walk to get from one room to another.”
“I noticed.”
“Thank ye for taking the time from yer schedule.”
“Always glad to help a friend in need.”
Lord Captain Anthony Temple was an affable fellow and longtime friend of his brothers Vin and Richard. He’d served with them in the Scots Guards First Battalion under the command of His Royal Highness, the Duke of Connaught during the Urabi rebellion in Egypt nearly a decade ago. They’d been captured together and kept as prisoners of war. Richard and Temple had managed to escape after a few months, though it had taken years more for Vin to be recovered. Temple had been like one of the MacKintosh clan ever since.
