An Improper Aristocrat by Deb Marlowe

Author:Deb Marlowe
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: 0
Published: 2007-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Trey had drifted off under the ministrations of Chione’s clever fingers. He awoke some time later to find her gone back over to the other bench, Ferguson’s niece huddled there with her, and the carriage stopped for another change of horses.

Purposefully not meeting Chione’s eye, he scrambled out of the carriage, circled around the back, then stood there in the cold morning air, scrubbing his hands over his face and cursing himself for a fool.

He winced when the driver came up from behind and gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘Sleep tight, my lord?’ he asked with a wink. ‘Or did ye take advantage of the dark as I did with wee Jenny?’

‘Should have done,’ muttered Trey.

But the driver looked suddenly chagrined. ‘My apologies, sir. I didn’t mean no disrespect to Miss Chione.’ He straightened. ‘Nor to my Jenny. T’was naught but a kiss or two we shared, and my intents is honourable.’ He grinned. ‘Mrs F. would be having my hide, otherwise. And ’tis clear that neither of them is that sort o’ girl, iff’n ye knows what I mean.’ He ended with a broad grin and sauntered off to check the traces.

Trey watched the man go and envied him his certainty. The only thing Trey could be certain of was his own idiocy. And perhaps of the fact that somewhere buried under Chione Latimer’s calm and competent exterior, there did lurk that sort of girl. Exactly the sort of girl to set his blood afire and make him forget all the principles that had governed all of his adult, blessedly unfettered life.

After a nod from the driver he climbed up on to the box, took up the ribbons and eased the fresh horses from the crowded inn courtyard. Once they had left the town behind he let them go and found his thoughts straying right back where they didn’t belong: on the ever-more-prickly problem of Chione Latimer.

Yes, he’d long suspected that a well of passion existed underneath her tranquil exterior. He’d enjoyed teasing her occasionally, pricking her temper, rousing her to a spirited debate. But, good God, he’d never imagined she might gift him with such an uninhibited response, and he’d been shocked at the tower of answering passion her hunger had unleashed in him. He’d sprouted a hammer between his legs, iron hard and clamoring for her grip. Hell, he’d been so lost that he’d almost taken her right there against the door.

Unintentionally, his hands tightened on the ribbons. One of the horses threw up his head in protest and Trey forced himself to ease up. Madness. Outright idiocy. What else could one call it? Ravaging an innocent girl on English soil ranked right up there with the stupidest and most perilous things he’d ever done. And not just any girl, but one caught up in exactly the sort of tangled web of relationships that he abhorred.

By God, he should be grateful that those thugs had been lying in wait. Had it been Cedric who

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