Page 34 of The Forsaken

A fresh jolt of lust streaked through him. Enraged with himself, he let drop the curtain. “Listen well and good, you harridan. As long as you put yourself in harm’s way in front of me, I’m honor-bound to deliver you—”

“I am not some parcel, you dolt.”

“To Culross.”

“You’re being impossible,” said an exasperated Andromena.

“No, what would be impossible is if I delivered you—”

“For the last time, I’m not a package.”

“To your birdbrain mother and got myself trapped into marrying you.”

Fire exploded on the bold, slashes of her cheekbones. “You smug thing. As if you are a grand catch. Nothing could bring me to wed you. Why, I’d rather marry…marry…”

This he had to hear. “Yes? Which horrid fiend would you choose over me?” Unfortunately, this also happened to be another one of those rare times where the lady forgot her words.

Worse yet, for the second time, her trembling mouth ruined it. This was the mouth he had sworn he wasn’t obsessing over—dangerous, full, bruised by his own kiss. Fine. He had obsessed a little. But the real disaster was the fresh, unmanageable tear she fought so hard to hide.

“Based on the way you linger, Andromena, the lady doth protest marriage to me, too much, methinks.”

His jibe worked. The woman’s eyes narrowed into angry slits, turning her soft look into a fierce glare.

He edged the curtain back.

Finally. Culross put in an appearance. Louis the Large, one of their more seasoned crewmen who stood in as guard and servant when they were on land, met his employer at the door.

Louis jabbed a finger back towards Kerr and Andromena’s hackney.

While the pair spoke, Culross haphazardly pulled a shirt on. He stuffed the long tails into his partially buttoned trousers.

That’s what had waylaid the bastard.

At least one of them had gotten his nob polished. If only Kerr had been in the mood with Susanna and Diane, then…

Andromena would have found herself ruined in all the ways he’d warned her about. And it isn’t Susanna and Diane you’ve got in your randy mind, the Devil in his head taunted.

Discomfited, he gave another look outside.

The last thing he needed was Culross catching sight of her mouth. It would take a single glance to know what had been at play. “Hood up.”

After she’d complied, he opened the door and jumped down, eager to get her out of his hair. When the chit made no move to take his hand, Kerr snatched her by the waist.

“Eek.” She steadied herself on her feet.

Culross looked the length of the yard and gave an order that sent a stable hand running. The earl, however, failed to move with any speed. He took the painstaking time of a valet to fix his clothes.

“What’s coming next?” Kerr cupped his hands around his mouth. “An invitation for tea and biscuits?”

Tea and biscuits didn’t come, but rather a dark wool evening jacket brandished by a young servant.

“He’s not a barbarian, Edgar.”

“Like me.” Wrong. Kerr and Culross both were. “At least dare to say the rest aloud.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” she pushed her covering off and batted her long, curved lashes at him. “Is that how you view yourself?”

“Given how close I am to shaking you, yes. Put your hood back on, unless you want Culross to see what we’ve been up to.”