Fighting the urge to run into his embrace, Priscilla continued to stare out of the window. The smile on her lips stretched wide as she anticipated strong arms sliding around her waist, the feel of his arousal pressed against her buttocks.
God, her throat grew tight.
The light padding of steps towards her made her heart beat so fast she could barely catch her breath. Soon … soon she would feel his hot lips against her neck.
With her mind lost in a heady cloud of desire, she closed her eyes and inhaled. Matthew’s unique scent always found a way to seep into her skin, to awaken every fibre of her being, to—
Her eyes flew open.
The smell of stale tobacco, a rank whiff of liquor, the fusty scent of days-old sweat clawed at her nostrils and bombarded her senses.
Panic flared.
She clutched her hands to her chest to stop her body shaking. Amidst the warm glow of candlelight, she saw him then, caught a fleeting glimpse reflected in the glass. His round face and swollen cheeks reminded her of a squirrel carrying food for winter. While Matthew was muscular yet lean, this man’s rotund physique filled her frame of vision.
Every second spent thinking brought him closer.
Had he honest intentions in mind, he would have coughed to gain her attention, introduced himself for fear of startling her. There was little point knocking the window. The guests were engaged in their usual antics, and would never hear the rapping above their grunts and groans.
With no other choice left open, Priscilla swung around.
It took a moment for her mind to confirm the gentleman’s identity. “Mr Mullworth,” she said feigning the confidence of a duchess. “What on earth are you doing in my private chamber? Are you lost? Did Mr Chandler give you permission to enter his room?”
One after another, the questions tumbled out of her mouth. Talking settled her nerves.
“There is no need to be coy, my dear. Miss Pearce gave me your note.” Mullworth stepped closer. “You said to come through the master suite to avoid detection.”
Heaven help her. What was she to do?
“I’m surprised you managed to sneak past the footman.”
“Miss Pearce created a little diversion.” Mullworth’s greedy gaze fell to the jewelled brooch on her bodice. The tip of his tongue moistened the seam of his lips. “Of course, the woman has her own agenda. I’m sure you’re aware of her obsession with your husband. But let’s not talk about that now. Time is of the essence.”
As Mullworth took another step, Priscilla knew she had to move away from the window if she had any hope of escaping.
“If you have come here expecting something from me, then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed.” Taking a few discreet sidesteps for fear of him pouncing, she shuffled into the middle of the room. “Surely after witnessing the way I danced with my husband, you must know there has been a mistake. Is it not obvious I am in love with him?”
Mullworth’s frown was quickly replaced with a sly grin. “As your note said, that is the game you play to make the gentlemen try harder to win your affection.”
Good Lord, with her talent for deception, Miss Pearce should work for the Crown.
Priscilla edged closer to the door. “Miss Pearce is the one playing games, sir. She will use any tactic necessary to get my husband’s attention.”
“What are you saying?” Mullworth’s fleshy jowls wobbled.
“There has been a misunderstanding. I will never engage in any activity unless it’s with my husband.”
A moment of silence ensued while the gentleman scrutinised her face.
“Ah, I understand,” he said, his straggly eyebrows wiggling up and down. “You wish for the three of us to partake in a liaison together. I mean it’s not what I’m used to, and I’m not sure what Chandler will—”
“For heaven’s sake, no! Does anyone in this house possess a rational mind?” Priscilla sucked in a breath and thrust her arm out towards the door. “I suggest you leave, sir, before my husband finds you in here and blows a hole in the middle of your forehead.”
Surely the thought of a dawn appointment would make the man reconsider his position. But no. The faint chime of the grandfather clock in the hall sent the man into a mild panic.
With hands flapping, Mullworth closed the gap between them. “Come on now. You’re married to Chandler. A little wild sport with the guests is expected.”
“How many times must I tell you? I shall sleep with no man other than my husband.”