The Mystery of Mr Daventry (Scandalous Sons 4)

Watching every sleek movement proved highly arousing.

He gripped the headrest with his left hand, angled his hips so that with every delicious slide he rubbed against her sex.

“Look at me, Sybil,” he breathed, opening his eyes. “Forgive me if this hurts.”

She stared into eyes that to some might look plain grey—a shade reminiscent of steel, cold and hard. But they conveyed so much more. The black rims circling his irises embodied the dark, dangerous nature of his character. The flecks of bright blue were as warm and inviting as summer skies and rippling seas.

They were so mesmerising she forgot he was about to push past her maidenhead. He did so with one hard thrust. The slight stinging passed. It took but a few seconds to grow accustomed to the feel of being full, full with Lucius Daventry.

And then he began the teasing thrusts that had her panting and crying his name. Then he began to show her exactly how to love him.

Chapter Fifteen

Ravenous, Lucius devoured his breakfast with a little less fervency than he had Sybil’s delectable body. They had made love for a second time in his bed. Might have made love a third had he not carried her to the adjoining chamber and insisted she sleep.

He had slept for two hours before rising refreshed and ready to tackle his mountain of problems. Anyone witnessing his permanent grin would believe he didn’t have a care in the world. Indeed, his men had traded more than a few odd glances, traded more than a few curious questions.

What had happened to drag their master from his dreadful mood? Wasn’t it still raining? Wasn’t the carriage still stuck half a mile from Bronygarth? Had he finally turned to the bottle to forget his terrible troubles?

Lucius was still grinning as he sipped his coffee, still grinning when the object of his desire strode into the room, bid him good morning and told him to remain seated.

Erotic visions danced in his mind as he scanned her simple green day dress. She had tied her hair back loosely with blue ribbon, but he remembered unruly copper curls spread over his pillow.

He expected to see embarrassment stain her cheeks, thought she might avoid him while coming to terms with all that had occurred last night. Maybe had regrets.

He was wrong.

“Is that your first helping?” She came around the table, touched his shoulder affectionately and stepped to move past him.

Lucius captured her wrist, drew her close, meant to press a chaste kiss to her lips, but it turned into a lustful melding of mouths, a wild tangling of tongues. He had to break contact before he dragged her onto his lap and let his men see precisely what had caused the shift in his mood.

“The bacon tastes delicious.” She licked her lips and moved to examine the platters.

“Let me serve your breakfast.”

He pushed out of the chair and met her at the sideboard. What should have been a simple gesture ended in another stolen kiss that might have had them rushing upstairs had they not heard Tomas whistling a country tune.

Sybil placed her palm on his chest. “You wash my feet, serve me breakfast, make love to me with such skill, is there anything you don’t do, Mr Daventry?”

“Not where you’re concerned, Miss Atwood,” he replied, stepping back just as Tomas entered carrying fresh poached eggs.

Jonah arrived to serve Sybil breakfast, and with her approval, Lucius invited both men to sit at the table to discuss what had occurred at the Black Swan.

Before getting to the matter of the coaching inn, Jonah said, “There’s something else you should know, sir.” He paused and cast Sybil a surreptitious glance, continued only when Lucius gave a curt nod. “Samuel said he saw someone in the garden last night. A floating figure. A ghost.”

“A ghost?” Tomas snorted. “The guzzle-guts downed brandy like it was catlap. Happen he saw fairies dancin’ on the lake, too.”

Jonah’s expression remained grave. “When I questioned him, he said he’d gone outside to hurl, said he saw the figure near the lake, said he heard the rattling of chains.”

“Good God!” Lucius’ pulse raced. “Have you checked the door leading down to the vault?”

Jonah’s reassuring nod brought some relief. “The gate’s locked. Everything’s in order. Everything’s secure.”

“I think it’s fair to assume we had a trespasser, not a damn ghost.” Lucius scrubbed his hand over his face. The devil was getting too close for comfort. “Forget any household tasks. Make watching the vault a priority. Keep a weapon and patrol regularly.”

Jonah nodded.

“And did you learn anything at the Black Swan?” Sybil said.