“Is this it?” he asked at the same time.
“Yes.”
“My apologies for interrupting, lass. Ye were saying?”
Lifting her free hand, she raked her fingernails along his scruffy jaw. The sensation brought to his mind the stroke of her tongue tracing the same path. Her eyes explored him with the persuasive power of a physical caress. The lass couldn’t know what she did to him.
Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I was going to say…rather, I didn’t get a chance to mention it last night in the tack room before we were interrupted…I want you, too. Very much.”
Piper turned to the door, leaving him to gawk after her. He had suspected. Feared. Hearing it aloud nearly undid him.
She meant to seduce him.
Coming here had been a blunder of colossal proportions.
He’d known the moment she extended then invitation. Had dwelled on it since he’d parted from her. Had been torn by anticipation and dread all through the day. God knew as well as he, he ought not be left alone with her.
With a prayer on his lips, he pleaded to the heavens for the strength he knew he did not possess.
Opening the door, she stepped inside and glanced back at him. “Are you coming?”
Chapter 16
I must do something. Run perhaps? But where? The duke has said there is nowhere to run where he would not find me. I’m so dreadfully afraid that he is right.
~from the diary of Piper Brudenall, January 1893
For a moment, Piper thought he would refuse to enter. His indecision might have been diverting if she weren’t on pins and needles herself.
For many reasons.
Right now, she found she had no desire to mark the commencement of what she hoped to be a delightful evening with a truth that would ruin it for them both.
“Home, sweet home.” He ducked his head to enter.
Yes. Though not for long. For the first time, the thought didn’t terrify her. There was more, much more. To life. To other matters as well. She wanted Connor to be the one to draw her down a path far different than the one she’d just led him down. It was something she wanted more than she could remember wanting anything in a long while. To have him take her to that haven, a place filled with ecstasy.
“Edith, I’m back,” she called, and physically felt some of the tension leave Connor.
“There you are, m’—” The maid’s eyes widened in shock, glued to Connor. “—M-m-Mrs. Mil-Milbourne. You’ve brought a guest.”
“Connor, this is Edith.” She should have warned the maid but had been too nervous herself to manage it. “Edith, this is Mr. MacKintosh. The new marchioness’s brother from Scotland.”
He shook the maid’s hand gallantly, leaving her more agape than before. “My pleasure, Edith. Ye seem rather familiar. Have we met before?”
Edith’s gaze shifted from Piper to Connor and back, searching for an answer.
“She should,” Piper answered for her. “Edith works at the manor several days a week. I haven’t the work here to keep her full time nor the room for her to live in.”
The maid nodded with excessive enthusiasm. Before she could inadvertently divulge the secrets Piper hadn’t as yet explained to Connor herself, she sent her to the kitchen with a mission. “A tea tray, please, Edith. I left water in the kettle. And some of those raspberry scones I made for Mr. MacKintosh.”
The maid bobbed a curtsy. “Yes, m-m-ma’am.”
When she disappeared into the kitchen, Piper shed Connor’s coat and unbuttoned her jacket. “Will you help me, Connor?”
With visible reluctance, he dragged the short coat off her shoulders. His throat bobbed as his eyes drifted down. Her bosom strained the buttons of her blouse.
She turned to hang it on a hook along with hers.
