C hastity had been certain she couldn’t make matters any worse, but now, riding in a darkened carriage at 3 a.m., she wasn't so sure. Her father’s stablemaster, John, accompanied her. The man had served them fifteen years, and was an honest and good man.

They passed a parked carriage, then, a moment later, the carriage came to a halt.

The vehicle shifted and, in the next instant, John opened the door. Chastity gave her hand to him and descended from the coach, her eyes on the Dorring’s mansion. The place was completely dark. In the moonless night, some small light should indicate that at least a small fire burned in some of the rooms.

Chastity frowned. Surely Mr. Dorring couldn’t be sleeping the hour before he was to meet Sir Stirling for a duel? Had he fled? She mouthed a quick prayer that their problems would be solved so easily—and promised absolute obedience from now on, if God granted such salvation.

"Please wait," Chastity told the driver. "Come along, John." She started up the walkway.

They reached the door and she lifted the heavy knocker and knocked three times. Bootfalls on the walkway behind them drew her attention. She turned as aman hurried toward them. Chastity squinted in the darkness to discern the approaching stranger’s identity. Something familiar niggled. He neared them and John stepped in front of her.

"For God's sake, Chastity, what are you doing here?"

“Sir Stirling?” She slipped past John.

He climbed the first stair, but John stepped toward him.

"Never mind, John." Chastity stopped as Sir Stirling climbed the next two steps. He grasped her arm and started down the stairs. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Taking you home, where you belong."

She tried to yank free, but his grip tightened. "I have no intention of going home until you agree to forget this ridiculous duel."

He ignored her and kept walking.

Chastity looked over her shoulder. "John, quickly come here."

"By God, Chastity, if you make me fight your manservant, I will take you over my knee and paddle your pretty behind."

Chastity yanked her gaze onto him. "You wouldn't dare."

He gave a mirthless laugh." Not only would I dare, I would do so with relish. Now call off your bulldog."

"He is not my bulldog. He is my protector. And I need protecting."

Sir Stirling barked a laugh. "It is I who need protection from you." Sir Stirling whirled. "Stay right there, lad," he said to John, who halted two paces away. "As you know, I am the lady’s fiancé. Now, I am taking her home."

"You are taking me home?" Chastity asked.

He cast her a look she couldn't discern in the dim light. "You would like that. Nae, your protector will escort you home. Come along, protector, you will return home with Lady Chastity."

"Do not listen to him, John," she said. "You are to stay here with me."

"Well, what's it to be, John?" Sir Stirling asked.

"I must do as Lady Chastity commands," John replied.

"Then I shall have to fight you. I promise to go easy on you because I understand you are doing only what your mistress commands you to do."

"You're mad," Chastity said. "First you challenge Mr. Dorring a duel, then you would fight John. Is this how you live your life, sir? For I must tell you, you are a barbarian."

"Forgive me, my lady, but I must point out that both these instances are your doing."

She started to reply, then stopped. He was right. "I beg you, do not duel with Mr. Dorring." Chastity’s thought skidded to a halt. Why was she arguing? The house was dark. It was clear no one was home. The coward had fled. Still, if she was wrong, she would never forgive herself if anything happened to Sir Stirling. A thought occurred to her.

"I will leave, if you leave."

"Will you now?"

Something in his tone gave her pause.

"Do not move from the spot." Without waiting for a reply, he released her and strode in the direction of the other coach parked down the street. He reached the other coach, opened the door and said something in low tones, then returned to where she stood. He grasped her arm and started forward.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home.”

“This isn’t at all what I had in mind.”

“Then I suggest that the next time you be more precise.”

They reached the coach and Sir Stirling said to the driver as he opened the door, “Sir, when this door closes, you are to return to the lady’s home with all speed. I will pay you double your fare.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but swung her into his arms and stepped inside the carriage.

“Have you lost your mind?” she cried as he dropped onto the seat.

She was immediately aware of the hard thighs beneath her bottom and a dizzying current swept through her. He crushed her to his chest and held her with one arm while he pulled the door shut with the other, which left them in murky darkness. The coach lurched into motion.

"Release me," she demanded. To her surprise, he lifted her from his lap and tossed her onto the opposite cushion. She bounced and listed to the left but caught herself with her hand and righted herself. "I will not tolerate this sort of behavior in a husband,” she snapped.

"And I should tolerate this sort of behavior in a wife?"

She wanted to reply but, for the first time in her life, words failed her. "Forget the duel, Sir Stirling. It is likely he has fled. The house is dark. No one was home."

"Then you have nothing to fear."

She fell silent for a long moment, then said, "I cannot allow you to be killed on my account."

He didn't reply. She thought perhaps he didn't intend to. Then he said, "Wouldn't that solve your problems?"

She snorted. "Indeed, it would. But I am not that heartless."

They both fell silent again for several heartbeats.

"Why would you defend my honor after…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"A man always defends his fiancée’s honor."

“Do you really want to be a duke so badly that you would marry a woman who tried to discredit you?"

He frowned. "Discredit me? You know very little about men if you think something as mundane as bedding a woman can discredit him."

She stiffened. “I see.”

"You don't see, at all. At worst, had your plan worked, your father would have called off our engagement. You weren't really trying to hurt me. You have simply set your mind against our marriage."

She experienced an irrational desire to stick her tongue out at him. "Are you always so unreasonably reasonable?"

He laughed the same laugh she'd grown accustomed to, and she tried to ignore the warmth that spread through her. "It's a curse," he said.

“Are you saying that you didn't take advantage of the situation with Mrs. Dorring?" she asked.

"I believe all of ten minutes passed between the time I found her and the time I discovered you with Dorring. Perhaps we have hit upon the reason you don't want to marry me."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

“If you think I spend no more than ten minutes in a lady’s company before we part ways, then I can see why you would find me an undesirable husband.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her face flushed. She did know what he meant.

“Perhaps I have made a mistake in not showing you one of the biggest advantages in being my wife.”

“What—”

He shifted and she started when he grasped her waist and she once again found herself sitting across his hard thighs.

“Sir Stirling—”

He pulled her against his chest. “Am I really such an ogre?” he asked.

His warm breath bathed her cheek. Her heart jumped to a gallop.

“Have I no redeeming qualities?” he murmured.

Her mind muddled. She hadn’t been this close to a man since she’d eloped with Lord Everston. Sir Stirling shifted and she realized he intended to kiss her. Chastity froze when his lips brushed hers. He gently grasped her neck and stroked her ear with his thumb. A shiver slid down the back of her neck and across her shoulders when his mouth fully covered hers.

Dangerous, her mind whispered.

Chastity fisted his lapel as his mouth moved on hers. She noted the bulge that pressed against her hip. Surely, lust hadn’t affected him so quickly? He broke the kiss and pressed his lips to her ear. She shivered. His mouth closed around her lobe and he nibbled. The carriage jostled and she bumped his hard length. He drew in a sharp breath. He bit down a little harder on her ear.

Lord, she’d never felt anything so decadent. Lord Everston was a skilled lover—or so she’d thought—but he hadn’t made her tremble by merely nibbling on her ear. Nibbling on her ear? The idea seemed somehow indecent. And why not? The way he made her feel was indecent. Her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of her corset. His mouth slid down her neck to her shoulder. He tugged one sleeve down and she started when his mouth made contact with the rise of her breast.

This was improper and she should put a stop to it. But her mind remained frozen as his tongue slipped below the edge of her corset and flicked her nipple. His breath tickled the sensitive flesh, causing shivers to race down her abdomen straight to the juncture between her legs. The hand cupping her neck slid around her neck and started downward. Her heart beat faster as his fingers molded to her curves in their downward trek. The private place between her legs tightened. She couldn’t believe it when he reached her stomach. The warmth of his palm penetrated the fabric of her dress and petticoat. He inched her dress upward.

“Good Lord,” she breathed when cool air washed over her legs—then her thighs. “This is not proper.”

“Nae, my lady, it isn’t,” he murmured against her breast.

His fingers brushed her thigh and she started.

He lifted his head an inch from her breast and said, “I will not hurt you.”

Hurt her? That she didn’t fear. It was the riotous feelings flooding her.

His fingers reached her abdomen and she tensed. He drew slow, light circles. The tension in her shoulders eased, though she couldn’t think past the flick of his tongue against her nipple. What was he doing? Her mind snapped onto the finger that slipped into the curls below her belly button. She drew a stuttered breath as the digit dipped into the moist heat and brushed her sex.

Chastity drew a sharp breath when he gently massaged her. Sweet God, he was casting some sort of spell on her. She understood well enough how to pleasure herself—but she hadn’t known a man could make her feel this way. Desire streaked through her when he flicked his tongue against her nipple as he massaged her faster. She buried her face in his neck and breathed deep of his scent. Her head spun and she couldn’t refrain from arching into his finger. A sudden tide of pleasure washed over her. Chastity cried out and light flashed beneath her eyelids.

Her mind registered his groan and she vaguely wondered how she would ever look him in the eye again.  

 

 

A short while later, Sir Stirling kept Chastity close at his side as they walked from the carriage toward Gledstone Hall. Once out of earshot of the driver, he said, “I assume we would do better to enter through the kitchen?”

She nodded, and he veered right. They continued around the house to the rear door. He allowed her to precede him up the four steps and into the empty kitchen. They were lucky that Cook wasn’t up yet.

He grasped her arm and turned her to face him. “Can I trust you to stay here and not venture out again?”

“Can I trust you not to fight duels?” she countered.

He grinned and she resisted the urge to smile back. The man’s humor was contagious.

“You must trust me on this, Chastity. I know what I’m doing.”

“If you are shot—”

“Your problems will be solved,” he cut in. His eyes twinkled.

Her cheeks flushed hot, but embarrassment gave way to pique. “This is exactly what I feared. You will laugh at me every time we speak.”

“I am not laughing at you, love. I am wooing you.”

She blinked. “Wooing? You look for every opportunity to drive me to distraction.”

“Exactly,” he said, and before she realized his intent, he pushed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers.

He kissed her and her head spun at the press of his hard length against her abdomen. He broke the kiss, then turned and strode the three paces to the door. He reached the first step, then paused in closing the door, and said, “Do not force me into action by gainsaying me in this matter, Chastity. Contrary to what you think, I will not be your jailer. But neither will I allow you to interfere in matters that you know nothing of. I will see you at the church later today.” He gave her no chance to reply, but closed the door.

Chastity stared at the door. Good Lord. With her mind on the duel, she’d forgotten that she was to marry in a few hours.