Taken by the Earl (Regency Unlaced 3) (6 page)

She was becoming wet between her thighs again merely thinking about it.

Last night and this morning, Fliss had found Sin’s height and breadth overwhelming, his lovemaking bone-melting, but he had not seemed the untamed Highlander Society had speculated about. Here in the garden, in the clear light of day, Fliss had reason to change her mind. Beneath the earl’s air of urbanity and the perfectly tailored clothes, she sensed a wildness, something feral, trying to escape. It was a little like spending time with a caged animal, knowing that at any second it could bend those bars around it as if they were made of butter, allowing all that wildness to break free.

Fliss had never been so aware of a man or the danger he represented to her own respectability.
 

“You know you were.” Fliss lifted her parasol and snapped it open overhead. Primarily to keep the sun off her face, but also to conceal the permanent blush she had on her cheeks whenever she was in this man’s company.

She had agreed to meet Sin for this stroll about the garden only as a way of getting him to leave her bedchamber earlier, something he had absolutely refused to do without first making plans for the two of them to meet up again.

Ringing for Mary’s return and going through the ritual of her morning bath had been excruciating for Fliss. Mary had been with her for years, even before Fliss’s marriage, and she knew her maid had never seen a gentleman in her mistress’s bedchamber before today, not even Stephen.

“Perhaps,” Sin drawled, well aware of Fliss’s embarrassment over what had happened earlier.

As for his own physical discomfort…

A discomfort added to by watching Fliss between narrowed lashes as she walked beside him. Seeing the way the tops of her breasts were revealed by the low neckline of her gown. Knowing the hidden nipples would still be swollen and red from his ministrations earlier.

If his cock did not find some relief, and soon, then Sin knew he was in danger of coming inside his pantaloons. And he would much rather see those ruby-red lips wrapped around his cock when he came, and his sac being caressed and squeezed by those tiny hands.

“Shall we explore the maze?” Sin growled, barely able to restrain his need for physical release.

Fliss shot him an uncertain glance, her cheeks blushing anew as she saw the way in which Sin’s gaze smoldered down at her. Instinctively, she knew his suggestion had very little to do with exploring the historical maze in Lady Eckles’s garden. It was more likely to be an invitation for her to explore
him
.

Just the thought of it made her heart pound, her palms dampen inside her gloves, and caused that wetness to increase between her thighs.

“If I might have a word, my lord?”

Fliss had been so lost in her emotions that she had not heard or seen the approach of one of Lady Eckles’s handsome footmen. Young men with whom, it was rumored, that lady amused herself whenever she was here in Kent.

“Yes?” Sin scowled his displeasure at the interruption.

“One of her ladyship’s grooms has reported your stallion is unwell, my lord,” the footman related politely.

Sin’s frown darkened. “Why did my own groom not come and tell me as much?”

“It seems he is also unwell, my lord.”

Sin glanced at the woman beside him, remembering her dire warnings yesterday evening and wondering if this sudden illness of both his groom and horse could merely be coincidental.

Except Sin did not believe in coincidences.

Chapter 6

Fliss followed Sin as he strode across the lawn toward the stables at the back of the house, determined he should not leave her behind. There was something decidedly odd about both his horse and groom becoming ill at the same time, and she knew from the look she and Sin had exchanged a few minutes ago, he thought the same.

She sincerely hoped that neither man nor beast were in serious ill health, but perhaps now Sin would at least believe her warnings that someone here meant to harm him. Quite what his assassin hoped to achieve by deliberately making Sin’s groom and horse ill—perhaps by the administration of poison?—Fliss could not imagine.

Except the earl was unlikely to leave Eckles Manor, as Fliss had urged him to do last night, whilst his horse and groom were ill.

She hurried to catch up with Sin as he entered the busy cobbled stable yard, where several grooms carried water and feed to the horses in the many stalls. “My lord.” She rested her gloved fingers on his forearm. “Do you think it possible poison was involved—”

“We will not discuss this now, Fliss,” he cut her off tersely.

“But—”

“I said not now.” He came to a halt as he turned to face her, eyes narrowed in warning. “Nor is this the place for you.” He looked down pointedly at the dirt-strewn cobblestones. “I will come to your bedchamber once I have ascertained the cause of this…illness, and we will discuss the matter further then.”

Fliss’s cheeks warmed at the knowledge several of the grooms in the yard could not have helped but overhear the earl talk so casually of visiting her bedchamber. As if he did it all the time. Which, considering Fliss’s visit to his bedchamber the night before and his own to hers this morning, would be difficult to deny. Even so, she did not take kindly to being dismissed in such a manner.

“Very well, my lord.” She gave a stiff inclination of her head. “I am in need of refreshment after our walk in any case, and have yet to meet the Eckles’s other guests.”

“Fliss.” Sin reached out and captured her arm to prevent her from leaving. “Perhaps we might meet them together later?” He gave her a pointed frown.

She raised haughty brows. “I am in need of refreshment now, not later.”

Sin was not a man given to violence, despite his size possibly implying otherwise. But Mrs. Felicity Randall was well on her way to receiving physical retribution from him if she did not heed his unspoken warning. He had made it more than clear he did not wish her to deliberately put herself amongst Maria Eckles’s unscrupulous guests. A lamb amongst wolves. One of which might be the wolf after Sin’s throat.

He freely admitted to having been skeptical in regard to Fliss’s tale of plots and assassins. But his horse, Dante, had been in perfect health when they arrived at Eckles Manor two days ago, and again when Sin had taken him out for a ride yesterday morning. It seemed suspect that his groom was also suddenly taken ill.

Sin had persuaded Fliss to remain at Eckles Manor more with seduction in his mind rather than seeking out nameless, faceless assassins. But if there was a genuine threat to his life, he could not allow Fliss to put herself in danger by attempting to pursue the assassin alone. “You will wait until I am free to join you.” His tone brooked no argument.

She blinked, a rebellious glitter appearing in those dark gray eyes, informing Sin that for all her demur demeanor, this was not a lady accustomed to being ordered about by any man. Least of all him.

Her reply confirmed it. “Then let us hope you have finished your business out here by the time I come downstairs after returning my bonnet and parasol to my room.”

Sin frowned at her stubbornness. “Your husband should have taken a riding crop to your backside when he had the chance,” he muttered so that only she could hear.

Fliss gave him an unconcerned smile. “Stephen was far too much of a gentleman to ever raise a hand—or riding crop—to a lady.”

Implying that he was not, Sin acknowledged with inner frustration.

Sin had made discreet enquiries before joining Fliss for a walk in the garden and now knew exactly who her husband had been. Sin had never met Major Stephen Randall, but he knew of the gentleman. Not only was Major Randall a man not much older than Sin—making a nonsense of his earlier assumption her husband had been aged and incapable of satisfying her physically—but the other man had excelled himself in Wellington’s army before being struck down at Waterloo. A war hero
and
a gentleman.

Sin did not consider himself to be either.

Oh, he had served, as had so many other Scottish men, but in the navy as a captain, rather than the army. Unfortunately, he had been washed overboard in the heat of battle before being taken prisoner aboard a French vessel.

He spent the next year as a prisoner of the French, then finally managed a successful escape and made his way back to England. Admittedly, he had brought back vital information toward the war effort, and had afterward served as an agent for the Crown until Napoleon was safely incarcerated on St. Helena. But he was not the public hero Major Stephen Randall had been.

Sin bared his teeth in a humorless grin. “Unluckily for you, I have no such qualms.”

Fliss eyed him uncertainly, unsure whether or not he was in earnest with his threat. The unwavering green gaze staring back into her own confirmed that he was.

She stood as tall as her much shorter height would allow. “You are every inch the barbarian you are reputed to be, sir.”

“I am,” he confirmed without apology.

Fliss lingered only a few seconds more before turning sharply on her slippered heel and returning to the house at a brisk pace.
 

“Ah, Mrs. Randall, I had been wondering where you had got to.” Her hostess stood in the doorway of the breakfast room, where it seemed, from the noise of chatter inside the room, a number of the other guests had gathered. “Do come and join us.”

Despite what she had said, Fliss had fully intended to sit in her bedchamber and wait for Sin’s return. Not because he had ordered her to, but because the people who accepted Lady Eckles’s hospitality were not the type she would normally associate with.

But it would seem a little churlish on her part to refuse Maria Eckles’s invitation, considering Fliss was the one who had inveigled herself here in the first place.

“I breakfasted in my room earlier, but a cup of tea would be most welcome.” She gave the other woman a polite smile as, instead of going to her bedchamber, Fliss now handed the butler her bonnet and parasol before crossing the entrance hall to join the older woman.

“I cannot tell you what a delightful surprise it was when you expressed an interest in attending our little house party.” Maria linked her arm companionably through Fliss’s as the two women entered the breakfast room together. “But I perfectly understand the reason for it now.” She gave Fliss a conspiratorial smile.

Fliss’s mind went a complete blank for several long seconds until she realized that Maria Eckles obviously knew of the time Fliss had spent in Sin Montgomery’s company. All of it? Including the time Fliss had spent in his bedchamber the previous evening? As Fliss looked up into those shrewd blue eyes, she realized that not much escaped Maria Eckles’s notice.

“It is always nice to spend time in the country,” Fliss answered her noncommittally, already searching the room for any gentleman with a familiar head of blond hair.

Unfortunately there were several gentlemen seated or standing about the breakfast room who fitted that description. She did not know all the gentlemen, but she recognized the faces of Lord Adam Sterling, Mr. Archibald Greaves, and Lord Samuel Waverly as the three talked together near the window. There were also two other fair-haired gentlemen sitting at the table whom Fliss did not know.

She had not thought it would be as difficult as this to identify the gentleman from the evening in the Woodrows’ library.

Sin could not remember the last time he had felt as angry as he did now.

His groom was stricken down with severe abdominal pains.

Dante was similarly afflicted.

Sin had no idea when or if either of them would recover.

Now he had returned to the house to find Fliss comfortably ensconced in the breakfast room and surrounded by a veritable crowd of admiring gentlemen. Completely contrary to his instructions.

“I fear you have competition for Mrs. Randall’s…affections, my lord.”

Sin turned his narrowed gaze on his hostess. “You are mistaken, madam.”

“I do not think so.” A maliciously amused smile curved Lady Eckles’s painted lips as she gave a pointed glance across the room to where a crowd of gentlemen were gathered about the chaise near the window, Felicity Randall at its center.

“I was referring to the fact that it is not done to discuss a lady with a third party,” Sin bit out coldly.

“Especially when one is bedding that lady?” his hostess mocked.

Sin’s jaw tightened. “If you will excuse me.” He gave a stiff bow before striding across the room.

Fliss sensed Sin’s presence before she saw him, a sensation of being watched causing a frisson of awareness to travel the length of her spine. It caused her to break off her conversation with Archibald Greaves and turn to look in the direction from which that sensation originated.

She drew her breath in sharply as she saw Sin bearing down on them, green eyes ablaze with his displeasure.

“If you will excuse us, gentlemen.” Sin reached down to grasp her arm and pull her to her feet before marching back across the room, Fliss anchored to his side.

“You are making a spectacle of us both,” Fliss hissed.

“No,
you
were making a spectacle of yourself.” He did not so much as glance at her as he strode across the room and began to ascend the wide staircase leading to the floor above.