Rogues and Ripped Bodices (41 page)

“Follow
me,” she ordered.

He
winced when bare feet hit gravel but soon wooden floorboards gave him relief as
they moved through the bowels of the house. A maid gave a little curtsey when
they passed. He heard her startled sound when she spotted him, but they came
upon no others.

Unfortunately
for him, his good luck ran out once they started up the grand staircase. With
the feel of plush red carpet beneath his feet, he had thought he was almost
safe. But a stern-faced butler greeted them halfway up. Somehow, the man
managed to keep his face straight but disproval rang clear in dark grey eyes.

“Bertram,
will you send Tillie to my room in just a moment?”

“Of
course, Your Grace.”

“Have a
bath sent up to the Lavender Suite.”

“Yes,
Your Grace. Will there be anything else?”

“No,
thank you.”

And so
they continued their journey upstairs. Pierce was aware of a steely glare at
his back.
If looks could kill...

“Here
we are.” She pushed open a door and indicated inside.

Pierce
stepped into what turned out to be a room large enough to fit his entire London
apartment in. Well, perhaps it was not so large but it felt it. And it was not
as though he was unaccustomed to decadence. After all he’d grown up in a grand
manor house. But this was something else. Chairs and a desk occupied one half,
while a canopy bed took up the other half. If this was a guest chamber, he’d
love to see the inside of her room.

He
turned to find her still on the threshold. Seeing her set against the pale blue
of the hallway, against a backdrop of gilded frames, somehow sent his heart
crashing against his ribs. He hadn’t taken a moment to admire her properly and
the dim light of the carriage hadn’t done her justice. But now...

Now,
he’d like to see her bedroom. With her in it. On her bed. Crimson hair spread
about her, jewels against her naked skin. Oh yes.

Curse
it, now he was aroused and the damn jacket wouldn’t do a thing to hide it. He
clasped it around himself and gave a formal nod of his head.

“I’ll
arrange for some clothes, and one of the servants shall pour you a bath.”

“Thank
you, Evelyn.”

Her
name came out slightly gruff. Her eyes widened when he came to the door with
the intention of shutting it as she left.

Except
she didn’t leave. Her gaze skimmed down and he had no doubt she spotted his
arousal pressing the coat out.

That
blue gaze met his once more, and he knew it for certain. No shock registered
though. Only a slight widening of her pupils. Then, when he glanced at her
neck, the flutter of her pulse. If he wasn’t much mistaken, he wasn’t the only
one aroused here.

Her
tongue darted briefly out to swipe her bottom lip and she backed away. A sharp
pang of regret clawed his insides. He’d been half-tempted to latch an arm
around her and draw her into the room—thank her properly for her hospitality.

But the
moment drifted away as she gave him a slight incline of her head. An
acknowledgment perhaps of what had passed between them?

Before
he could ask or ponder the question further, she’d left him. No word of
farewell or a polite
good day
. Simply gone. He shut the door and let his
lips tilt as he considered the fascinating woman. Somehow his day had become a
darn sight more interesting.