“Inside?”
He pointed to the stable.
Her heartbeat raced at what he was suggesting. Then he pulled her with him into the darkened interior. Letting go of her hand, he closed the doors.
As her eyes adjusted, she looked about, vaguely wondering if there was a cot nearby, then scolded herself for thinking such a depraved thought.
Marcus grabbed her hand again and strode to the back of the stables, past the stalls to where the phaeton was stored. “I’m going to help you up so you can sit on the floor of the phaeton.”
Seeing as there was no cot, her curiosity had her complying. She grinned at him as he stood before her. From her vantage point, she could see over his head into the other stalls. “I do believe this may make kissing a little difficult. Was there something you wanted to show me?”
His hands on her ankles immediately brought her mind back to kissing.
“Yes. I want to show you what I mean by tasting you.” Letting go of her ankles, he lifted the skirts of her dress over his head.
Her heart skidded to a halt as his hands ran up her legs and nudged her thighs apart. It was only then that she remembered the sketch inThe Illustrated Pleasures of Seduction. A lightning bolt of excitement flew through her abdomen before she felt his first lick. “Oh.” She had no chance to say anything else as he demonstrated exactly what he’d meant.
Chapter Eighteen
Marcus stared outthe window of his study, his view on the stables as if they could somehow help him. The last three weeks courting and loving Mariel had been both exciting and concerning. He and Anthony had found Cobby multiple times, but they still hadn’t caught him. The man was more slippery than an eel and just as hideous.
He and Anthony had arrived at Cobby’s room only to discover it empty and the window open. It was obvious he heard them in the tavern below and had climbed down to the ground via the trash piled against the building. They didn’t expect that to be a problem as Anthony’s man had followed.
For weeks now, they arrived moments too late to confront Cobby, and Marcus was losing patience.
A single knock on the door heralded the entrance of Anthony. “We’ve got him. He’s at the Devil’s Own pub playing cards. I suggest we wait until the middle of the night and then corner him.”
He would have agreed, but that was what they’d been doing for weeks. They needed to change their tactics. “No.”
“No?” Anthony strode forward to sit on the arm of a nearby arm chair. “But we have your quarry in sight.”
“Yes, but in sight is not in hand. I feel like a street dog chasing a rat that slips beneath the building just as its cornered. We must trap the rat.”
Anthony’s brows raised. “Ah, that is true. I should have thought of that. But to trap a rat, we need bait.”
He rubbed his thigh as he anticipated Anthony’s reaction to his next suggestion. “There is only one thing Cobby wants, and that’s me.”
His friend jumped to his feet. “Absolutely not. The man will kill you on sight.”
“Maybe, but I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
He strode over to his desk and pulled out the papers he’d been using to write down every detail he knew about Cobby. Anthony had suggested it after their last foiled attempt to capture the man. He spread the three sheets out next to each other.
Anthony strode across the room to join him. “What is this?”
“These are the notes I compiled about Cobby.”
His friend grinned. “So you did write everything down. May I?”
He moved to the side to make room for Anthony to read through what he’d written.
“Don’t forget we found his dagger in that room next to the Three Tups and a Jug. That could mean he no longer has one.”
“Or that he’s stolen another.” He unplugged the ink and dipped his quill into it and added the information to a sheet. That reminded him of something else he’d forgotten. “His gloves. He left his riding gloves behind as well at that place. We must have surprised him.”
“Do you think he stabled his horse nearby?”
