The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London Book 3) by Adele Clee

Author:Adele Clee [Clee, Adele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Adele Clee
Published: 2018-01-20T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The sound of their ragged breathing filled the room. Lillian lay naked, delicious tingles still coursing through her body. Fabian lay beside her, one leg draped over her thigh, one arm resting heavily across her stomach. An inner calm filled her chest. One that spoke of more than physical satisfaction. Fabian had kept his promise. In that one blissful moment, she had indeed felt free.

“The next time we explore the realms of intimate relations, I hope to dedicate more time to enhancing your pleasure.” Fabian’s husky voice caressed her senses. He came up on his elbow, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What do you say? Would you care to put my skill to the test?”

“What, now?” Although a warm shiver raced down her spine at the prospect, she had promised to tell him the truth about Lord Martin. The longer she delayed, the more daunting the task.

“Not right now.” He placed the tip of his finger on her chin and traced a slow, sensual line all the way down to her navel. The mischievous glint in his eyes simmered to a heated smoulder. “We have time for a drink, and I need to stoke the fire.”

Part of her wanted to indulge him. When they were alone, when he kissed her, she forgot anyone or anything else existed.

“And I do need to thank you for saving my life,” he added. “I trust you meant to blow the blade out of Aubrey’s hand.”

“Aubrey? Is that his name?”

“Apparently so.”

“Somehow, he doesn’t seem so terrifying now.”

“You appeared quite calm when you pulled the trigger. Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“Vane insisted I take lessons.” Oh, how she wished she’d had the skill to fight a duel with Lord Martin. She would have hit him between the legs to prevent him from taking another woman for a fool.

“Then for once, I owe your brother my gratitude.”

“What did you do with him?”

Fabian frowned. “With whom? Vane?”

“No, the man with the pockmarked face.” He didn’t deserve to be called by his name.

“He’s in the dungeon for the time being. Mackenzie is looking after him.” Fabian fell silent, though she could feel his gaze drifting over her breasts before lingering on her locket. “Must you wear the necklace to bed?”

The question shocked her. It would be easy to lie. But she’d reached the point in her life where nothing but the truth would do. “As long as I live, I shall never take it off.”

“I see.” Suspicion lingered within those two simple words. “I suppose it is too much to hope that you carry your mother’s portrait.”

“While I loved my mother, it is not her likeness I hold dear.”

A sigh left his lips. “While it pains me to ask, did you develop an attachment to Lord Martin?”

One did not need the wisdom of Socrates to know what he was really asking. Had she married him despite loving someone else? “No. While I carried a mild affection for him, one I believed might blossom into something more, I did not love him.

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