A Scoundrel by Moonlight (Sons of Sin 4)

“I curse that we must wait at all,” he said with a hint of savagery that carried into his kiss.

Chapter Seventeen

Lowering clouds brought early dusk to the isolated cottage tucked into Derbyshire’s Peaks. For two days, Nell had waited here. Leath had promised to arrive today, but the evening drew in without him. A dizzying mixture of longing and nerves kept her at the parlor window overlooking the graveled drive. A drive that remained empty, despite all her dedicated watching.

The day after Nell had agreed to become his mistress, Leath left Alloway Chase for a week, ostensibly to visit another estate. While away, he’d sent her a letter bristling with daunting practicalities, softened only by a “yours, James” at the end. Sentimental fool she was, she’d slept ever since with that letter under her pillow. She’d hoped that tonight she’d have more than his words to keep her warm.

Disconsolately she turned away from the rain outside.

He’d come. She knew he would. But the delay was excruciating. Nearly two weeks ago, she’d vowed herself to a man in a rush of passion, and all she had to show for it was a few kisses.

She dropped onto the brocade couch before the roaring fire. Derbyshire seemed even colder than Yorkshire. There was snow on the surrounding hills and when she’d ventured out to explore the garden, she lasted minutes before hurrying inside to the warmth.

She’d left the marchioness’s employment with a story about caring for an ill aunt. Since then, she’d crossed another wilderness and settled into this exquisite bower.

Nell appreciated Leath’s discretion in his choice of love nest. This thatched house with its snug parlor and cozy bedroom upstairs under the eaves held a touch of the fairy tale. The larder was stocked with all manner of delicacies, enough to last the week. Leath had arranged every luxury except servants. She was desperately glad that she wouldn’t have to face knowing eyes.

She hadn’t yet heard his lordship’s long-term plans. Somewhere she’d need to accustom herself to life as a fallen woman. She and her lover couldn’t hide in this sanctuary forever, making do for themselves.

How she wished Leath would come. Avoiding grim reality became more onerous every moment. A woman who gave everything up for love shouldn’t sit alone on a cold night, contemplating the lonely years ahead.

Sighing, Nell rose and lit the candles. She wandered into the kitchen to pour a glass of wine. The wind whipped the trees outside so violently that she found it in herself to be glad that Leath wasn’t on the road.

Sipping the rich claret, she stared out the kitchen window. Then she trudged back to the parlor. She wasn’t hungry, but it was too early for bed.

“Eleanor?”

She raised her head and stared at the towering figure dripping onto the flagstones in the hallway. “My lord?”

The shock of seeing him when she’d reconciled herself to another night alone was too much. To her utter mortification, tears flooded her eyes.

“Oh, my darling.” Flinging away his greatcoat and dropping his bags, he rushed forward and caught her wine before she spilled it. Curling one arm around her waist, he slid the glass onto a table before enveloping her in his heat, his power, his sheer presence.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered, struggling not to weep into his chest. The scents of leather, sandalwood, and Leath flooded her senses. “You gave me such a surprise.”

His embrace tightened. “I didn’t mean to be so late. The damned horse went lame outside Matlock and the weather’s been horrid.”

“You should have waited until tomorrow.” The battle against tears wasn’t going well.

“And spend another day without you? I’d rather cut off my arm.” He swung her around until he collapsed onto the chaise with her lying against him. “Eleanor, Eleanor, don’t cry. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am,” she wailed into his shirtfront. “You’ll think you’ve taken on a complete lunatic.”

His laugh held a fondness that went a long way to soothing her distress. “It’s the wait. It’s enough to drive the sanest person—among whom, dear Miss Trim, I count you—mad.”

“You won’t believe this, but I rarely cry.”

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

She burrowed more deeply against him. “I trust you.”

“I’m glad.” A note in his beautiful voice had her lifting her head.

“I truly am happy to see you,” she said, not sure whether he’d believe her. With a shaking hand, she brushed her tears away.

“I know you are,” he said with a twitch of his lips. He caught her face between his hands and studied her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “And I’m overjoyed to see you. It’s been a long ten days.”

“Oh, yes,” she said fervently. She sniffed and a choked giggle escaped. “I must look a fright.”