didn’t want him to know that yet.
He eased his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. “That means we have two hours to wait. Are you sure you want to stay here? We should at least try and get back to the cellar.”
“If you think that would be wise.”
He went still. “Miss Pelly, I find myself worrying when you agree with me. Are you up to something?”
She shivered. “No, I’m not. If you must know, I’m rather afraid of the dark and such cramped spaces.”
He regarded her in silence for rather a long while. “Then let us proceed.”
She followed him meekly back up the tunnel, which for some reason seemed easier and shorter on the return journey than on the way down. Occasionally she touched the fabric of his coat, just to reassure herself of his warm, solid presence. Despite his charm, there was something far harder and more substantial to his character than she had originally imagined. He was also very perceptive and hard to deceive.
On the way down, she’d had time to think about her two main suspects, and to worry about what the earl might do to them. Surely he would understand that her loyalty to her family and friends meant everything to her? If he wouldn’t reveal his intentions, she’d have to warn them. And if she did that, she was fairly sure he’d never speak to her again. . . . It was a surprisingly depressing thought. How had she come to value his company so dearly in such a very few days? It was if she’d met her match, her soul mate, the man who would allow her to be herself. . . .
And she was willing to throw that away simply to save people who had never given her much thought, let alone love. Not that the earl would ever love her . . . not that she expected that at all, but maybe she could have her one night with him before he turned from her in disgust?
“Damnation!”
She was so deep in thought that she walked right into his back.
“What’s wrong?”
“The secret door back into the cellar is shut.”
Faith gave a quiet moan and sank down onto the floor. Hoping he’d stay with her was one thing; being trapped inside the tunnel with no escape was quite another.
“Oh, no .”
He crouched down beside her and took her hand in a comforting grip. “We’ll have to wait out the high tide. I think there was a widening of the passageway about thirty feet down. At least we might be more comfortable there.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
Faith allowed herself to be towed back down the tunnel. The earl felt in his coat pocket and produced another stub of candle and a flint, and proceeded to light the flame, melt the wax, and stick the candle into a protected nook in the wall. The small space was revealed to have two old crates upended in the sand and the remains of a small brandy cask. He motioned for her to sit down with him. When she hesitated, he reached out and dumped her on his lap.
“That’s better. We will be warmer if we sit together.” He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders so that it draped over them both.
She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the delicious space under his shaven chin. For a moment she simply inhaled the scent of warm man, spices, and leather. It was an intoxicating blend she reckoned she would remember for the rest of her long and dreary, spinsterish life.
He kissed her ear. “Don’t worry, Miss Pelly. I’m sure everything will be all right.”
She raised her head and touched his mouth with hers, opening her lips to flick her tongue over his. His breathing shortened, and he kissed her back until his hand was in her hair and she was pressed against him. With a groan, he rearranged her on his lap until she was straddling him, the rough wool of her stockings against his buckskin breeches and higher up, the soft bare flesh of her inner thighs and sex.
Mindless with pleasure she rubbed herself against him until he was hard, and that made it even better. His hand clamped down over
He eased his pocket watch out of his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. “That means we have two hours to wait. Are you sure you want to stay here? We should at least try and get back to the cellar.”
“If you think that would be wise.”
He went still. “Miss Pelly, I find myself worrying when you agree with me. Are you up to something?”
She shivered. “No, I’m not. If you must know, I’m rather afraid of the dark and such cramped spaces.”
He regarded her in silence for rather a long while. “Then let us proceed.”
She followed him meekly back up the tunnel, which for some reason seemed easier and shorter on the return journey than on the way down. Occasionally she touched the fabric of his coat, just to reassure herself of his warm, solid presence. Despite his charm, there was something far harder and more substantial to his character than she had originally imagined. He was also very perceptive and hard to deceive.
On the way down, she’d had time to think about her two main suspects, and to worry about what the earl might do to them. Surely he would understand that her loyalty to her family and friends meant everything to her? If he wouldn’t reveal his intentions, she’d have to warn them. And if she did that, she was fairly sure he’d never speak to her again. . . . It was a surprisingly depressing thought. How had she come to value his company so dearly in such a very few days? It was if she’d met her match, her soul mate, the man who would allow her to be herself. . . .
And she was willing to throw that away simply to save people who had never given her much thought, let alone love. Not that the earl would ever love her . . . not that she expected that at all, but maybe she could have her one night with him before he turned from her in disgust?
“Damnation!”
She was so deep in thought that she walked right into his back.
“What’s wrong?”
“The secret door back into the cellar is shut.”
Faith gave a quiet moan and sank down onto the floor. Hoping he’d stay with her was one thing; being trapped inside the tunnel with no escape was quite another.
“Oh, no .”
He crouched down beside her and took her hand in a comforting grip. “We’ll have to wait out the high tide. I think there was a widening of the passageway about thirty feet down. At least we might be more comfortable there.” He pulled her to her feet. “Come on.”
Faith allowed herself to be towed back down the tunnel. The earl felt in his coat pocket and produced another stub of candle and a flint, and proceeded to light the flame, melt the wax, and stick the candle into a protected nook in the wall. The small space was revealed to have two old crates upended in the sand and the remains of a small brandy cask. He motioned for her to sit down with him. When she hesitated, he reached out and dumped her on his lap.
“That’s better. We will be warmer if we sit together.” He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders so that it draped over them both.
She looped her arms around his neck and buried her face in the delicious space under his shaven chin. For a moment she simply inhaled the scent of warm man, spices, and leather. It was an intoxicating blend she reckoned she would remember for the rest of her long and dreary, spinsterish life.
He kissed her ear. “Don’t worry, Miss Pelly. I’m sure everything will be all right.”
She raised her head and touched his mouth with hers, opening her lips to flick her tongue over his. His breathing shortened, and he kissed her back until his hand was in her hair and she was pressed against him. With a groan, he rearranged her on his lap until she was straddling him, the rough wool of her stockings against his buckskin breeches and higher up, the soft bare flesh of her inner thighs and sex.
Mindless with pleasure she rubbed herself against him until he was hard, and that made it even better. His hand clamped down over
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