To Marry a Marchioness by Tamara Gill

Author:Tamara Gill [Gill, Tamara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-11T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

After a quiet dinner, Henrietta retired to her room, and after a long, hot bath, Henrietta dismissed her maid and prepared herself for bed. She sat at her dressing table, brushing her hair, and wondered when Lord Zetland would leave. Tomorrow they were due to look over the crops to the north, and then return via the estate’s flour mill. It was the last of the estate and the working farm that he’d not seen. After that, he would know exactly what he’d inherited, how it worked, who worked it, and what he earned from it each year.

With winter getting closer each day, he would probably leave within the week, and then her dalliance with him would be over.

She threw her hairbrush onto the table and started when her bedroom door opened and Lord Zetland entered quickly, locking the door behind him.

She met his reflection in the mirror and her stomach twisted into knots at the hunger in his eyes. How was it that he could look at a woman so, and even without words, tell her she was wanted, what he would do.

She licked her lips at the thought of having him in her bed, the delicious slide of his body against hers that she would miss terribly when he left.

“Bold, my lord. I did not know we had planned to be together this evening,” she said, raising her brow.

He did not move, simply leaned against the door, a Scottish warrior out of a history book. And one she wanted to conquer.

“I came to wish you a good night, nothing more, lass.”

She twisted on her dressing table chair, pulling the shawl about her shoulders. “Really? Merely a goodnight.”

He pushed away from the door, and the muscles on his thighs caught her attention with each step he made. The buckskin breeches were really a very helpful article of clothing with being tight and allowing others to view all the assets that lay beneath.

He stopped before her, glancing down. “I’ve had ye today, lass. I’m not a beast. I will not push myself onto ye yet again.”

Unable to resist, Henrietta reached out and laid her hand against his hip. He was so warm beneath her touch. Running her finger down the side seam of his breeches, she let her hand drop when she reached his knee. He stilled under her touch. He may say he would not have her again, but he did want her, and that truth filled her with a heady amount of control.

She stood, reaching up to wrap her hands about his neck. She kissed him, slow and deep, flicking out her tongue to mesh with his, and sighed when he gave way to his desire and wrenched her fully against him.

She went willingly, but slowly and deliberately pulled back before stepping out of his hold. “We have a big day tomorrow, my lord. You should probably get a good night’s rest.”

He studied her a moment and then nodded, willing to do as she bid, no matter that his breathing was as ragged as her own.

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