The Artist and the Rake (The Merry Misfits of Bath 4)

Maybe the next time he attempted to kiss her, she would not turn her head or pull away.

Now that she’d made that decision, she was anxious for Marcus to try to kiss her again. Should she let him know she was willing? Would he think she was a loose woman because of her experience in the brothel?

“Here we are.” Marcus tapped Lizbeth on the shoulder. “You were far away somewhere, sweeting.”

She felt the heat rise from her middle, knowing her face was bright red. He looked at her oddly, as if he could ascertain where her thoughts had wandered. Of course, he couldn’t, but all the same, instead of embarrassment, a different sort of excitement raced through her.

“Are you well, Lizbeth?” He studied her.

“Yes.” She fanned her face with her hand. “Just a bit overheated.”

Whether it was her words or her demeanor, the look he gave her only caused her insides to heat up more. His smirk as he handed her out of the carriage confirmed her suspicion.

“I would like a word with you in the library once we are settled.” The heat in his eyes warmed her even further.

Good grief! She gasped as another thought flitted through her mind. Had he assumed that since she had asked him to help her overcome her terrible experience in the brothel that she expected him to then offer her his protection? To become his mistress?

What else could he possibly be thinking? Rumor had it that he had declared often and loudly f

or years that marriage was not for him.

Well, we will see about that. If he suggested such a thing, she would slap his face and with all the dignity she could muster, she would order him from the house.

Except the house was his sister’s.

“Oh, thank heavens you’re here.” Sybil raced down the steps, her unfastened coat flying behind her as she tied the strings of her bonnet under her chin.

“What is wrong?” Lizbeth asked.

“Lady Berkshire says the babe is on the way and his lordship is not home.” The young maid wrung her hands and looked back and forth between Lizbeth and Marcus.

Marcus raced past Sybil into the house almost knocking the poor girl down. “Where is Lady Berkshire?” he asked as he sped past Penrose.

“Miss Sybil said she is in her bedchamber.” Penrose wiped the sweat beaded on his forehead. “His lordship is not at home.”

“So I’ve heard.” Marcus turned to Lizbeth who was right on his heels. “I believe I know where Berkshire is this time of day. I will round him up and bring him home. Can you take care of Addie until he arrives?”

“What about the doctor?” Lizbeth asked.

Marcus snapped his fingers. “Right. We need the doctor.” He was not meant to play this role. At least not yet. “Where is my mother?”

“She went into town to do some shopping.” The butler now looked as if he were about to pass out.

“Bloody hell.” He took Lizbeth by the hand and dragged her up the stairs. “Sit with Addie, and I will fetch the doctor first, and then find Grayson.”

Lizbeth nodded. She also looked quite pale. Bloody hell again. Addie and her husband had months to prepare for this, so why was no one where they were supposed to be when the babe decided to make an entrance?

He continued to drag her, until she came to a complete stop. “Wait!”

“What?” Did no one know how serious this was?

“I know where Berkshire’s bedchambers are. Why don’t you go find Grayson and fetch the doctor? Or fetch the doctor first.”

“Who is the doctor?”

They stared at each other for a few moments. “Bloody hell.”

Marcus stalked down the corridor with Lizbeth on his heels. The door slammed against the wall as they burst into Addie’s bedchamber.