Page 47 of Earl Crazy
“Stubborn chit.” He reached out and tweaked one of her loose curls. “Very well.”
“Thank you. Now, what do you suppose has become of Lucifer? Oh, there he is.” Instead of vanishing into the depths of the cottage like the imp he was, Lucifer had curled up on a plump settee near the fire, and gone to sleep.
He let out a sleepy grunt when she gathered him into her arms, but he allowed himself to be wrapped in the loose folds of her cloak, and carried out the door and into the garden. Itwaschilly, just as Kit had said, the ground covered with a thin layer of frost that crunched beneath their feet as they made their way across the pathway to the wrought iron fence.
It was silly of her, but a sudden bashfulness overcame her when they paused by the gate, and she peeked up at him to find him gazing down at her, his face half lost in shadows, and the other half limned in silver moonlight.
What was happening to her? She wasn’t some bashful maiden who couldn’t meet a man’s gaze without blushing. But then, had there ever been a man who looked more beautiful in the moonlight than he, with his tousled auburn hair, and the shadow of dark bristles sprouting on his strong jaw?
It had been wrong of her to kiss him. Wrong to touch him, and to do all the other risky and wonderful things she’d done with him, but even now, standing in a wind so chill it should have brought her to her senses, her heart was free of regret.
There was no telling what would happen between them now. Perhaps they’d behave as they’d done before tonight, as if they scarcely knew each other. He might go on to marry Lady Anne Wilmot, or Lady Cressida, and she’d return to Hambleden with Phee and resume her quiet life.
But never—never—would she ever wish to undo those magical moments with him. At night, when she was alone in her bed, she’d think of him, and hold the memory of his kiss close to her heart.
She peeked up at him from under her lashes. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight?” He drew closer, a smile tugging at his lips. “Is that all, Tilly?”
“Well, I…” She trailed off with a swallow as he cupped her cheeks in his hands, his palms impossibly warm against her skin, and in the next breath he was kissing her, his warm lips and the moonlight caressing her face luring her into a thousand romantic dreams.
It wasn’t a carnal kiss—not the delirious conquering of her mouth that made her nerve endings leap to life and clamor for more—but a sweet, gentle kiss, his tongue daring only a brief foray between her lips before he set her away from him with a groan. “Go, Tilly, before I snatch you up and take you back to the cottage with me.” He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “I’ll come to you tomorrow.”
She nodded, then forced herself to take a step backwards, then another, then she turned and fled before she could give in to the wild urgings of her heart, and throw herself back into his arms.
Lucifer poked his head out from the folds of her cloak as she stumbled through the gate and ran through the rose garden to the south side of the lawn, where she might sneak through the door that led to the kitchen and up the back staircase. Just a little further, and she’d be safely tucked into her bed, and no one any the wiser—
“Grrr.”
“Lucifer?” She paused on one side of the tall hedge that separated the garden from a narrow drive that led to the kitchens. Lucifer’s small body had gone stiff against her, and his chest vibrated with another growl. “Whatever is the matter?”
Had someone seen them? She glanced around, her heart thumping, but this part of the lawn was secluded, hidden on one side by the tall oaks that lined the front drive, and the thick hedge on the other, and there didn’t seem to be anyone about. “Hush, Lucifer. There’s no one here.”
But the words had scarcely left her lips before she heard it, the faint but unmistakable jingle of a harness, then a horse’s snort, coming from the other side of the hedge. She clutched Lucifer to her chest. Why in the world would someone be riding a horsehere, at this time of—
“…break my family’s heart.”
Dear God, there were voices, coming from the other side of the hedge! She crept closer and peeked through a gap in the branches. On the other side, parked in the drive was a black, unmarked carriage.
“You would break my heart instead?” a man replied, his tone low and urgent.
She sucked in a stunned breath. Two dark figures stood before the carriage. She couldn’t see their faces—the moon was such that she could only see their silhouettes—but she would have known the woman anywhere.
Harriett, it seemed, had secrets of her own.
Because itwasHarriett, and beside her stood a much taller, broader figure, and he was speaking earnestly to her, his words rapid. There was nothing threatening in his tone, but his large body was tense in a way that made the hairs on Tilly’s arms rise in alarm.
What in the world was Harriettdoing, meeting a gentleman in the kitchen drive at night?
Except she knew already, didn’t she? What reason could there be for a young lady to meet a man alone at night—a man in an unmarked carriage, at that—unless she were absconding with him?
The man must be Lord Wyle. Harriett would never agree to such a disgraceful scheme for any other gentleman, but she fancied herself madly in love with Lord Wyle, and goodness knew there wasn’t a creature alive more foolish than a lady in love.
But dear God, an elopement? Why in the world should Lord Wyle wish for such a thing? He was the Nonesuch, for pity’s sake, the gentleman every young lady in London wanted! He was handsome, wealthy, and titled. What reason could he have for absconding with his bride?
“I can’t stop thinking of my poor Aunt, who’s been so kind to me.” Harriett sounded as if she were near tears. “And my brother! He’ll never forgive—”
Lord Wyle cut her off. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harriett. No brother could be anything other than thrilled to see his sister become the Countess of Wyle.”
