Page 39 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

Arabella’s gaze traveled from Stephen to Madalene. She halted and stood still for a moment. Then with the grace of a ballerina, she eased herself onto the ground and grasped her ankle. Her high-pitched screech echoed.

Calhoun put down his glass and darted toward her. “Miss Arabella is hurt. Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder.

“I do not believe she is….” What was the point? Stephen sighed and followed Calhoun.

Stephen filled his plate with rolls as large as his fist, thick slices of roast beef, sugared apples, and a mixed salad of duck, eggs, celery, and lettuce. Then he, Blythe, and Calhoun shared childhood memories and partook of the feast as they looked out over the lake. Numerous times, he fought his inclination to repeat Myrle and Diggins’s declarations. But something indiscernible stopped him.

The major leaned back in his chair. “This afternoon has not been a chore. It has been quite enjoyable, in fact.”

Stephen inhaled a cleansing breath. This spot might be one of the most beautiful places he’d visited.

“Yes, perfect except for Miss Arabella’s injured ankle,” Calhoun said. “I shall retrieve a carriage, so she does not have to walk home on it.”

Still skeptical about Arabella’s injury, Stephen held his tongue. Moreover, if Calhoun paid attention to her, perchance she would leave him alone.

“That would be quite gentlemanly of you.” Blythe rearranged his chair so that he could view the other picnickers.

Stephen and Calhoun followed his example.

Madalene Spencer stood out in the picturesque panorama. The ribbons from her bonnet and the hems of her skirts andpelisseblew with the breeze. Her sensual lips turned upward as she spoke animatedly with her aunt.

Stephen swallowed desire. “Lady Saxton insists I accompany her and her niece this afternoon. They would like to visit the old chapel we have heard so much about.”

Major Blythe’s brow furrowed. “I am afraid that is a poor idea indeed.”

“I respect your opinion on the matter, but how do I tell our hostess that her husband forbids me to accompany her?” Stephen sighed and stood. “I suppose I must ask Sir Saxton’s permission.”

Calhoun blanched. “Better you than me.”

“I hope you know what you are doing,” Blythe said.

He knew exactly what he was doing—walking to his death as a wide-eyed Madalene watched from her seat in the tent.

Adams, Dupont, and bloody Lord Beaumont smirked at his approach.

“Lord Saxton, may I speak with you privately?” Stephen asked.

The baronet excused himself and followed Stephen, his scorching glare and forceful march becoming more intense as they made their way to an isolated spot by the tree line.

“I am afraid I find myself in quite a predicament. Lady Saxton has asked me to accompany her to the old chapel.” Stephen met those angry eyes. “Your niece is to go with us. I did not want to rudely dismiss your wife’s invitation, and I do not want to defy you. How would you like me to handle this situation?”

Saxton sniffed as he rubbed his nose. “You should accompany my wife and niece. Now excuse me.” He turned, stomped back to his seat, and flung himself into his chair.

That was not the volatile response Stephen expected. He grinned. Since there was no bullet in his chest, he would spend a proper afternoon with Madalene Spencer.

Stephen and Madalene walked side by side, Lady Saxton a few feet behind them. Madalene’s exotic scent carried through the breeze taunting Stephen’s prick, the damn thing having a mind of its own.

Perchance honest conversation would temper his lasciviousness. “This morning, your uncle forbade me to speak to you. And now he has allowed us to spend the afternoon together.”

Madalene chewed on her luscious bottom lip.

“Are you of the opinion that your aunt had something to do with his change of heart?” he asked, for what else could it be?

“Yes. That is surely the reason. Aunt Henrietta is quite persuasive.”

“She is a single-minded woman.” Stephen chuckled. He had not yet met a female who did not have power over the men in her life. He sobered and exhaled. “Perchance this is none of my business, but do you have romantic inclinations towards Hugo Adams?”

She cringed. “No.”