Sally MacKenzie Bundle by Sally Mackenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

can a gentleman be naked in a manner of speaking? ”
    Lizzie would not meet the older woman’s eyes. “It was dark.” After Robbie snuffed the candles. “I really didn’t see….” Enough.
    Lady Bea narrowed her eyes. “Immaterial. He was naked and in your room. He has to wed you. I am astounded that he did not propose the moment the door closed behind me. If word of this gets out—”
    “Word won’t get out.”
    “Word always gets out. Granted, only Lord Peter saw Westbrooke enter your window, and I suppose it could be argued he was mistaken since no one actually witnessed the earl with you, but still, as they say, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
    Meg nodded. “And Felicity will stoke the flames.”
    “No, I don’t believe she will in this case.” Lady Bea arranged her ample form in the upholstered chair by the fireplace. “She clearly wants Westbrooke for herself—just as he clearly does not want her. I expect he will offer for you this morning, Lizzie, so you must get dressed and go out. One would hope that he would address me first, as I am your chaperone, but given the fact that he has known you since infancy and is one of your brother’s closest friends, I doubt he will stand on ceremony.”
    Lizzie rubbed her suddenly wet palms on her nightgown.
    “Do you really think he will offer for me?”
    “How can he not? He has compromised you quite spectacularly. Of course he will offer. He is probably searching the estate for you now.”
    The thought of Robbie looking for her made her feel amazingly better.
    Damn.
    Robbie dodged behind a topiary bear. He’d taken a brisk walk around Lendal Park, searching for his equilibrium. He still had a number of days to live through this blasted house party. He couldn’t be trying to strangle Tynweith’s guests every time they mentioned Lizzie’s name—though Lord Peter had done far more than that. He forced his fists to relax. Every time he thought of the scene in the breakfast parlor, he wanted to hit something, preferably Lord Peter’s face. He would love to reorder his features. He would be doing the women of the world a favor, making Lord Peter’s countenance reflect the ugliness of his character.
    He’d hoped to make it back to the house without encountering anyone wishing to discuss last night’s unusual activities, and here was Lizzie, not twenty feet away, examining an oddly shaped bush. Sunlight filtered through her thin muslin gown, outlining her long legs. God. He rubbed suddenly damp palms on his breeches. Muslin should be outlawed or at least restricted to darkened areas, free of revealing sunbeams.
    He had not slept well. He’d been haunted by dreams of Lizzie’s white skin, her lovely small breasts and delicate pink nipples, her golden hair— all of it, curling over her shoulders, around her breasts, sweeping the curve of her lower back…and the separate patch nestling between her thighs.
    He was going to spill his seed in Tynweith’s blasted garden if he didn’t think of something else immediately.
    Escape. That was it. He needed to get back to his room undetected. He’d chosen this route because it went through one of the less popular gardens—Tynweith had actually discouraged the ladies from exploring it, telling them it was not suitable for their finer sensibilities. Why hadn’t Lizzie taken the hint and avoided the place?
    He would just have to choose a circuitous route to his room. He peered around the other side of the bear.
    Double damn. Lady Felicity, hands on hips, scanned the hedges. Her nostrils flared.
    God, was she a hound that she could sniff him out?
    What was so bloody attractive about the shrubbery today? This garden was sadly overgrown. The bear he was hiding behind, for instance. It definitely needed a trimming. Just look at…
    Robbie’s jaw dropped. The bear was not a bear at all, but a very large woman. A very large, very enceinte, very naked woman doing some very odd things with her bushy