At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

A brief shaft of moonlight cut through the trees to illuminate the woman’s face. Lady Lovell stood in her silk wrapper, her arms folded across her chest.

“The blasted chit is so headstrong, so steadfast,” Randall complained. “If she’d let me get within an inch of her, I’m confident I could change her mind.”

Miles swallowed a growl. If he got within an inch of the bastard …

“Bed her and wed her. What is so damn difficult about that?” Lady Lovell prodded Randall in the chest. “I want out of that house, do you hear? You promised me we’d travel to Verona and Rome. You promised me I would not have to spend another month living with a man who has the strength and courage of a bloody snail.”

“Don’t curse, dearest, it is unbecoming.”

“What would you have me do? What if she tells Cecil what happened?”

Randall gave an arrogant snort. “Oh, the fool is easy to manipulate. We’ll suggest Miss Lovell is mildly deranged. One has to be suffering from some sort of mental deficiency to spend their days slumming about the countryside.”

Lady Lovell’s countenance suddenly brightened. “Oh, we could threaten to have her dragged off to the nearest asylum for birdbrained females.” She placed her hand on Randall’s chest. “I want her money, Randall, do you hear? It’s the only hope we have of living abroad together.”

“Rest assured. I shall have command of her inheritance, at least whatever portion I can. When it comes to seduction, I shall be more persuasive next time.”

Miles shrank back behind the tree. It took all the strength he possessed to remain hidden. He imagined charging out into the night, fist raised, screaming a battle cry. Oh, he would soon put an end to their mischief. God, he’d make them pay for their spite and greed. But they had underestimated their opponent. It would take more than a devious plan to bring Miss Lovell to her knees.

Heat filled Miles’ chest. His love for the woman who lay in his bed burned ferociously. Perhaps this sordid discovery would sway Lord Lovell in granting his permission for them to wed. Now Miles was being presumptuous. He had not asked the lady yet.

Mentally shaking himself back to the present, Miles peered around the tree for he could no longer hear raised voices. The sight that greeted him only roused his ire.

Lady Lovell gripped a tree trunk. Her wrapper was open and hanging off one bare and bony shoulder. Randall stood behind her. If the sight of his bare buttocks was not an indication of the rampant activities taking place, the man’s sudden grunts and groans proved enlightening.

Well, things had taken an interesting turn.

“Oh, Rudolph. Once we’re away from here, we can indulge ourselves without having to creep about in the shadows.”

The sound of skin slapping filled the air.

Miles closed his eyes as he felt suddenly nauseous.

“Oh, sweet nectar of the gods,” the dandy panted. “You drive me wild with your tight little body.”

“Rudolph, you say the sweetest things. Smack me, darling. Tell me how naughty I am for tempting you to sin.”

Lord Randall gasped for breath between piggish grunts. “You’re such a naughty minx, sweeting.” A slap rent the air. “Luring your master to partake in these devilish deeds.”

“You must punish me, my lord.”

“Punish you? Oh, yes. But there’s no time.”

“What, so soon?”

Miles suppressed a chuckle.

“Forgive me,” Randall said. “It’s all the excitement this evening.”

“Then come for me, my love.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Oh, yes,” Randall panted. “Yes, that’s it. I’m so close.”

Hell and damnation, even Miles was willing the bastard to spill himself.