The Viscount's Kiss by Margaret Moore Read Free Book Online Page B

breast through her pelisse and gown.
    Her breathing quickening, her body warming, she slipped her hand under his shirt, feeling his heated skin, the muscles bunching beneath. She had never been this intimate with a man, had never wanted to be, but every part of her mind urged her to tear off his shirt and press her lips to his naked skin.
    She began to bunch the tail of his shirt in her hands and lift it until, with a gasp, he broke the kiss and stepped back, his eyes wide in the dawning light.
    His chest heaving, his brow furrowed with scholarly concentration. “Once again, forgive me. Being a civilized human being, I should be able to overcome my primal urges.”
    His primal urges? This time, she had been the one to act upon hers.
    He put his hand on the latch. “I wish you well, my lady.”
    â€œAnd I, you, my lord,” she whispered as he slipped out of the room.
    Â 
    Nell moved away from the door toward the bed. She had never been more ashamed, not even when she was stealing from Lord Sturmpole.
    What came over her when she was with Lord Bromwell? How could she behave with such wanton disregard for the risk she was taking, and that his fame engendered?
    She had barely sat on the end of the bed before Mrs.Jenkins blew into the room carrying a steaming pitcher of hot water.
    â€œGood morning,” she said as she set it on the washstand. “All ready for an early start, I see. It’s a fine day for travelling, I must say. Breakfast will be ready shortly. I’ll just make up the bed, if you don’t mind.”
    Nell quickly went to wash.
    â€œQuite a fine fellow, isn’t he?” Mrs. Jenkins asked.
    â€œWho?” Nell asked, although she was sure she knew to whom Mrs. Jenkins referred.
    â€œWhy, Lord Bromwell, o’ course,” the woman replied as she plumped the pillow. “You’re a very lucky woman, my dear.”
    â€œWe were fortunate he was with us with the coach overturned. We might have worsened Thompkins’s injuries if he’d not been there to tell us not to move him.”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant. I wasn’t born yesterday, my dear,” the innkeeper’s wife replied.
    â€œHe’s never brought a woman here before, though, nor have any of his friends,” she continued as she worked, “and a fine lot of scoundrels they can be, or so I’ve heard, all but the lawyer. He’s as grim as a ghost, that one. Hard to believe he’s married now, but then, I’d have said I’d never see the day Lord Bromwell would bring his—”
    â€œI fear you’re under a misapprehension, Mrs. Jenkins,” Nell interjected, wondering why she’d let the woman go on for so long. “Lord Bromwell didn’t bring me and I am not his anything. I was merely a passenger in the same coach.”
    Again, Mrs. Jenkins straightened, but this time she frowned. “Say what you like, my girl, but the floors creak something fierce. You weren’t alone in this room.”
    â€œI was upset after the accident and couldn’t sleep. You simply heard me moving about. By myself.”
    Mrs. Jenkins shook her head. “There’s no point lying to me. I’ve never seen Lord Bromwell look at anything the way he looked at you last night, ’cept the time he caught the biggest spider I ever laid eyes on in the stable.”
    â€œI hardly think it’s a compliment or a sign of affection if he regards me as he would a spider,” Nell retorted in her best imitation of a haughty young lady. “If indeed, he does regard me with anything more than mild interest.”
    â€œYou sound just like him, too, when he’s going on about his spiders,” Mrs. Jenkins said with a sigh, apparently not the least put off by Nell’s imperious manner. “Can’t follow the half of it. He’s got a lovely voice, though, ain’t he?”
    He did, but Nell wasn’t going to agree in case the