The Duke's Night of Sin by Kathryn Caskie

Author:Kathryn Caskie [Caskie, Kathryn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Historical Romance
Published: 2010-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Diligence overcomes all difficulties, sloth makes them.

Benjamin Franklin

Siusan cringed the moment Lord Wentworth fell motionless atop her. How addlepated she was! In the throes of their passionate exchange, she had completely forgotten about his injury. He was hurt, and perhaps even dying for all she knew. Tears budded in her eyes.Aye, he had seemed fully recovered. Strong. Willful. But he had received a substantial blow to his head, one hard enough to render him senseless. He had not bled, so far as she could tell in the darkness with only her fingertips to assess the seriousness of his injury, but a bump the size of quail’s egg had risen just below his hairline. And, quite obviously, it was painful to the touch.

“I know you,” he said weakly.

“I-I beg your pardon. What did you say?” Her words sounded too loud, so completely out of place in the intimacy of the previous moment. She decided to say nothing more. Instead, she looped her hands under his arms and carefully guided him higher as he moved toward her face. She listened for his breath.

His raised his head from her chest and held the position for some moments, and she knew he was looking at her intently, though he did not say a word. She gently placed her hands on the sides of his cheeks, angling his chin down so that she might kiss his forehead softly, just beside the bump. Calming. Soothing.

Again, she felt his chin lift. Felt his eyes burning down upon her even in the cold black of night.

“I know you.” His voice was deep and husky, strained. Still unsure.

“Aye, you do.” Confusion clouded Siusan’s mind. He seemed to have recovered after the carriage crash, and yet something was very, very wrong.

“Though … I do not know your name.” He leaned his face closer and nipped at her bottom lip.

Lack of her name didn’t seem to reduce his passion. Now. However, she was sure something was dreadfully wrong. Siusan pressed up on his shoulder, straightening her arms like braces. A flood of icy air flowed between then, stinging the moistness between her spread thighs. “Aye, you do know me, my lord, but my name is unknown to you? Can you not remember?” Her temples throbbed with concern. Dear God.

“I remember you. I remember everything about you.” She heard him swallow. Was he beginning to realize the inconsistency too? “I remember everything, except your name. Though, I never knew it, did I?”

Were it light, he would have seen Siusan’s eyes widen in shock until they stung. She wasn’t sure if he was being nonsensical, or if somehow he had learned that in truth her name was not Miss Bonnet.

Gooseflesh prickled his skin, and he began to shiver violently. Siusan bent her arms and drew him back to her, nestling him against her skin and tightening the blankets around them both.

The moment he was pressed to her, it was as though nothing had changed. He began kissing her throat, and he wedged a hand beneath her in the small of her back.

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