Cass groaned, his hips shooting forward at the delicious twinge of pain. Dear God, did she know what she was doing to him? She was driving him mad with her sweet, innocent caresses, the seductive press of her body against his.
“Hattie, we can’t?—”
“Shhh. We’ll return to Lady Fosberry soon. Soon, Cass, but not yet.”
He let out a defeated groan and nuzzled his face into the fragrant hollow of her shoulder, the faint hint of honeysuckle making him dizzy with desire. He would die if he didn’t kiss her again.
Just one more kiss…
He caught her face in his hands, their breath mingling as he lowered his mouth to hers. The instant their lips touched the smoldering spark between them caught alight, and he tugged her closer, his arms closing around her waist.
It might have gone too far—it would certainly have gone too far if the crunch of carriage wheels coming up Lady Fosberry’s drive hadn’t penetrated his fogged brain.
Carriage wheels? Who would be visiting Lady Fosberry now? It was much too early in the day for callers, with the sun only having crested the horizon several hours earlier.
But there was indeed a carriage on the drive despite the early hour, a fine, navy blue one with gold fittings and shiny blackwheels, and it was moving at such a brisk pace, the horse’s hooves had kicked up a thick cloud of dust behind it.
“Oh, dear God.” Hattie was watching the carriage’s approach with wide eyes. “For pity’s sake! Of all the hours in the day he might have arrived, why did it have to be rightnow?”
“Hattie?” Cass didn’t recognize the carriage, but he’d caught a glimpse of a crest on the door. “Who is it?”
The carriage reached the top of the drive and came to a screeching halt in the circle at the bottom of the steps that led to the front door. One of the carriage doors flew open before the driver had a chance to descend from the box, and a tall gentleman in a handsome black greatcoat leaped out, a walking stick clutched rather threateningly in his gloved hand.
There was something familiar about him. Cass had seen this man before, but he couldn’t quite place where he’d?—
“Lord Windham!” The deep voice carried across the drive. “Be so good as to unhand my sister this instant, if you please! What do you mean, mauling her in the middle of Lady Fosberry’s rose garden?”
Hissister? “Er, Hattie, is that?—”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Hattie blanched as the man stalked across the drive toward the garden gate, every inch of him quivering with fury. “My brother Johnathan has arrived in London at last.”
“Letme see if I have this straight.” Johnathan paced to one end of the drawing room, paused, then marched back in the other direction, the heavy thud of his boots punctuating every word. “No sooner did?—”
“Perhaps it would be best if you put your walking stick down, Lord Melrose,” Lady Fosberry suggested calmly. “You wouldn’t want to accidentally strike someone with it.”
“Or not so accidentally,” Sarah muttered under her breath, stealing a glance at Cass.
Johnathan ignored them and resumed his pacing. “No sooner did Emmeline and I leave for Oxfordshire than the three of you absconded to London without a word to anyone. Do I have that right?”
Hattie glanced at her sisters, but Margaret and Sarah were both staring down at their hands as if they’d never seen anything as fascinating as their own fingers.
But it had been her idea to come to London, so perhaps it was only fair that she accept the brunt of Johnathan’s wrath. “In a manner of speaking, yes, although I must say I think the wordabscondputs it in a much uglier light than?—”
“Imagine my shock when I ran into Lady Peregrine in Oxfordshire, and she told me what a delight it was to have met my charming sisters at Lady Featherington’s garden party in London.”
“Lady Farthingale’s garden party,” Sarah corrected. “Her name is Lady Farthingale.”
“She may as well be Lady Rattletrap for all the difference it makes!” Johnathan threw his hands in the air. “I kept insisting to Lady Peregrine that she must be mistaken, that my sisters were in Kent until at last it dawned on me that perhaps you weren’t in Kent, after all!”
“Oh, dear.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “How terribly embarrassing for you.”
“Embarrassing?” Johnathan pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I didn’t have the least idea my own sisters were in London!”
“Now, my lord,” Lady Fosberry began in a soothing tone. “It’s not as bad as you make it out to be.”
“No? Forgive me, my lady, but I find it troubling indeed that my sisters left Melrose House without my permission! Without my knowledge, even! What in God’s name were you thinking?”
“It’s not as if we were here in London alone,” Margaret said. “Lady Fosberry has been taking very good care of us this entire?—”
