Which was why, when he crossed the threshold of that chamber and found someone else within, he was taken aback. Initially by the presence of another. And then because of the identity of the room’s other occupant.
Her.
As if conjured from his tortured imaginings, Lady Felicity Hughes stood in the center of the room. Though her back was to him, he would recognize her anywhere. Warmth swept over him, landing in his groin. She was once more all ethereal elegance, dressed in a pale-yellow gown, her chestnut curls captured in a chignon. She had not realized he had entered the room, and he took a moment to admire her.
Just one.
Then he spoke, because now that he had her where he wanted her, how could he deny himself the opportunity to have his revenge upon her for the little game she had played at his expense the day before?
“Lady Felicity.”
She spun about on a shriek, hand flying over her heart, eyes wide. She had been holding a book in her hands, and the volume flew across the carpet, landing with a thud. He had truly given her a fright.
Blade grinned at her, unrepentant, and sauntered deeper into the room. “Do try to cease hollering. I would hate for the company to come racing here, thinking I have ravished you.”
“Mr. Winter! What are you doing here?”
Her cheeks had turned that delicious shade of pink he had come to know and enjoy. Her tone was one of chastisement. He wanted to kiss her breathless.
“I came to fetch our hostess’s sewing, at her request.” He bent down to retrieve the book she had flung when he had given her a start. “What areyoudoing here?”
“Give that to me,” she said, instead of answering his question.
He could not deny her defensiveness about the thin, leather-bound volume intrigued him.
“Don’t think I will,” he told her, glancing down at the unassuming cover.
She reached for it, her cheeks growing redder still.
This was not the distraction he had sought, but it was an even better one. His grin deepening, he held the book over her head, quite out of reach. There were two benefits to having been born the bastard of old man Winter. His height was one, his siblings the other.
“Mr. Winter, please.”
He liked the way she begged. It brought to mind other, more sinful means of begging. “Please what, Lady Felicity? I am afraid you will have to elaborate.”
She jumped, the action making her breasts bounce delightfully.
Scoundrel that he was, he held the book higher and kept his stare riveted. Her hazel eyes were rimmed with dark gray, her lashes long.Damn, but she was beautiful. And her irritation only enhanced her loveliness.
If only he was not meant to stay out of trouble.
“The book is not mine, and I have been tasked with returning it to its true owner.” She leapt again, reaching for the book.
This time, she lost her balance. She fell forward, colliding with his chest. He caught her to him with his free arm, anchoring her lush body to his. Nothing but feminine curves and prickly outrage and heat emerging from her. Along with the scent of jasmine.
“Do you know what I think, Lady Felicity?” he asked, dipping his head so their faces were near, as if he were imparting a secret.
Or about to kiss her tempting lips.
Said lips parted. “Mr. Winter.”
But the bite was gone from her tone. Her stare dipped to his mouth.
“Yes, darling?” he teased.
Blade could not help himself. Supposed to stay away from trouble or not, trouble was currently in his arms, and he had no intention of letting her go so easily.
“You are being insufferably forward. No gentleman would act in such a disreputable fashion.” She blinked, her gaze returning to his at last. “Nor have I given you leave to speak to me with such familiarity. I amnotyour darling.”
