Passion for the Game (Georgian 2)

“More fool they. It’s much preferable to be in charity with you.” He sprawled across the blanket on his side, his head resting in his hand.

“If I begged a favor from you,” she asked softly, “would you try to grant it?”

“Of course,” he murmured, studying her.

He was always studying her. Sometimes she felt as if he was examining her even when he wasn’t looking directly at her. She seemed to be a source of great interest to him, though she had yet to discern why.

Reaching into her reticule, she withdrew the letter she had drafted to Maria. “I would like you to post this for me. I’m afraid I lack her direction. But she is quite infamous, and it should not be too difficult to find her. Also, would you mind terribly if she were to reply to you?”

Ware reached out for the missive and gazed down at her handwriting. “The notorious Lady Winter.” Glancing back up at her with an arched brow, he said, “I pray you will indulge me with the answers to some questions.”

Amelia nodded. “Of course. Anyone would be curious.”

“First, why ask me to post this instead of managing the task yourself?”

“I am not allowed to correspond with anyone,” she explained. “Even discourse with Lord Welton must be done through my governess.”

“I find that quite alarming,” he said, his tone low and more serious than she had ever heard it. In truth, she had almost thought that Ware was never anything but mildly amused by circumstances around him. “I also dislike the look of the men who patrol the borders of the property. Tell me, Amelia. Are you a prisoner there?”

Taking a deep breath, she decided to tell her friend all that she knew. He listened attentively, as he always did, as if every word that left her mouth was of the utmost importance. She adored him for that.

By the time she finished her short tale, Ware was seated cross-legged before her, his blue eyes intense and the line of his mouth somber. “Have you never considered fleeing?”

Amelia blinked and then looked down at her intertwined hands. “Once or twice,” she admitted. “But truly, I am not maltreated. The servants are kind to me, my governesses gentle and even tempered. I have lovely gowns and proper schooling. What would I do, if I were to leave? Where would I go? How foolish would I be to set out on my own with no destination and no means of support?”

She shrugged and looked up at him again. “If my father is correct about my sister, then he is only protecting me.”

“You do not believe that,” the earl said gently, setting his hand atop of hers, “or you would not ask me to post this for you.”

“Wouldn’t you be curious?” she asked, genuinely seeking his counsel.

“Of course, but then I am a curious fellow.”

“Well, I am a curious female.”

His blue eyes smiled. “Very well, my fair princess. I will humbly manage this task for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Then, embarrassed at her exuberance, she recoiled, blushing.

Ware, however, had a soft smile on his aristocratic features. “Not the kiss I was hoping for,” he murmured. “But it will do.”

Chapter 18

Simon situated himself against the padded headboard and reached for the glass of wine that rested on the small table by the bed. His skin was heated by his exertions, so he ignored the linens and allowed the occasional breeze from the nearby open sash to cool him.

His throat worked with a large swallow, then he glanced down at the pretty blonde beside him with a lazy smile. “A drink, Amy?” he asked solicitously.

“Um.” The girl sat up, revealing small but nicely curved breasts, and accepted the proffered glass.

“So tell me more,” he murmured, studying her carefully beneath heavy-lidded eyes, “about this secret panel in Lord Sedgewick’s house.”

Amy swallowed the fine beverage with an unschooled gulp that made him wince inwardly. “’e uses it to ’ide ’is liquor.”

“His contraband liquor.”

“Aye.”

“And access can be gained near the coal chute?”

She nodded, her curls swaying around her appealing features. “Makes the deliveries simpler. You won’t steal it, will you?”

“Of course not,” he soothed. “I simply find the idea quite clever and may implement something similar in my own home.”

Simon dipped his finger into the glass, then painted the maid’s pretty mouth with it. She flushed, her gaze darting to where his semierect cock lay against his thigh. “We will return to that in a moment,” he murmured, hiding a smile at how easy she was to distract.

Her lower lip thrust out in a pout.

“When does he receive callers?”

“Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to six.”

He smiled. Once he finished here, he would visit the space and ascertain whether it was possible to hear clearly through the walls or not. If so, he would schedule a man to sit in that spot every Tuesday and Thursday in the hopes of learning more about the viscount. There was a reason Sedgewick had approached Maria at the masquerade, and Simon would learn of it.

But first he had to finish his business here.

He set aside his glass and glanced at Amy with a seductive smile. She shivered and lay back down quickly.

Ah, it is a strenuous job, he thought with an inner grin.

Then he set to work.

Amelia was so excited about the letter to Maria that she practically skipped through the trees toward the house. For the first time, she felt as if she was actively working toward something. She had a goal, and she had set in motion the steps required to achieve it. Lost in the heady excitement of that, she was once again caught off guard by grasping arms, but her startled cry was smothered by a warm, passionate mouth and her protest instantly turned into a plaintive moan.

“Colin,” she breathed with her eyes closed and her lips curved in a smile.

“Tell me you didn’t kiss him,” he said gruffly, both of his powerful arms banded around her waist and lower back.

“Tell me I am not dreaming

,” she murmured, filled with pure pleasure at being near her love again.

“It would be better if you were,” he said, releasing her with a sigh.

Opening her eyes, Amelia noted his frown and the harshly set line of his sensual lips. “Why are you so determined to feel so terrible about something so wonderful?”

His lips curved ruefully. “Sweet Amelia,” he murmured, cupping her face. His overly long hair fell over his brow, framing those dark eyes she adored. “Because sometimes it’s better to not know what you’re missing. Then you can tell yourself that it wouldn’t have been as wonderful as you thought. But once you know it, you can’t help but pine for it.”

“Will you pine for me?” she asked, her heart fluttering at the thought.

“Selfish girl.”

“I have been wretched over you.”

His eyes closed and he kissed her softly. “Tell me you didn’t kiss him.”

“Colin, have you no faith in me?” Rising to her tiptoes, she rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “I simply asked him for a favor.”

“What favor?” he asked crossly.

“I asked him to post a letter to my sister for me.”

He stilled. “What?” He waved his hand around them. “All of this is to keep her away from you.”

“I need to know her.” She pushed away from him and crossed her arms stubbornly.

“No, you don’t. Jesus.” Colin growled and set his hands on his hips. “You’re always finding some mischief or another.”

With his exotic handsomeness and tendency to brood, he looked divine to Amelia. She sighed with deep infatuation. That only made his scowl deepen. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered.

“Like what?”

He pointed a finger at her. “Like that!”

“I love you,” she explained with all the girlish adoration she held for him in her heart. “It’s the only way I know how to look at you.”