The Naked Viscount Read Free Page B

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    â€œI’m not going to blab about…about what we were doing,” she said. “Are you?”
    â€œNo, of course not.” He had to stop staring at her br—chest. He jerked his attention back to her face. “I am not a complete idiot.”
    â€œWell, then, there you are.” Jane frowned. She was suddenly feeling very out of sorts. Here she’d just had the most wonderful experience of her life with the man she’d dreamed of for years, and the fellow acted as if he could hardly bear to look at her. He’d turned as prim and proper as…as her stiff-rumped brother John.
    John, thankfully, was not in London with them this Season. He’d gone off to Baron Tynweith’s estate. Odd, since the baron’s parties were often disreputable, but John had said something about topiary when he’d left the Priory. Plants were John’s passion—unlike Stephen, his only passion.
    What was Lord Motton’s passion?
    Mmm. She’d like to taste a little more of his passion. Her dreams had not come close to the reality of it. Unfortunately, the man did not look at all willing to repeat his thrilling performance.
    And now that she looked at him—really looked at him—she saw he was dressed most peculiarly. Every article of clothing he wore was black—black shirt, black cravat, black breeches, black stockings—and he had dispensed with a coat and waistcoat. Well, she’d vaguely noted those omissions when she’d been plastered up against him.
    It was almost as if he wished to blend into the shadows. Why? More to the point, why was he here at all and how had he gotten in? Mr. Hunt, the butler, was at Mrs. Brindle’s party.
    He kept looking down at her chest. Had she spilled chocolate there, too, when she’d had her accident with her wrapper this morning? She looked down.
    Oh.
    She darted behind one of the wing chairs. Thank God its back was high and she was not terribly tall. Damnation, if Lord Motton was truly a gentleman, he’d offer her his coat…he didn’t have a coat…oh, bother.
    He bowed briefly and cleared his throat. “Ahem, well, I must be going. Do pardon my intrusion. And, of course, my apologies for the…” He waved his hand vaguely. “For my behavior.” He looked ready to go out the window.
    Well, that answered the question of how he’d gotten in, but he certainly wasn’t leaving before she got some answers.
    She leapt back out from behind the chair and grabbed his arm. “Wait! You must tell me why you’re here.”
    He frowned at her. “Miss Parker-Roth, please control yourself.”
    He sounded far too much like John. She considered uttering one of the very improper words she’d learned from Stephen, but she restrained herself. “I’ll make you tell me.”
    He snorted, shook off her grasp, and turned. She latched onto the back of his shirt.
    â€œWill you stop—”
    â€œI have two older brothers, a younger brother, and two younger sisters. I know all about blackmail and coercion.”
    He didn’t even bother to reply; he just pulled her hand off his shirt and kept going. She hurried after him, out through the French window onto the terrace.
    â€œI’ll tell your aunts what happened here tonight.”
    That got him to pause. “You wouldn’t. You’d ruin yourself.”
    â€œNot if I tell your aunt Winifred— she’s not such a high stickler. I saw her arrive today with Theo and Edmund. Oh!” Jane covered her mouth with her hand, but her snicker still escaped. “She named the monkey after you, didn’t she?”
    Lord Motton sighed. Surely Miss Parker-Roth would not be so bold as to tell Winifred about this evening? If she did…well, Aunt Winifred was awake on every suit. She would immediately see a golden opportunity to push him into parson’s mousetrap. And she would be right—he would be