A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

Deciding not to cloud his mind with problems beyond his control, he sat forward and placed his hand on Claudia’s knee. She did not flinch at his touch. Indeed, had he been a true rake and rogue he would have ventured a little higher, high enough to caress her soft thigh, high enough to stroke the sweet spot until she begged for more.

“Miss Darling.” He shook her gently lest he succumb to his darkest desires. “Claudia, wake up. We’ve arrived at Falaura Glen. We’re home.”

The lady’s lids fluttered open. It took her a moment to gather her bearings. “Home? Already? But I’ve only been asleep for five minutes.” She straightened, brushed her skirts and patted the sides of her hair.

Lockhart smiled. “You’ve slept for two hours.”

She nibbled her bottom lip, her eyes filled with apprehension. “Did I moan and mumble?”

“Delightfully so,” he lied.

A blush touched her cheeks. With a frustrated sigh, she leant forward and peered at the passing trees. “Are you coming up to the house? I thought you’d be eager to see Monsieur Dariell and inform him what you’ve learnt so far.”

And what would Lockhart tell his friend? That his family cared so little, they wanted rid of him for good? That the mystic’s wisdom proved accurate and Miss Darling was everything a man might hope for in a wife? That he struggled to see the line separating fantasy from reality?

“Does your sister not take supper at six? One would assume she’d dine with Dariell in your absence.”

“At six? Yes, of course.” She shook her head. “For some reason, it feels as though I’ve been away for years.”

Lockhart arched a brow. “Is my company so tedious?”

“On the contrary. You’re a pleasant companion.”

“Pleasant?” he scoffed. “You make me sound like an elderly aunt, one who comes to read to you and assist with needlework. One capable of recalling the ridiculous Latin names of every plant and shrub.”

Claudia chuckled. “You’re a charming companion,” she corrected.

“Madam, unless you wish to insult my masculinity, you must do better than that.”

“Very well.” She laughed again but then forced a serious expression. “You’re a hot-blooded and wickedly sinful companion who holds me enslaved with your expert mouth and impassioned conversation.”

He cast an arrogant grin as the carriage rumbled to a halt. “Now that sounds more like me. Perhaps when we return to town, I might show you how hot-blooded and wickedly sinful I am.”

The lady’s blue eyes sparkled to life. “You mean to wait until then?” she said in such a seductive lilt he had to fight the urge to bend her over the seat, lift her skirts and drive home.

Desire and pure carnal lust thrummed in the air.

They stared at each other, both challenging the other to make the first move. She wanted him. It had nothing to do with the teasing words of an actress. He had tasted the truth. And by God, if he didn’t have her, he might go insane.

The rattle of the handle drew him from his musings. The footman yanked open the carriage door and lowered the steps. The housekeeper came galloping down to greet them, almost tripping in her excitement.

“Oh, ma’am, you’ve come home.”

Claudia’s sensual smile turned to one of panic as she tore her gaze from him and focused on the woman clutching her hands to her chest.

“Is anything the matter, Mrs Bitton?” Grasping the footman’s fingers, Claudia practically jumped from the carriage. “Is it Emily? Has something dreadful happened?”

Lockhart vaulted to the ground and came to stand at Claudia’s side. He moved to place his hand at the small of her back but hesitated. They were not in London now, and she was not his wife.

“Why, nothing’s the matter, ma’am.” Mrs Bitton smiled. “I’m just pleased to see you home safely, that’s all.” She glanced at him and curtsied. “Sir.”

He expected a scowl of disapproval but received an almost grateful grin. Did Mrs Bitton want him to ravage her mistress? Did she hope an honest proposal might be forthcoming?

Claudia’s shoulders sagged as she breathed a relieved sigh. “And Emily is well? Have there have been any visitors?” The lady shivered upon asking the last question.

For a moment, Mrs Bitton looked puzzled. Recognition finally dawned, and the housekeeper’s eyes grew wide and a little fearful. “No visitors, ma’am.” The housekeeper’s relieved sigh roused his suspicion. Somewhere he had missed a vital clue when it came to understanding these odd facial exchanges. “And let’s hope for all our sakes it stays that way.”

“Indeed.” Claudia cast Lockhart a nervous smile before returning her attention to Mrs Bitton. “Is Emily taking supper in the dining room?” she said, quickly mounting the steps upon hearing the rumble of thunder.