Sally MacKenzie Bundle (249 page)

Stephen’s heart was lurching about in his chest in a most distracting manner. He loved his parents, but he loved them more when they were home at the Priory. “You must be mistaken. Mama wouldn’t leave baby Jack, and Da wouldn’t leave his study.”

Nick looked up at the ceiling as if he thought he might discover some intelligence there, as he clearly felt Stephen lacked any. “I may be eight years your junior, dear brother, but I’m not a knock-in-the-cradle. I do recognize our parents. I assure you Mama about hugged me to death. And yes, Da just looked as if he wanted to get back to his sonnets.” He cocked a brow at Stephen. “But I’d say they both were somewhat keen on talking to you.”

“Bloody hell.” Stephen downed his Madeira and poured some more. “Mama could not have got wind of the betrothal.” He took a more judicious swallow and shook his head. “And even if she had, there’s no way in Hades she could have made it to London this quickly. The notice was just in the papers this morning.” And the thought hadn’t been in his head before yesterday, but he wasn’t about to tell Nick that.

“I suspect she decided about five minutes after I left home that she didn’t care to have me loose in London with only my brother, the King of Hearts, to provide supervision.”

Stephen cringed. Damn that nickname. “I’m not your keeper.”

“I know that. You know that. I think even Da knows that. Mama, however, is of a different opinion.”

Nick was likely correct. Mama
would
expect him to look out for his brother. And he would, of course, but his notion of acceptable behavior for a young man about Town and Mama’s were certain to be vastly different. “I could have sworn nothing short of the end of the world could separate Mama from her new grandson.”

“Well, yes, but I imagine she convinced herself in short order that my visit to London, a cesspool of sin and vice, qualified as world ending.”

Stephen snorted. “But what about the girls? Shouldn’t she be home riding herd on Juliana and Lucy?”

“Meg and John aren’t so besotted with their baby that they can’t see the girls don’t run amok—and anyway, the girls can look after themselves. Juliana just turned seventeen, you know. If she hadn’t singed her eyelashes off in the explosion after her last experiment, she might be making her come-out this Season.”

“Good God!” Little Juliana, here for the London Season? She
had
looked rather grown-up at Jack’s christening. He’d obviously been away from home too long.

“And of course, once Mama got to London and heard you were betrothed—and yes, she definitely has heard, but not from me—wild horses couldn’t drag her away from Town, you must know that.”

“Zeus.” Stephen looked longingly at the Madeira, but he couldn’t have any more. He was promised—he and Nick were promised—to Crane House. The twins would be expecting their outing. “When do you think they’ll be back?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t say.” Nick sat up and put his glass on the occasional table at his elbow. “But I suggest we leave promptly so we aren’t here when they do return.”

Evie was driving Anne to distraction. “Will you sit down and stop looking out the window? You’re worse than the boys.”

Anne was already on edge, thinking about seeing Stephen—Mr. Parker-Roth—again. What must he think of her? She’d behaved like a complete wanton last night. Worse, she was tempted to behave in exactly the same fashion today.

Evie flushed and sat down on the edge of her chair. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”

Anne glanced at the table clock which Evie could see as well as she. “It’s just five minutes past the hour.”

“They’re late.”

Anne put aside her sewing. She obviously wasn’t going to get any more work done. “When a gentleman says he will call at two o’clock, he doesn’t mean
precisely
two—as you well know.”

Evie picked an invisible speck of lint off her skirt. “Well, of course I know that. It’s just that your Mr. Parker-Roth struck me as very punctual.”

“You’ve only just met him; I don’t see how you can have formed an opinion of his habits.”

Evie shrugged. “He just seems very precise and capable. He must be, if he organizes all those expeditions, don’t you think?” She raised her gaze to meet Anne’s. “But you’ve known him for years—am I right?”

O what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.
Sir Walter Scott got that exactly right. “I, ah—”

Footsteps pounded down the stairs out in the hall accompanied by Harry’s manic barking and the boys shouting and whooping.

Evie sprang out of her chair and twitched back the curtain. “They’re here!”

Anne frowned. Evie was much too delighted by this outing. She grabbed her sister’s elbow before the girl could go dashing out to greet their visitors as enthusiastically as the twins. “Evie, you don’t want to give Mr. Nicholas Parker-Roth the wrong impression.”

Evie flushed. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do. You will make the man think you favor him too much.”

Evie turned a deeper red. “I
do
favor him.”

Good Lord! “You can’t. You’ve only just met him. And anyway, he’s too young. You’re too young.”

Evie’s jaw hardened. She was usually possessed of the sunniest of dispositions, but occasionally something would stir her passions and she would dig her heels in. This appeared to be one of those times.

Anne’s gut clenched. Surely Mr. Nicholas Parker-Roth had not stirred
those
passions?

“He is not too young,” Evie said, “nor am I. You were just my age when you met his brother, if you’ll recall.”

Damn! Why the
hell
had she said she’d met Stephen at Baron Gedding’s house party? She just did not have enough experience with lying. “But that’s different.”

“I don’t see how, except you wasted ten years of your life pining for your Mr. Parker-Roth. I do not intend to be so nonsensical.”

Anne heard the door open. Stephen and his brother must have entered the hall; Harry was barking as if he were possessed. She still had her hand on Evie’s elbow. She shook it to emphasize her point.

“Just be cautious, please? Men are very different from women. You can’t assume you know what they are thinking.” She’d certainly made some disastrous assumptions about Brentwood’s thoughts.

Evie pulled herself free. “I know that. I’m not a child, even though s
ome
people seem to think I am.” She gave Anne a speaking look before she pulled open the door and stepped into the entryway.

Anne closed her eyes briefly, her stomach twisting into a tight knot. She’d been just as certain she knew everything when she was Evie’s age. No one could tell her anything—and look where it had got her. She wouldn’t let that happen to Evie.

She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Really, the situations were not all that similar. Yes, Evie was young, but she had a good head on her shoulders, and she didn’t have any of the foolish anger Anne had had over the then-impending birth of the twins. And, most importantly, Evie had Anne by her side to keep a sharp eye on Mr. Nicholas Parker-Roth.

Stephen stuck his head into the sitting room, and she jumped. He laughed.

“Are you coming out of there, Anne? We’re getting ready to leave. The boys and Harry are quite eager to be off.”

“Oh.” She could barely get her breath. She was as silly as Evie; just seeing Stephen made her heart pound. “Where are we going?”

“To the Tower to see the Royal Menagerie. It’s a sad little collection of animals these days, but the boys said they don’t care. It won’t take long, and then we can take Harry for a romp in the park.”

“Ah. Yes.” Her heart wasn’t the only organ pounding. Did he remember their activities of last night as clearly as she did?

“I see you’re wearing another one of Celeste’s creations.” His eyes slid over the gold-toned walking dress as he stepped all the way into the room. He had a hat box in one hand. “Very nice.” He grinned. “But I still like the red dress better.”

“The red dress would be completely inappropriate for day wear, as you well know.” She eyed the box. She was too polite to ask what was in it, but she was sorely tempted.

His grin widened. “I’ve brought you something.” He handed her the box.

A present. She felt foolishly thrilled. “I’m sure you shouldn’t have.”

“I’m sure I should have. Go ahead, open it.”

She untied the strings and lifted off the top. Nestled inside was a bonnet trimmed with gold ribbon and bunches of forget-me-nots. She lifted it out and held it up. “Oh! It’s beautiful, and it goes perfectly with this dress.”

“It should. I asked Celeste which frock she’d send first.”

She’d never had a bonnet so lovely. Much as she might denigrate London hats, she was very taken with this one. However . . . “I can’t accept it.”

“Of course you can.”

“But—”

Stephen held up his hand. “You can. Come, you must admit I owe you a bonnet after I ground yours into the mud.” He took it from her and put it on her head, tying the ribbons under her chin. Then he turned her to look in the mirror. “See? This bonnet sets off your hair instead of hiding it.”

Anne stared at her reflection. The bonnet did look very nice. It framed her face and made her look almost elegant. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, we’d best be off—I imagine your brothers are getting impatient. Come along. The day’s warm. You won’t need a pelisse.”

They stepped into the hall, but it was already empty. Anne wasn’t surprised to see the boys and Harry gone, but Evie hadn’t waited for her, either.

Perhaps that wasn’t so surprising. Evie likely didn’t want another helping of unwanted advice from her older sister. “How are we going to get there? We can’t all cram into one carriage.”

Stephen opened the front door and she saw the answer. Two carriages stood in front of Crane House, one with the Earl of Kenderly’s coat of arms on its side. A footman stood by Stephen’s coach, holding Harry’s leash.

“Damian lent me his equipage—looks like everyone’s piled in there,” Stephen said, pulling the front door closed behind them.

Anne paused and frowned at the earl’s carriage. So much for keeping a close eye on Stephen’s brother. “I’m not certain—no, actually I am
quite
certain your brother and my sister should not be alone in a coach together.”

Stephen laughed. “They aren’t. Philip and George will prove to be more than adequate chaperones. If I remember correctly, ten-year-old boys are very observant and would be completely—and loudly—revolted if Nick attempted any kind of lovemaking.” He took her arm and led her over to his coach. “And see, they’ve left Harry to accompany us and ensure
my
animal instincts don’t get the better of me.”

This last he murmured by her ear as he helped her into the carriage, sending a shiver of . . . something through her. So he
did
remember last night’s activities. Her breasts and her, ah, nether region sprang to attention, letting her know in no uncertain terms they would thoroughly enjoy a repeat performance.

Stephen’s weren’t the only animal instincts threatening to lead her astray.

Harry followed her into the carriage while Stephen said a few words to his coachman. She wrapped her arms around the dog and buried her face in his neck. Perhaps if she held onto Harry, she wouldn’t attack Stephen when he got in.

She’d never have guessed she’d ever wish to engage in any activities that involved the lower portion of her person. Not after her distasteful experience with Brentwood. But Brentwood hadn’t done any of the things Stephen had. She hadn’t known her body could feel such sensations.

She was like a child with a new toy. She wanted to play with it all day.

Stephen finally climbed into the carriage and settled on the bench across from her. Their knees almost touched. Her treacherous body thrummed with delight.

He grinned at her, and then turned to open the carriage window.

She ordered her body to behave itself and her thoughts to focus on something other than Mr. Parker-Roth’s broad shoulders and talented hands. This was the perfect time to broach the issue of his brother and Evie.

She let go of Harry and sat up straighter. “Mr. Parker-Roth—”

He laughed. “Stephen, my love. After the intimacies we shared last night, such formality is rather ridiculous, don’t you agree? Especially in the privacy of my carriage.”

The coach jerked into motion. Harry, the traitor, leapt for the open window and stuck his head out. Stephen, the rogue, leapt for Harry’s place beside her.

She slid toward the carriage wall, but the bench was narrow and the scoundrel merely followed her. She could feel his hard thigh pressing along the whole length of hers. “Ah.” All thoughts of Evie and Nicholas scattered.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten all the lovely things we did in that sitting room yesterday evening?”

“Ah.” Was she such a complete idiot she couldn’t manage to formulate a coherent word?

He shook his head. “I’ll just have to remind you.” His hand brushed the side of her bodice.

“Eep!” It was as though current ran from his fingers to her nipples and the other small bit of flesh lower down that he’d discovered last night.

He frowned. “Is that a yes ‘eep’ or a no ‘eep’?”

Her heart was pounding—and her breasts and nether region were throbbing—so it was very difficult to think. Her mind—and her morals—told her to say a clear, loud, unmistakable “no,” but her body screamed “
yes!
”

“You can’t. I can’t, ah, arrive at the Tower looking all m-mussed. Everyone will know what we’ve been doing.”

“Ah, so that was a yes, but be careful ‘eep’.”

She gave a breathless little laugh. “You are absurd.”

“But correct, hmm?” He reached down and lifted her skirt to her knees. “I blush to say it, but I have had enough experience to know how to manage things without leaving any wrinkles or other evidence for suspicious gossips to detect.”

His hand was caressing her left calf, sliding up her leg, rubbing, playing.

“I-I had intended to discuss your brother’s interest in my sister,” she said. He was stroking her knee now.