Sinfully Yours (Hellions of High Street 2)

Light steps drew him from his brooding. He recognized Anna’s tread. Damnation, a great many things about her were imprinted on his consciousness—the softness of her skin, the sweetness of her mouth, the lilt of her laughter.

“Devlin?”

He reached out and caught her arm. “Shhhh.”

She gave a little start but didn’t make a sound as he yanked her into the gloom.

“It’s not safe to talk here,” Devlin whispered. “Follow me.” Keeping hold of her hand, he ducked into a narrow passageway that led to the oldest part of the castle.

“I’ve been this way before, the night I followed you into the depths of the old wing. You entered a room with a heavy door, but I dared not follow. What were you doing there?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” It was pitch black within the rough stone walls but he didn’t wish to light a candle. “Watch your step,” he warned. “There are several sharp twists and a set of stairs up ahead, so be careful not to trip on your skirts.”

Her answer sounded suspiciously like a snort.

Come to think of it, there was something odd about the swishing of fabric around her legs. Or lack of it.

He stopped abruptly and ran a hand over her derriere. “What in the name of Hades are you wearing?” Not that he objected. The feel of her body unencumbered by yards of silk and lace was rather lovely.

“Breeches,” answered Anna. “You have no idea how much easier it is to move quickly. It’s most unfair of you men to keep them to yourselves.”

Devlin let his palm linger on the curve of her bum. “I’m all in favor of creating a new fashion for ladies.”

She shuffled her feet, sending a frisson of heat up his arm. Ye gods, her lower legs must look divine in stockings.

“Um, shouldn’t we keep going?” she murmured.

“Right.” This was no time for erotic fantasies. Shoving aside his impure thoughts, he hurried through the last stretch of darkness and came to an ancient, iron-banded door.

Easing it open, he struck a flint to the pair of oil lanterns hanging just inside the entrance.

“Good Lord,” intoned Anna, as the flames flared to life, casting a weak illumination over the front part of the cavernous room.

He shut the door and shot the bolt into place. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

She moved through the circle of light to inspect a near life-size carved wood tiger with a hapless human trapped between its giant paws.

“McClellan would take great pleasure in this piece,” said Devlin dryly. “The beast is about to devour an Englishman.” He joined her by the automaton and reached out to flick a small brass lever.

The tiger began to grunt and growl as the man flapped a hand and made a wailing noise.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened and then she let out a laugh. “Wherever did it come from?”

“India,” he replied. “It’s called Tipu’s Tiger and was made around a quarter century ago for Tipu Sultan, the ruler of the kingdom of Mysore. He hated the East India Company and the control it wielded over the native dominions.”

“So it would seem,” murmured Anna.

“The East India Company army found it when they captured the sultan’s summer palace during the first Mahratta War. The Governor General sent it to London, where it was put on public exhibit at East India House.” Devlin ran a hand over the painted head. “I had heard it was sold to a private collector, but hadn’t realized that Lord Dunbar was the purchaser until I arrived here.”

She glanced around, noting a number of other elaborate creations half shrouded in the shadows. “What other creations are secreted here?”

“A good many fascinating things.” He unhooked one of the lanterns from its wall bracket. “Come, let me show you a few of my favorites.”

Bypassing a massive chiming clock in the form of a brass peacock, Devlin drew her deeper into the gallery. “Here is a marvelous English mechanical model from the last century,” he explained, stopping in front of a silver swan set on a shimmering stretch of glass rods. “Its workings are impressively complex—just watch.” He wound the clockwork key, and a music box started to play as the glass rods began to rotate, giving the illusion of moving water. Little silver fish appeared within the rods as the swan moved its neck and preened. A moment later it appeared to notice the fish and bent down to catch one in its beak.

“Amazing,” exclaimed Anna.

He smiled, glad that she found the automata as fascinating as he did.