Read Online A Lady's Guide to Improper Behavior by Suzanne Enoch - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Enoch
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favor. Think hard on this, ladies: Is one kiss, no matter how perfect or heartfelt, worth the risk?”
A L ADY’S G UIDE TO P ROPER B EHAVIOR
T olly stared after Theresa as she and the lumbering Adonis known as Lord Lionel Humphreys trotted away. A heady mix of heat, lust, and pain seared through his muscles, rendering him taut and speechless at the same time.
Sweet Lucifer. All she’d done was appear, and all he could think of was bare skin and sweat and sweet moans of pleasure. While it might have been his fault for being unable to resist riding her down and then teasing her, he hadn’t expected that the impossible chit would still want to dance with him—even after he’d mauled her the last time she’d saved him a dance.
Still breathing hard from the morning’s exercise,Tolly patted Meru on the flank. “That’s enough for today, I think.”
Taking a more sedate pace mostly because Mayfair’s late morning traffic demanded it, he headed back to Ainsley House and the Adventurers’ Club. His knee felt on fire, but at least on horseback he could move the way he used to. For an hour or two, for a handful of miles, he could forget that he’d allowed fifteen men to die while he’d lived.
Except that he never forgot. Not until today. Today he’d been thinking about Theresa Weller—and then she’d appeared twenty feet away from him.
“He looks winded, Colonel,” Jenkins observed as he gripped Meru’s bridle. “You had a good ride, then?”
“Yes,” he answered, as he always did. The Ainsley House grooms had proved to be as helpful as those at James House, and without waiting to be asked the second groom, Harlow, carefully pulled his boot from the stirrup, then stepped around to help him to the ground.
Tolly swung his leg over, and Harlow helped support his weight until he could free his right foot. The second his bad foot touched the ground, though, white-hot agony shot all the way up his spine into his skull, where it exploded. Before he could do more than gasp, everything went black.
A cut-off scream, and then the worse sound of absolute silence. A quiet filled with murder and death. Then screams that broke through, first one, then more, all around. Shouting, gunfire, a burst of flames and the glint of steel. Being choked—
Tolly roared upright, wrapping his hands around the throat of the man leaning over him. A heartbeat later an arm snaked around his neck and shoulder from behind, pulling him down again.
“Colonel! Tolly! Let him go!”
He blinked, the present crashing back into his mind. “Gibbs,” he rasped, and released the servant. The man staggered backward, coughing.
“He was untying your cravat.” The arm pulling him back onto the bed relaxed and vanished, and the Duke of Sommerset stood to straighten the sleeve of his fine gray jacket.
“Apologies,” Tolly grunted, rubbing his own throat. “You startled me, Gibbs.”
“I’ll try not to do that again, then, Colonel.”
He was in the small room he’d commandeered at the club, and in addition to Sommerset and Gibbs, Dr. Prentiss and Harlow the groom were packed inside, as well. With a scowl Bartholomew pulled himself into a seated position on the bed.
“Did someone convene Parliament when I wasn’t looking?” he asked stiffly. “And where are my damned trousers?” His frown deepening, he adjusted the blanket thrown across his middle.
“Ruined, I’m afraid,” Dr. Prentiss answered, indicating a ripped pile of dark cloth on the floor.
“I fainted. The devil knows I’ve done that before. You didn’t need to strip me. So thank you for carrying me off, and now leave me be.”
“About that,” Prentiss continued, clearing his throat. “You’ve been using your leg a bit hard, lad.”
“It’s my leg. I’ve been using it as necessary.”
“Mmm-hmm. Who tended it in India?”
Tolly looked from Sommerset to the physician. “Arnold. The company’s head groom.”
“A groom.”
“The company’s doctor
A L ADY’S G UIDE TO P ROPER B EHAVIOR
T olly stared after Theresa as she and the lumbering Adonis known as Lord Lionel Humphreys trotted away. A heady mix of heat, lust, and pain seared through his muscles, rendering him taut and speechless at the same time.
Sweet Lucifer. All she’d done was appear, and all he could think of was bare skin and sweat and sweet moans of pleasure. While it might have been his fault for being unable to resist riding her down and then teasing her, he hadn’t expected that the impossible chit would still want to dance with him—even after he’d mauled her the last time she’d saved him a dance.
Still breathing hard from the morning’s exercise,Tolly patted Meru on the flank. “That’s enough for today, I think.”
Taking a more sedate pace mostly because Mayfair’s late morning traffic demanded it, he headed back to Ainsley House and the Adventurers’ Club. His knee felt on fire, but at least on horseback he could move the way he used to. For an hour or two, for a handful of miles, he could forget that he’d allowed fifteen men to die while he’d lived.
Except that he never forgot. Not until today. Today he’d been thinking about Theresa Weller—and then she’d appeared twenty feet away from him.
“He looks winded, Colonel,” Jenkins observed as he gripped Meru’s bridle. “You had a good ride, then?”
“Yes,” he answered, as he always did. The Ainsley House grooms had proved to be as helpful as those at James House, and without waiting to be asked the second groom, Harlow, carefully pulled his boot from the stirrup, then stepped around to help him to the ground.
Tolly swung his leg over, and Harlow helped support his weight until he could free his right foot. The second his bad foot touched the ground, though, white-hot agony shot all the way up his spine into his skull, where it exploded. Before he could do more than gasp, everything went black.
A cut-off scream, and then the worse sound of absolute silence. A quiet filled with murder and death. Then screams that broke through, first one, then more, all around. Shouting, gunfire, a burst of flames and the glint of steel. Being choked—
Tolly roared upright, wrapping his hands around the throat of the man leaning over him. A heartbeat later an arm snaked around his neck and shoulder from behind, pulling him down again.
“Colonel! Tolly! Let him go!”
He blinked, the present crashing back into his mind. “Gibbs,” he rasped, and released the servant. The man staggered backward, coughing.
“He was untying your cravat.” The arm pulling him back onto the bed relaxed and vanished, and the Duke of Sommerset stood to straighten the sleeve of his fine gray jacket.
“Apologies,” Tolly grunted, rubbing his own throat. “You startled me, Gibbs.”
“I’ll try not to do that again, then, Colonel.”
He was in the small room he’d commandeered at the club, and in addition to Sommerset and Gibbs, Dr. Prentiss and Harlow the groom were packed inside, as well. With a scowl Bartholomew pulled himself into a seated position on the bed.
“Did someone convene Parliament when I wasn’t looking?” he asked stiffly. “And where are my damned trousers?” His frown deepening, he adjusted the blanket thrown across his middle.
“Ruined, I’m afraid,” Dr. Prentiss answered, indicating a ripped pile of dark cloth on the floor.
“I fainted. The devil knows I’ve done that before. You didn’t need to strip me. So thank you for carrying me off, and now leave me be.”
“About that,” Prentiss continued, clearing his throat. “You’ve been using your leg a bit hard, lad.”
“It’s my leg. I’ve been using it as necessary.”
“Mmm-hmm. Who tended it in India?”
Tolly looked from Sommerset to the physician. “Arnold. The company’s head groom.”
“A groom.”
“The company’s doctor
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