Page 46 of Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love 1)

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Eugenia placed her hand on her chest and took a deep breath. Devon had scared her half to death. What in heaven’s name was he doing creeping around the dark garden?

“What are you doing in the dark garden?” Devon’s question came out before she could form the same words, still trying to catch her breath.

Her heart still pounding, she gasped, “Taking a walk.”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “A walk? Through the bushes? You will be fortunate if you do not stumble and break a limb.”

Her legs felt so weak, there was a good possibility she would swoon.

“Eugenia, you look as though you will collapse at any moment.” He took her by the elbow and practically dragged her down the path to a stone bench where he deposited her. Pushing her head down, he said “Breathe.”

“It is quite hard to breathe, my lord, with my face plastered against my lap.”

He eased up a bit and, feeling a bit more composed and able to drag air into her lungs, she added, “It is nice and quiet out here. The ballroom was much too noisy.”

Devon waved at her head. “You have a leaf or something in your hair.”

“Oh.” She felt around, then plucked the sprig from her head and dropped it to the ground. Feeling more herself, she raised her chin. “And what are you doing out here in the dark garden, my lord?”

“Me?” He stared at her as if she asked him to recite all the kings and queens since the Norman Conquest. “Me?”

“You said you intended to go to the card room.”

“Indeed, I did.”

She tilted her head, awaiting his answer. If anyone looked guilty—and she was sure she did—it was Devon. Was he here in the garden to meet his paramour? Was he disappointed when he came upon her instead?

Devon reached out and pulled her up. Placing her hand on his arm he began to walk. “You are quite right, my dear. The ballroom is much too noisy. And crowded. And hot. As is the card room.”

They made their way back to the patio in silence. Feeling the beginning of a headache, she stopped their movement just as they reached the door to the ballroom. “I think I will call for our carriage, my lord. I am fatigued.”

He studied her. “I believe I will return home with you.”

Surprised at this unexpected turn of events, she allowed him to escort her through the crowded room. They were stopped a few times by friends and acquaintances along the way. Devon accepted an invitation to a hunting party at Lord Barrymore’s estate two weeks hence. Lady Barrymore assured Eugenia that his sister, Lady Agnes, who resided with him and acted as hostess for his parties, had arranged for plenty of entertainments for the ladies, as well.

A soft rain had begun to fall as they descended the steps to the carriage under the umbrella the footman held over them. Eugenia settled in the comfortable leather seat across from Devon, who stared out at the blackness.

What had he been doing in the garden? She did not intend to give up on her scheme, but she couldn’t help but believe Devon would soon have a new mistress upon whom to slake his baser needs. Needs that a proper lady should be repulsed by. If a man’s baser needs were some of the things she’d seen in her book, she couldn’t help feeling cheated.

Although reading her book and viewing the pictures had given rise to unfamiliar feelings in her middle and private parts, she’d had the opportunity to identify the warm feelings as her own passion the night she and Devon had made love differently than it had always been. When those same feelings arose from Devon’s touches, she knew that passion was definitely not something she would resist or be repulsed by.

In fact, now that she’d had the taste of it, she wanted more. If that made her an improper lady, then so be it. Her mother was not always right.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of their townhouse. Bellows immediately made his way down the steps carrying a large umbrella. He escorted Eugenia to the house, then returned for Devon.

Wondering if Devon would continue with his normal routine and visit her this night—since it was Thursday evening, she began her climb to the first floor.

Devon took her hand as she gained the first step. “My dear, I am weary myself this evening. You may enjoy your rest tonight.” He refused to look her in the eye as he mumbled his words.

She dipped her head. “As you wish, my lord.”

“Yes. Well, good night then.” He offered her a brief smile, hesitated for a moment, then made his way toward the library.

“Good night.” She trudged up the steps and slowly walked to her bedchamber, entered the room, and cast her reticule on the bed. She slipped out of her wrap and rang for Sally. Why couldn’t she be the one to instigate coupling? Was there some rule that said only men could decide when intimacy was appropriate?

Of course there were rules. She’d heard them all her life. Well, she was sick of rules that denied ladies passion and pleasure in the marital bed.