Page 47 of The Earl and the Reluctant Lady
Chapter Fourteen
Fletcher kept to the shadows behind Agnes, lest she discover him following her. It was no secret that he was watching out for her while her brother was out of town, still he knew Agnes well enough to know she’d not like him acting her guardian. A small stick crunched beneath his boot and he was thankful for the shrubbery between them. He stilled.
And then he felt something decidedly sharp and cold against his throat. He looked down to find a fierce Agnes holding a dagger. Her chest rose and fell quickly with her rapid breaths.
“Holy hell, Agnes, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Fletcher!” she hissed. “Why are you following me?”
“Could you kindly remove your blade?” He used one hand to push hers away from his neck. He swallowed, then swore as he saw the blade. The weapon was small, obviously designed for a woman’s hand, though it wasn’t ornamental. “Where the devil did you get a weapon like that?”
She propped one leg out and pulled her skirts up to her knee.
His mouth went dry and he knew he should turn away from her, but he couldn’t. She yanked up the leg of her pantaloons, revealing a shapely leg encased in creamy stockings. This entire scenario should not have aroused him, yet he felt the distinct sensation of blood rushing to his groin. Excellent timing.
“I’ve always preferred a dagger, and this is the most logical mode of carrying one.” With that she returned the delicate blade to the sheath where it rested between her skin and her garter.
“You’re killing me, Bluebell,” he said, trying to shift his focus from his ridiculous growing erection. But damned if her whipping out a weapon wasn’t ridiculously sexy.
“It is challenging for women to be able to carry anything on the off chance they need to protect themselves. I design some, most in fans and jewelry, but I do not have any on me this evening.” She scanned the darkness around them. “I wasn’t expecting to find myself in a dangerous situation.”
“Do you normally?”
She bit down on her lip and shook her head. “No. But one can never be too careful.”
“Agnes, what are you not telling me?”
She eyed him, but said nothing, then merely shook her head.
“I can see it in your eyes. You’re hiding something. And you’re frightened.”
“You startled me,” she said.
He reached forward and gripped both of her arms, squeezed them gently, then rubbed his thumbs against her. “Please talk to me.”
She inhaled a shaky breath.
“Here is what we’re going to do. You’re going to go back inside and tell Glenbrook that you’re not feeling well and then I am going to see you home.” He tilted her chin up to face him. “But you are going to talk to me.”
She nodded, then did what he said. Ten minutes later, she’d returned to the entrance and he led her to a rig he’d secured. Once they were safely ensconced in the interior of the carriage, he prodded her again. “What has you so afraid?”
Again, she bit down on her lip, then slowly nodded. “I told you recently that I had a suitor I wished to deter, but I didn’t tell you anything specific. Partly because I don’t know who he is.”
“Pardon?”
“He’s anonymous. At least so far. He’s probably harmless, but he’s sent a couple of messages to my home and some flowers.”
“Bloody hell, Agnes, why didn’t tell me this before?”
“Honestly, I didn’t think too much of it, and I hadn’t even thought to be frightened by the ordeal until tonight standing out in the darkness alone. I’m certain it was merely my imagination.” She rubbed her thigh where he knew she’d hidden her dagger.
With one swift moment he pulled her to him, settling her onto his lap. He rubbed his hand up and down her back to soothe her. Slowly she relaxed against him and allowed him to comfort her.
He closed his eyes and recalled the sight of her shapely legs and that blade pressed against her thigh. He’d been so hard since then he feared he might spill himself in his trousers. And now he’d nestled her onto his lap.
He swore again, then crushed his lips to hers. His hungry kiss tore through her, pleading for everything she had to give. He continued kissing her, his mouth at times angry as he pressed into her. She clung to him as desire shook through her.
His mouth left hers and began raining kisses down her throat, across her collarbone and onto the gentle swell of her breasts. He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling deeply, desperately trying to forge her scent into his memory.
