How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1) (20 page)

Sin seethed at the circumstances, as did Rose, though not as visibly. Sin had been in a raging mood since the archery tournament, snapping at everyone. Twice now he and his aunt had engaged in an argument that in other households would have been described as a “huge row,” but here it didn’t even cause Lady Charlotte to stop buttering her bread.

“Perhaps I should read some more?” Mr. Munro said. She longed to just grab the book from his hand and throw it across the room. “I fancy that I can pronounce some of the Shakespearean terms better than most.”

“Another time, perhaps. I’ve a few things I must see to this afternoon. In fact, if you’ll pardon me, I should excuse myself now.” She stood and tried not to yawn again as the pugs all leapt to their feet and came to stand beside her, staring up at her as if she were their queen.

“Where are you going?” Munro asked, a definite point in his voice.

She patted each pug. “I wish to speak to Miss Isobel about a reticule she has a pattern for.”

“I’ll come with you.” Munro was on his feet, the book discarded, before she could frame a suitable rejection. He proffered his arm. “Shall we? I believe Miss Isobel is in the library with her sister and Lord Cameron.”

Rose sighed and started to agree, but a sudden awareness of the quiet made her turn toward the windows. “It stopped raining!”

Lady Charlotte looked out the window. “So it has.”

The heavens cracked open and a ray of sunshine slanted over the lawn, directly where the target had been set up the day before.

“It’s a sign,” Rose breathed. “Lady Charlotte, do you know where Lord Sinclair might be?”

Lady Charlotte’s brows lowered. “I believe he’s in the library, too, but I don’t think you should—”

Rose was already headed toward the door, Munro following.

He tried to engage her in banter as she hurried down the hallway to the library. Rose smiled politely, though inwardly she screamed. She’d never been so tired of one person in her life, mainly because his line of conversation revolved around himself and no one else.

They reached the library and she walked through the open door. Miss Muriella, apparently lulled by the rain, too, was sound asleep on a corner of the settee, a book open on her knee, while Miss Isobel and Lord Cameron stood by the terrace doors.

“I don’t see Sinclair,” Munro said rather unnecessarily.

“I haven’t seen him today,” Cameron said with a shrug.

“Nor have I,” Miss Isobel agreed. “Perhaps he is indisposed? He did drink a great deal of port last night.”

Rose frowned. “He didn’t have any more than Lord Cameron.”

Lord Cameron smirked. “Yes, but I hold mine better.”

Miss Isobel tittered.

Rose pressed her lips into a firm line. “I’ll look for Lord Sinclair elsewhere.” She dipped a scant curtsy, spun on her heel, and left, Munro puffing beside her.

“Where are you going now?” he asked as she took the stairs at a brisk pace.

“To the billiards room. Perhaps he’s there.”

“That’s a capital idea. I love to play billiards, myself. Do you play, Miss Balfour?” Before she could answer, he was off again. “I once played with the Duke of Richmond, you know. He’s a fine chap. His table is—” On and on he went, recalling each game he’d ever had. When they reached the landing, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to outpace him, so she purposefully began to walk slower.

Caught up in his own self-engrossing tale, Munro never noticed and led her down the hallway to the billiards room, talking over his shoulder as he went.

They were almost there when she heard the sound of a door opening, and then a firm hand was placed about her arm. Before she could make a sound, she was yanked to one side and enfolded in velvety blackness, her back pressed to something firm as Sin’s arms closed about her.

She blinked into the darkness, the black slowly softening to a gray, and she could make out shelves of what appeared to be linens. The faint scent of starch confirmed this.
Good God, we’re in a closet.

She opened her mouth, but Sin placed a finger over her lips. “Shhhh,” he whispered.

They were hiding in a
closet,
for heaven’s sake.
A closet!
A giggle rose in her chest and she bit her lip to quell it. What a scoundrel! Rose knew she should be outraged, yet all she felt was a deep tickle of amusement and the rare thrill of being naughty.

Munro, meanwhile, was oblivious to her absence. She could still hear him droning on and on as he strutted on down the hallway.

Suddenly, the voice stopped and there was silence.

“Miss Balfour?”

She bit her lip harder to keep her giggle subdued. Sin’s arms tightened around her, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

It was amazingly intimate to stand with one’s back pressed to a man’s broad chest, his arms warmly wrapped about her. Her desire to giggle softened into a smile as a sense of deep peace spread through her.
Soon, the only urge she had to fight was that of turning in the circle of Sin’s arms and burrowing against him.

A loud sigh echoed in the hallway as Munro mumbled something about “looking in the music room” before heavy footsteps came back down the hallway and continued past the closet. Rose watched, her breath held, as Munro’s shadow crossed through the light that shone under the door.

As the shadow and then footsteps faded away, Sin chuckled. She felt each reverberation where her back was pressed to his chest and she sighed. It was heavenly.

“He’s gone,” Sin said in a low voice.

“Thank goodness,” Rose said. “I was never so close to screaming in my life. He’s horrible!”

“In this closet, you can do anything you wish.” Sin’s lips were beside her ear, his warm breath making her skin prickle. “Though I hope you won’t scream.”

She started to turn, but Sin held her tight. “Stay there a moment.”

He gently nipped her ear and she gasped as shivers flew through her. “Sin, that’s—”

He did it again and, without thought, she tilted her head to give him more access. He nipped and kissed her ear and neck, creating a cacophony of sensations and wiping all thoughts from her mind.

Sin moved with a slow, almost leisurely intent, his mouth never still, his breath warm against her skin.

He nuzzled her neck. “At dinner last night, I heard
you tell Miss Muriella about Caith Manor. Tell me about your home.”

She frowned, trying to collect her thoughts. “My . . . home? Why?”

His hands slid to her waist. “Because you intrigue me.”

She
intrigued
him?

“Are you happy there?” he asked between laying breeze-soft kisses on her cheek. “What do you do when you are home?” He rubbed his cheek against hers, and she shivered at the feel of his stubbled skin.

“I oversee the house and my sisters and—” She caught her breath as he blew on her ear. “Sin, what are you doing?” she managed.

“Testing your limits.” He nipped her ear, his breath warm on the delicate skin.

It was so hard to think. Her entire body was aflame, her heart thudding hard in her throat, her skin tight and tingling.

What did he ask? Oh . . . yes. Caith Manor.
“If I tell you about my home, will you tell me about yours?”

“Which one?”

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “There’s more than one?”

His teeth flashed in the dim light. “There are twelve.” He slid his hands up from her hips until they crossed over her stomach as he buried his face in her neck. “Tell me about your home.”

She took a breath and tried to focus. “Caith Manor
is quite old, and we haven’t the money to keep it as it should be. There are plenty of loose—” She caught her breath as he began to kiss her neck.
What was I saying?

Rose cleared her throat. “Plenty of loose floorboards, chimneys that smoke, and windows that let in cold air.”

His hands slid to beneath her breasts.

Her nipples instantly tightened. God, but she
yearned
for him to touch her breasts. She pressed back against him, her hands on each side of his thighs as she grasped the soft wool of his coat.

With her hands to each side, her entire front was available to his touch. And oh, how she wanted him to touch her.

His thumbs pressed against the bottom of her breasts and she breathed deeply, reveling in the moment. All of her life, she’d been the person who’d taken care of things, who’d gone without so that her sisters and father might have more. And though she didn’t regret those decisions, she realized she’d missed parts of her own life because of them.

But right now, at this very second, she could do something for herself. Something she would never forget. Something that set her soul afire.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice muffled against her neck. “Your home?”

She cleared her throat, her voice husky as she said, “Though Caith Manor is creaky and old, I miss it still.”

He kissed her ear. “Have you always lived there?”

“Yes.”
Yes, yes, yes.
She matched each with one of his kisses.

He rubbed his stubbled chin over her ear. “What do you do for amusement at Caith Manor?”

“We—” She gulped. She couldn’t think of a single thing right now.
Think, Rose,
she ordered herself. “We play chess and whist, we have a boat that we row about the lake near Father’s greenhouses, and—” The words disappeared as his lips slid to the corner of hers.

“Yes?” he whispered against her. “What else?”

“W-we sometimes play pall-mall, or shoot arrows at targets we’d hang from the trees in Father’s orchard.”

It was odd having such a mundane conversation while engaging in such sensual activities. Her mind tried so hard to converse, but her body was aching with distraction. “Caith is on a knoll set in a small wood. There’s a tree on the property that some say is over eight hundred years old.”

“Lovely,” he murmured as he nipped a line along her jaw.

“Oh yes. So lovely,” she said with a sigh, her entire body quivering at his touch. “I-I wish you could visit. You would enjoy—
Oh!
”

He slid his hands to her breasts and rested there, gently cupping them. Warmth spread through her.

She gripped his coat tighter and shivered. His thumbs found her nipples through the thin layers of muslin of her gown and chemise.

She moaned softly and turned her face to the side, toward his.

He captured her lips with an instant, deep kiss, and she was swept away on a tide of mad passion. Every bit of her ached for him. Her breasts seemed to swell at his touch, her hips sliding restlessly as his thumbs encircled her hardened nipples. She’d never felt such agonizing sweetness as she yearned for him with an ache she’d never before felt.

She shifted restlessly and he gasped against her mouth. She could feel the hard line of his cock pressed against his breeches. He was as aroused as she. The thought made her swell with pride.

She released his coat and slipped a hand to his turgid cock, amazed at her own boldness.

He caught his breath as her hand cupped him.

Rose was excited at her fearlessness. He wasn’t the only one who could destroy a person’s ability to think. Unless she was mistaken about the pained pleasure on Sin’s face, she, too, had that power. She could make a man like Sin gasp for air as if he were drowning.

She reveled in the heady moment, rubbing his cock through the thick cover of his breeches.

Sin groaned and tugged her hand away, his breathing harsh in the silence of the closet. He rested his cheek against her forehead and said in a husky voice, “Easy, sweet.”

“You didn’t like that?”

He laughed, low and deep, the sound rumbling
in his broad chest. “I loved it. Almost too much.” He turned her in his arms until she faced him and then he swooped her up, lifting her from her feet and burying his face in her neck. She slipped her arms about his neck and held him as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

After a moment, he sighed and slowly slid her to her feet. “I think we’d best leave our closet paradise.”

Her heart sank. “But why?” She toyed with his cravat pin.

“Because Munro will come looking for you, and we can’t risk him setting up a hue and cry.”

“No one knows where I am.”

“No one knows where I am, either,” he returned. “And that, my dear, could be our undoing.”

She sighed. He was right, of course. And she knew she needed to have a care about propriety. But it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. Didn’t she deserve a little bit of paradise? At least a moment or two?

She slid her hands down his chest, trying to soak in as much of this time as she could. In a few moments, she’d be out of this closet and back to being polite Miss Balfour. Worse, in a few weeks she’d be back at Caith Manor, where she’d return to her normal life, one she’d always thought she’d been happy with, but now . . . She looked up into Sin’s face. She was changing. Was that a good thing?

She wasn’t certain. All she knew was that she wouldn’t stop. Not now.

He captured her hand and pressed a warm kiss to the palm. “We should make our escape while we can.” He stepped past her and cracked the door open very carefully, looking both ways before he pushed it wide.

He grinned down at Rose, noting the downward turn of her lips. “After you, my lady.”

She cast a last, wistful look at the closet before she stepped out into the hallway, where he joined her, shutting the door behind them.

She looked so forlorn that he wished they hadn’t interrupted their interlude at all. “We’ll have to remember that closet if Munro continues to monopolize you.”

Her eyes sparkled. “He’s been driving me mad.”

“He’d talk the ears off a goat.”

She laughed. “I already fell asleep during one of his stories.”

“How unfortunate. Did he notice?”

“Yes, but only after Lady Charlotte pointed it out to him.”

“He’s a numbskull. Were you escorting him to the billiards room to knock him unconscious with a stick, perchance?”

“No.” She hesitated, a faint flush on her cheeks. “I was on my way to find you.”