Taffeta & Hotspur

“Oh no, my lady. He said he would show himself in … and I am sorry, I never heard him leave.”

“Oh, very well then, thank you.” She smiled to herself as she hurried upstairs to wash and change and think of the rakehell Hotspur in the privacy of her bedroom.

Chapter Ten

Lord Tarrant returned home only to find a note from Sidmouth that required his immediate attention.

His services were needed, and there was no time to loose. He hurriedly jotted down a note for Taffeta.

Dearest little love,

Business has called me away for a few days, but know this. I shall miss you with all my heart and await the moment I can be with you again.

Miss me.

Yours,

Thurston.

He put the sealed note into a lackey’s hand and sent it off, comfortable in the belief she would smile when she read it, comfortable he would return and officially make her his own.

In the meantime, he scarcely had time to throw water on himself, change his clothes, throw some clothing in a portmanteau, and call for his coach. Documents in his possession now had to be delivered as planned.

As he left the city, his thoughts were not on Wellington, Napoleon, or the fate of his beloved Albion, but of his wild, unprincipled, unruly, completely mischievous, and precious love, Taffeta. He adored her with every beat of his heart and wanted her just as she was.

He had not been certain she was a virgin, because she was so unreserved, so passionate, so willing… But egad, when he found she was, his heart swelled with absurd pride, and a sudden desire to scoop her up, take her home, and declare to the world she was his woman—his. It had nearly overtaken his good sense.

Well, that was something he was going to do very shortly, and as soon as he got back. And he didn’t want a long engagement either. He wanted her in his bed, in his house—running his life with her smiles and her laughter and her wildness… Damn, but he loved her.

He had not told her yet—wait, she had not told him.

She must love him. He couldn’t bear it if she didn’t love him. She did … she must. She could not have given herself with such abandon had she not—could she?

Hell and damnation! He could not get back to her soon enough.

~*~

Lord Bruton was met at the door by Jarvis and told Lady Taffeta was above stairs.

“I’ll wait.” he said.

“She asked not to be interrupted…” said Jarvis with a frown.

“And still, I will wait. Perhaps you can slip my card under her door and tell her I am here to take her for a ride through the park if she would like.”

Jarvis sighed and started for the stairs. Bruton looked at the silver salver on the center round table and saw there Lord Tarrant’s seal. It was a note addressed to Lady Taffeta.

He waited for Jarvis to get just out of view and hurriedly sna

tched it up and immediately slipped it into his pocket. At his back and just at that moment, the door opened to admit both Nigel and the lady’s brother.

They saw him and stopped short. He couldn’t know if they had seen him take the note from the salver. He assumed not for they were just the types to challenge him for it.

The young duke said curtly, “Bruton … my aunt is away, and my sister is not receiving male visitors in her absence.”

Bruton nodded and said aloofly, “Of course, I merely thought to take Lady Taffeta out for a ride in Hyde Park.”

“She can’t go. She is promised to us for the day.”