Her Wicked Ways (28 page)

FOX found Mrs. Gates in the Gold Room overseeing the auctioned goods. Some were being paid for and taken this evening, while others would be delivered or collected the following day. Fox should have been helping with this endeavor, but he’d been too distracted by Miranda.

Mrs. Gates rushed forward, her forehead crinkling with concern. She smoothed a hand over Lisette’s brow. “Goodness, what’s happened child?”

“It’s Flora!” Tears coursed down Lisette’s cheeks. “She’s left with Mrs. Danforth.”

Mrs. Gates snapped her gaze to Fox. It had been years since she’d directed such an angry look at him. “I thought you told that woman to stay away.”

Fox was transported back to when he’d ruined a bucket of good apples by throwing them at a target he and another boy had set up in the orchard. Mrs. Gates had made him clean the library every day for a fortnight. Defensively, he said, “I did.” In a note. That Polly hadn’t responded to.

Lisette hiccupped. “Where’s Lady Miranda?”

She wasn’t behind him? Fox spun around to empty space, but saw Lord Saxton enter. Unease settled into Fox’s bones like an unpaid debt.

Saxton took that inopportune moment to overhear Lisette’s question. He strode further into the room. “I’m looking for her myself. Have you seen her?”

Lisette gulped air as she gawked up at Miranda’s brother. “Yes, she was just here.”

Fox shot Mrs. Gates a speaking glance. With a subtle nod, Mrs. Gates turned Lisette from the gentlemen and whispered something in her ear.

He turned to address Saxton. “She was with us in the ballroom. However, she’s gone to Stipple’s End with one of the girls who’s taken ill.” That would explain both Miranda’s and Flora’s absences for the rest of the night. He had no intention of letting either of them return.

The headmistress threw a look over her shoulder at Saxton. “My apologies, my lord. She’s very upset about her friend.”

Saxton’s pale blue eyes briefly widened. “You say Miranda left the party to care for a sick child? My sister, Miranda?” He studied Fox, the quirk of his mouth belying his skepticism.

Mrs. Gates allowed Lisette to turn back around, but held the girl close. “Yes, my lord. Miranda, that is, Lady Miranda has become very close to the girls. Indeed, we quite rely on her at Stipple’s End.”

Saxton cocked his head to the side. “I might not have believed this if I hadn’t heard you say it, ma’am. It appears people do change.”

Fox was growing irritated with this conversation. Not because it somehow demeaned Miranda—and he supposed it did—but because she was Lord-knew-where. Actually, Fox had a suspicion as to her location, and if he was right, he needed to get her out of there immediately.

Donning his most benign expression, Fox bowed to Mrs. Gates and Lisette. “I’ve some things to see to, if you’ll excuse me.” He was halfway to the door before he realized Saxton trailed him.
Dammit
.

“Foxcroft. I understand there’s a certain, ah establishment in the area where a gentleman might go…”

Fox then recalled Miranda’s brother had been sitting with Polly Danforth during the auction. If Miranda had gone to Polly’s, as Fox surmised, it was the absolute
last
place Saxton needed to be.

Fox paused outside the Gold Room, his mind churning for ways to dissuade the other man. “That would be Polly Danforth’s. It’s a bit early yet. Best time to go is around midnight.”

Saxton nodded. “Excellent. And how might I find this oasis of pleasure?”

“I presume your carriage is in the drive?”

“It should be if it isn’t at present,” Saxton said. “My coachman had to deliver Miranda’s things to Birch House.”

“I’ll give your coachman the direction.” Fox planned to conveniently forget.

“Brilliant. I suppose I’m for more of Stratham’s brandy then. He’s got a damn fine cellar.”

Because a displaced Frenchman in the next town over offered the brandy as a tribute, but let Saxton believe what he would. Fox had more pressing matters than calling out Stratham’s illegal behavior.

Fox bowed stiffly and took himself off. Thank God Miranda’s brother didn’t follow. Fox raced through the entry hall and out into the drive to…where his carriage was no longer parked.

“Hell’s teeth!”

A couple of coachmen who were standing nearby looked over at him. “What?”

“I need a horse.” Fox muttered the words and then repeated them much louder. “I need a horse!”

“Stable’s over there.” One of the coachmen gestured around the side of the manor where the gravel drive disappeared from view.

Fox sprinted in the designated direction and immediately swore. There was a reason these shoes were called dancing slippers. They were woefully inadequate for running or even walking fast. The rocks of the drive dug into the soft soles. He felt every edge of the ground as he sped toward the light of the stables.

Once he reached his destination, he paused a moment to take stock. A young groom brushed a horse while several animals were stabled.

Fox looked in the direction of the tack room, but there wasn’t time to saddle the beast. “Which is your fastest?”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” The carrot-topped lad stopped his work and gaped.

Fox tapped his hand against his thigh. “I have urgent need of a horse.”

The groom turned slightly, his brush-shod hand poised over the horse’s flank. “I suppose Gawain here’s as fast as any.” And as luck would have it, Gawain still had a bit in his mouth.

“Get the reins on, lad.” Fox swung himself up before the groom even moved. “Quickly, then!”

The boy dropped the brush in a bucket and ran to the tack room. Rushing back with the reins, he fastened them just as Fox reached down and plucked the supple leather from his hands.

“Thank you!” Fox called as he took the horse into the night, urging him into a canter. Within moments, his face blistered with the cold air. Stratham Hall’s grounds vanished beneath him as he drove the horse faster.

A scant quarter hour later, he turned up Polly’s drive. Situated in a wooded parkland, the house sat completely isolated from any surrounding property and from the main road. He galloped to the front of the house and jumped from Gawain’s back before the horse had come to a full stop. He tossed the reins to Barton, Polly’s head groom.

Light leaked from the windows and shone against the man’s bald pate. “’Evening there, Fox. Been quite awhile since we seen ye here.”

Fox had no time for pleasantries. It was after eleven. If he didn’t get Miranda out of there before her brother showed up, assuming he found directions…Christ, it didn’t bear thinking about. “I’m looking for a young blond woman who would have just arrived. Or for Polly and a girl she brought here. All of them, actually.”

Barton let out a low whistle. “The blonde got here maybe ten minutes ago. Just took her landau—say, I thought it looked familiar, but you only brought it here the one time…” He rubbed his smooth head.

“And Polly?”

“Blonde was looking for her, too. She got here a bit ago, but I don’t know if she had anyone with her. She took her coach to the rear door. Sorry, Fox. Try her office, maybe?”

“Thanks.” Fox leapt up the steps and paused at the threshold, taking a moment to compose himself.

A footman in scarlet livery swept the door open. His expression seemed carved in stone, completely disinterested.

Fox moved into the empty foyer, expecting to see Miranda immediately, but instead saw no one save the doorman. Where could she be? Polly’s office? Taking Barton’s advice, he made his way upstairs to Polly’s sitting room office.

Flickering candles illuminated the floral wallpaper of the corridor. Polly’s office was to the left.

Suddenly a flash of green appeared at the end of the hallway. Fox took off at a dead run and grabbed Miranda by the elbow.

“You little fool! What the hell are you doing?”

Miranda tried to shake his grasp away. “Looking for Flora, of course. It’s a good thing, too, since it took you so long to get here.” Her aqua eyes flashed up at him.

Fox gripped her more firmly. “I might’ve come sooner if someone hadn’t taken my transportation. Nonetheless, your earlier arrival seems to have benefited…nothing.” He spat the last, anger overtaking every other emotion. “You need to get out of here. I’m putting you back in my landau, and you’re going directly to Birch House.”

“I’m not leaving without Flora.” She planted her feet in the carpet. Fox pulled her arm, and she went sprawling against him.

He ignored the delicious sensation of her pressed against his chest and set her away. “I’ll take care of Flora.” Realizing the volume of his voice did nothing to disguise their presence, Fox took a deep breath to calm himself. “Can’t you see this is no place for you?”

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I begin to understand why your family shipped you to the country,
and
why they are so desperate to marry you off. You’re the most reckless, headstrong—”

Fox froze as he heard a click, like a door opening or closing. Moving quickly, he opened the nearest door and shoved Miranda inside. He stepped in after her and shut them in a room the size of a closet.

Candlelight shone from a small window cut into one wall. On the other side was another, much larger room. With a bed in the middle. On the bed…
holy shit
.

A woman sucking a man’s cock.

Fox dared to look at Miranda. She stared straight ahead. At the couple on the bed. Pressed against her side, Fox realized they’d have more room if he stood behind her. He heard the distinct sound of footfalls outside the door, but after that he heard nothing save the sounds of sex and the deafening roar of his blood pounding from his head directly down to his hardening cock.

Sanity told him to flee, but desire kept him rooted to the floor. Miranda swayed back against him, and his mind completely shut down in favor of his body.

Chapter Fourteen

MIRANDA couldn’t believe what she was seeing. One of the scullery maids at Benfield had given her a verbal education about what occurred between men and women in the bedroom but hearing about the act didn’t compare to seeing it.

The man knelt on the bed, in profile. Candles flickered around the room, throwing light on his bare, muscled chest. One of his hands tangled in the woman’s dark blond hair. She kneeled also, but bent at the waist. Her mouth moved up and down over his shaft, her tongue darting out at intervals. At one point she laved the tip of his penis, and the man groaned. The woman’s hips undulated, and he stroked his hand down her neck, splaying his fingers over her shoulder blade. He moved against her mouth, urging her to take his entire length.

Miranda heard their erratic breathing. Or was that hers?

The room was tiny, probably only intended for one person. As a result, Fox pressed against her back, his heat burning through her gown to scorch her flesh. She couldn’t see his face, which only served to heighten her senses.

A hunger started in the pit of her belly, moved lower. Desire dampened her thighs until she wanted to press her hand between her legs to appease the desperate need growing there.

The man on the bed guided the woman up until she faced him on her knees. He brushed her hair away from her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples. Miranda’s hardened in response.

The woman cast her head back, her long, pale hair floating down her back, grazing her behind. He cupped her breasts, lifted them, blew on the rosy circles at their tips. Miranda felt as if she were sinking into a state of semi-consciousness. Her breasts swelled. She leaned back against Fox, seeking whatever surcease he might give her.

Fox slid his hands under her arms and skimmed them up her ribcage, settling them beneath her breasts.

Miranda took a slow, deep breath. Would he give her what she craved? What if they were caught?

The man on the bed licked the woman’s breast. She moaned, her hands moving between her thighs.

Fox cupped Miranda, then moved his palms up over her aching nipples. She rested her head back against his chest, arching the column of her throat, but maintaining her view of the couple on the bed. Fox’s breath rushed against her ear, the side of her face. The sound was deeply erotic.