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Authors: Sally MacKenzie

BOOK: Bedding Lord Ned
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At least it was clear Lady Juliet was not afraid of Cox.
“We will have to wait for the snow to stop,” Ned said. “O'Leary, the head groom, will not want the horses out if the conditions aren't safe for them.”
“Oh, pooh.” Lady Juliet stuck her lower lip out in what she must think was a fetching pout, but her eyes slid back up to Cox. “Well, then I suppose I shall have to be patient, shan't I?”
“As shall we all.” Ned glanced down to see if this odd little drama was being observed. Lady Heldon smirked at him from the bottom of the steps. Damn.
Cox and Ellie finally reached the bedroom floor and turned down the corridor. Fortunately, Mama had put Ellie in a room close to Ned's; he'd deposit Lady Juliet and then be certain Cox made his way promptly to his own bedchamber before he retired himself.
He stopped at Lady Juliet's door to bid her good night while trying to watch Ellie and Cox unobtrusively. Lady Juliet was not so cautious. She simply stood and stared, so Ned joined her. The show was better than a damn farce.
“You have such a lovely voice, Miss Bowman,” Cox said rather passionately. The man knew he had an audience. “I thoroughly enjoyed singing with you.”
“Thank you.” Ellie glanced at Ned and Lady Juliet and then pushed open her door. “Good ni—”
Cox captured her hand, lifting it to his lips. “I felt such a connection with you when our voices joined.”
Lady Juliet hissed.
Ned agreed with her. The urge to punch Cox in the nose returned tenfold. How could the man spout such ridiculous drivel with a straight face? Ellie must have more sense than to be taken in by it.
And Cox had bloody well better not try joining anything besides his voice with Ellie.
Ellie darted another glance at them and then tugged her fingers free. “Yes, thank you, I enjoyed singing with you, too, sir. Now if you'll excuse me, I find I'm quite tired. Good night.” She stepped into her room and shut her door firmly in Cox's face. Ned wanted to cheer.
Cox stared at the closed door for a moment, and then turned and started back toward them.
Suddenly Lady Juliet was smiling up at Ned. She, too, sounded rather passionate. “Thank you so much for your kind escort, my lord. It was delightful sitting with you in the music room, and I look forward to seeing you”—she flicked her eyes at Cox and dropped her voice again—“later.”
Cox's face darkened so he resembled a thundercloud—or a man bent on murder, preferably Ned's.
Bloody hell. Ned was not going to get caught up in whatever little game these two were playing. “In the morning,” he said firmly. “I will see you in the morning, Lady Juliet.”
He bowed and stepped aside so Cox could pass. The man glared at him, and then gave Lady Juliet a hard look before proceeding to his room. Lady Juliet smiled at Cox's back and then closed her door.
Ned strode down the corridor. Perhaps he should rethink his pursuit of Lady Juliet. She obviously had some feelings for Cox—and Cox had some feelings for her.
He paused as he passed Ellie's door. Should he warn her? He could knock—
He heard a step behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Lady Heldon had reached the floor. He'd better keep moving. The woman wouldn't understand that since he and Ellie were almost siblings, his talking with her in her bedchamber would be unexceptional. Not that he'd ever done such a thing, of course.
When he got to his rooms, he found the door ajar. Damnation! He was certain he'd shut it firmly when he'd left earlier. Could ... no, this couldn't be happening again. He stepped inside. “Reggie!”
“Merrow!”
Blast it all. “You'd better not be up to your thieving tricks again or I'll toss you out the window into the snow.”
He strode through his sitting room to his bedroom. There was Reggie, sitting on his bed, casually licking his hind leg.
“Did one of the maids let you in?”
Reggie paused, blinked at him, and then transferred his attention to his other hind leg.
“You'd better hope I don't find anything under this bed.”
And damn it, now he was reduced to talking to a cat.
He got down on his hands and knees and reached into the murky space. Confound it, Reggie
had
been sneaking around the guest rooms. He dumped the plunder onto the coverlet: three white plumes, a gray kidskin glove, a small enameled snuffbox with a very naughty picture on the lid, a jeweled hairpin, and something that looked suspiciously like a false calf.
“How the hell are we going to return all this? Reggie—oh, damn.”
Reggie jumped off the bed, revealing he'd been lying on yet another purloined item—a pair of red silk drawers.
Chapter 6
Find a way to haunt a man's thoughts.
—Venus's Love Notes
 
 
“It's still snowing. No sleigh rides today.” The Duke of Greycliffe let the curtain fall over the window and padded back to the ducal bed. “How do you propose to keep your guests out of trouble, my dear duchess?”
“They're your guests, too, Drew,” Venus said, “and—ack!” She scooted away from him. “Kindly keep your feet to yourself. They are blocks of ice.”
Drew grinned as he reached for her again. “But isn't that why I have a lovely wife in my bed—to warm my feet when they are cold?”
“No. Definitely not. I—umm.”
Drew was nuzzling her neck, just where she most liked it. She shivered—and not from the cold. Even after thirty years of marriage, she still craved her husband's touch.
But she must remember she had a house full of guests. “I thought I'd send them hunting in the dungeon. They—ohh.” Drew's fingers tweaked one of her nipples.
“Whatever for? They'll just find a lot of cobwebs—and perhaps a mouse or two.” His lips feathered over her throat while his clever fingers moved to her other nipple.
“Not if we hide things for them to discover.” That felt so good. “And I'll send Reggie along to take care of the m-mice.” But it would feel better naked. She tugged on his nightshirt. “Take this off.”
“Aren't you afraid I'll catch a chill?”
She heard the laughter in his voice. “No.” She tugged again. The damn man was not helping. “I'll keep you warm.”
“But you complained so vociferously about my cold feet.”
“Drew ...” She would teach him to tease her. She darted her hand up his leg and wrapped her fingers around—
“Ah.” His voice hitched. “Perhaps you are right.”
“Of course I am.” He was growing thicker and longer. She never ceased to be amazed by this organ. She stroked it, and he drew in a sharp breath, closing his eyes briefly.
“Yes, I am definitely too warm,” he said. “However, if you wish me to shed this annoying nightshirt, you'll have to let go.”
Venus sighed. This was fun—but it would be much more fun when they were skin to skin. “Very well.”
The second her fingers left him, he had his nightshirt over his head and sailing through the air. Her nightgown followed in short order—just as their door started to open.
“Tsk.” That was Mary's voice coming from the corridor.
“They're at it again, Timms, and at their age. We'll have to come back later.”
The door closed, and presumably Venus's maid and Drew's valet went away.
“Oh, dear, Mary will give me that look of hers when she comes in later.” Venus chewed her lip. “Perhaps we
should
get out of bed. What if our guests are up?”
“Then they can amuse themselves—and Mary gives you that look every morning.” Drew's hand was moving in a very interesting direction.
“Well, she does think it highly improper that we sleep in the same bed. You know it would suit her notion of my consequence much better if I used the duchess's bedroom and you only visited me occasionally.”
“Yes, but it wouldn't suit my notion of comfort. Damn consequence! I refuse to be Greycliffe when I'm in bed with my wife.” He kissed her belly and trailed his fingers lower.
Venus wiggled, panting slightly. Oh, just a little lower. A little ... yes, there. And then his tongue ...
It was still early. Most of their guests were used to London hours. She and Drew had time to—ohh.
This wouldn't take long; she was desperate for him. She tugged on his hair.
He grinned. “Impatient, dear duchess?”
“Yes.” She tugged again. “Very.”
Drew was most obliging. He knew exactly what she liked, and when he came over her and into her, she anticipated the explosive pleasure and yet was as thrilled as if it was her first time.
Well, more thrilled. She'd had no idea what to expect the first time. That had been outside on the hard ground, and it had hurt. She had to admit experience, a bed, and a closed door greatly improved things.
“Mmm.” She wrapped her arms around him. She never wanted to let him go.
“You are always a delight, my dear duchess.” He was a little breathless.
She smiled and kissed his cheek. The first time had been wonderful—if painful—but all the other times since had deepened and strengthened her bond with him. They had faced life side by side. They had gone through sickness and health together; they had shared the joys and worries of raising their sons. Drew knew her better than anyone else in the world—as she knew him.
He turned his head to meet her lips. “Tell Mary you are never sleeping anywhere but here with me.”
“I think she knows that after all these years.”
This was why she tried to help men and women find their match. This was what she wanted for her sons. Not the physical union—though that was lovely—but this deep sense of belonging to another, this feeling of home and family and connectedness.
Her emotions flooded her as they always did. “I love you, Drew.”
“And I love you.” Drew kissed her nose and rolled off onto his back. “I love you so much I will endure another day of these annoying people invading my home and my peace.”
She laughed and sat up. After the magic came the mundane. She needed to get busy. “Remember that, please. I'm afraid I may need your help more than I usually do this time.”
He groaned, throwing his arm over his eyes. “Why do I think this means I will have to involve myself in your matchmaking activities?”
“Because you are very astute.”
He moved his arm slightly to glare at her. “
You
are the Duchess of Love.”
She grinned back at him and hopped down from the bed. “And you are the Duke of Love.”
“I am not. The very thought is revolting.”
She scooped up her nightgown and slipped it over her head. “I'm not asking you to do very much.”
“Ha! I know you, Venus. You are going to make me work far more than I wish.” He pulled himself up to sit against the headboard, and she was momentarily distracted by his naked chest and shoulders and arms.
“And if you continue looking at me that way,” he said, “I'll be forced to haul you back into this bed and”—he waggled his brows—“show you exactly how much I
am
the Duke of Love.”
She laughed. “A vain threat. I know you can't do what we just did again so soon.”
He chose to look offended. “It's not very sporting of you to say so.” Then he grinned. “But you know I can still have you writhing and moaning.”
He could, too, and often had. “Don't you dare. I need to attend to our guests.”
“And I need to attend to their hostess.”
“You
have
attended to me.” She moved farther away from the bed to ensure she didn't fall victim to temptation. “Now please pull your mind from between the sheets. We need to discuss this party.”
Drew got out of bed to retrieve his nightshirt, and she admired his muscled arse before forcing herself to sit at her dressing table. Her hair looked like she'd been pulled backward through a bramble bush. She picked up her brush.
“You do have an odd assortment this year,” Drew said before he threw the nightshirt over his head. “I thought you planned these things carefully.”
“I do.” Venus sighed and looked in the mirror. Was that another gray hair? “I did. It's just that this group will take a little extra effort.”
“I'll say. That Humphrey fellow—”
Venus waved away Mr. Humphrey. “He is not the problem.”
“He is if Ellie decides to have him.” Drew grimaced. “What a thundering bore. You didn't really think he'd be a good match for her, did you?”
“Of course not. My plans are far more complicated than that. I invited Mr. Humphrey to serve a purpose.”
“And does he?”
“I'm not certain.” She met Drew's eyes in the mirror. “When one involves oneself in matters of the heart, nothing is clear.”
“That I can definitely agree with.” He frowned. “And why did you invite Lady Heldon? She's little more than a light-skirt, though I'll grant you that's never kept Ophelia off the guest list. But at least Ophelia limits herself to Percy. Lady Heldon looks to have designs on Ash”—his frown deepened to a scowl—“though what those designs could be is rather a mystery.”
“She has her purpose, too.”
“If you say so. You are far too deep a player for me. Just tell me what you want me to do.”
Venus put down her brush and turned to face him. “Keep an eye out for poor Jack. I'm afraid Miss Wharton
was
a mistake. She is far more desperate than I'd guessed.” And then she grinned. “And help me cut out and hide a dozen paper hearts.”
 
 
Ned frowned at his boots. He was sitting in the drawing room, waiting for the rest of the party to assemble so Mama could reveal the first activity of the day. And there
would
be an activity. Mama did not believe in letting people find their own amusements.
It would have to be something inside. There was no going out. The snow was still tumbling down in thick flakes which the howling wind slapped against the windows and swept into deep drifts.
He slid down on the settee. Why the hell had he chosen this piece of furniture? It was damned uncomfortable. He could sit anywhere he wanted; everyone else was still at breakfast.
He surveyed the available choices. The truth was all the seating options were uncomfortable since Mama had changed the furniture last year. He could switch to a stiff, straight-backed chair, but he should leave those for Jack and Ash. They were the ones seeking to keep females at a safe distance; Ned was supposed to be welcoming women. One particular woman—Lady Juliet.
He closed his eyes, trying to picture the girl, but the only female who popped into his mind was Ellie.
Damn those red drawers.
He'd come down early to give Mama the things Reggie had stolen. At first he'd thought to bring them to the drawing room himself and let their owners simply pick them up off a handy table, but then he remembered the salacious snuffbox and the false calf. The people who belonged to those items might appreciate some discretion. Not that Mama was the soul of that virtue, but it was her party and her thieving cat, so it was her problem.
But the silk drawers ... He knew whom those belonged to.
He shifted in his seat, but there was no comfortable position to be found.
Perhaps he should have given them to Mama with the rest of the articles. At least then they'd be out of his hands—and he'd had them in his hands rather more than he should have last night. There was something about the smooth, slippery silk—
Blast it, Ellie would be horrified if she knew he'd been fondling her underwear.
He
was horrified. He'd stuffed them into one of his cabinets as soon as he'd realized what he was doing.
How the hell was he going to give them back?
As though his thoughts conjured her, Ellie stepped through the doorway, stopping abruptly on the threshold when she saw him. She looked appalled, damn it. What had happened to their easy, comfortable friendship?
She glanced around the room as if looking for someone—anyone—else to speak to. When she observed they were the only two present, she lifted her chin and approached him.
She was wearing another long-sleeved, high-necked, unfashionable dark frock. The red drawers could
not
be hers.
But she'd admitted they were.
He'd risen when he'd seen her—he
was
a gentleman, though he wasn't feeling very gentlemanly at the moment. He gave her a curt bow. “Looking for Mr. Cox, Ellie? I'm afraid he must still be abed.”
She flushed and scowled at him. “I wasn't looking for Mr. Cox. I saw him in the breakfast room.”
“Mr. Humphrey, then?”
“No.” She sniffed. “Nor Percy or Jack or Ash or your father—and
certainly
not you.”
That hurt, but it also made him angry, and anger was a much safer emotion than ... whatever the hell he'd been feeling. “You are unpleasantly pert.”
“I don't believe I asked your opinion.”
He wanted to shake her; instead he clasped his hands behind his back and looked down his nose at her. “You are quite right—you didn't ask. I offered my opinion freely. And here's another bit of free advice—guard your possessions more closely.”

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