Bronwyn Scott's Sexy Regency Bundle (263 page)

78

The Viscount Claims His Bride

She was poised to ask another question. Valerian raised himself up on one arm. 'This is neither the time nor the place for such an inquisition, Philippa.

There is not room enough in this bed for anyone else you'd care to drag in here.

'However, since you have raised the topic, I will tell you this-I was not a monk those nine years, but most likely the reports of my licentious behaviour were greatly overestimated. Those women meant nothing. They were a poor excuse to forget what had happened in England. They wanted my body and they understood that was all they'd ever get from me.

My heart was engaged elsewhere-with you-and it always has been. I'd prefer to put paid to that part of my life.'

smiled her assent. 'I didn't mean to pry.

I was curious. That was all.' She blushed and looked away. 'I never knew. . . she stammered, shy in her embarrassment.

'Not with Lucien?' Valerian knew he was pressing her, but he had to know. She'd had her inquisition and he had things he needed to know too.

She shook her head. 'No, Lucien and I have never been together and Cambourne.. .well, that is to say, Cambourne and I didn't achieve. . .

Valerian pressed a forefinger to her lips.

You

needn't say any more.' He understood perfectly what she meant and it thrilled him, deep down in some primal core of his being, that while he hadn't been the first, he'd been the one to bring her true pleasure.

And he'd be the last. If he'd had any doubts on that score, he would have used a sheath to prevent a child.

Scott

The Jezebel! Lucien Canton was furious. The man standing in his office at the Provincial Bank of looked away anxiously and Lucien tried to remember it was bad form to

the messenger.

It was not the messenger's fault that had

not been at Cambourne Hall when he'd

to

deliver the note. It was not the messenger's fault that he'd followed her to St Just-in-Roseland and caught her in what seemed an obvious case of with her hand on the viscount's

bloody cock. The messenger had assured him the little moment had been done in privacy and good taste. He'd been the only one to see them. Such assurances didn't change the fact that Lucien wanted to hit someone and since

Inglemoore wasn't

available at present, the messenger just might do after all.

Everything had been going well. He should have known that was when the bottom usually dropped out from beneath you.

had rejected his marriage

proposal out of hand so that she could go traipsing around

with the viscount. Good lord, she'd

been seen at a peasants' fair fondling the man's private parts. It didn't matter that the messenger had been full of assurances that no one else had seen them. They'd been discreet. She'd refused his proposal because she'd felt he'd had nothing to offer her. That was about to change. She would discover shortly he had something she wanted quite desperately.

He would not be played as the cuckolded suitor.

180

The Viscount Claims His Bride

Everyone in London knew he'd been her strong right arm these past years. Everyone expected something to come of it. His reputation would suffer if he out to be nothing more than Lady Cambourne's jilt, to say nothing of his finances when the bank's board of trustees understood that he did not control the Cambourne mining interests.

He would confront St Just with his treason, force to barter for the man's freedom and then make sure there would be no happy ever after for them. St Just would not forgive

if he

believed it was by her hand that such treasonous issues had been brought up. Fortunately, Lucien had the letter to infer such a thing. He would have his bank, his revenge and a wife too. Not a day would go by that

wouldn't be reminded of the

favours he'd done for her and how much she owed him. He would start by going to her as a wolf in sheep's clothing.

sat in the small sitting room she'd com-mandeered as a lady's parlour at the back of the house. The windows gave her a view of the back terrace where she could watch the men working on the new flower beds Valerian had designed. She could look up from her writing at the elegant escritoire Valerian had moved in there for her and see him at his labours on the lawn. All in all, it was a very domes tic arrangement.

She was seldom disturbed in this room. She used it primarily

was out, as he was today,

working in the ravine garden on the edge of the