Miss Quinn's Quandary by Shirley Marks Page A

took form in the
darkness once he heard her voice. “You have a talent for appearing in the most
unfortunate of places.”
    “It is you, sir, who apparently possesses the uncanny timing,”
Larissa returned. “For it was Lord Fenton I wished to surprise, not you.”
    “It is Lady Dorothea I seek. We somehow managed to lose one
another.” He glanced around, squinting to aid his vision.
    “If you will be so kind as to release me, I shall be on my way
and you can be on yours.”
    “Indeed. For this is not a place for the innocent, or they should
not be innocent for long.” Jumping from the bushes and assaulting him was not
the act of an innocent. His initial shock had melted into a complacent ardor.
    The feel of Larissa’s softness, her scent, arose from his dreams
and now penetrated his senses. She was like a dream. He caressed her face with
a look. “Are you quite sure you wish to leave so soon?” Randall caught
Larissa’s arm when she turned to leave.
    “If you’re trying to f-frighten me, it’s a rather p-poor attempt,”
Larissa said, holding her chin high, pulling free from his grasp. She knelt and
retrieved her shawl that had slid to the ground.
    Randall had the urge to show her exactly what there was to be
afraid of. He wanted to pull her into his arms and make her breathless with
kisses. Instead he watched her gather her skirts and run down the darkened path
into the brightly lit area beyond the temple.
    Randall glanced up and stared at the crescent moon, which alone
kept him company. Larissa had surprised him. And, unlike Larissa, after the
first few seconds he knew exactly who he held in his arms.
    In place of the innocence he had sensed on their first kiss, he
felt something different. She did not respond as an experienced woman, he felt
a hunger, a searching need in her kiss.
    Climbing the temple steps, he returned to the gardens. Shrouded
under the shadow of an arch stood Lady Dorothea. Randall waved, catching her
attention, and made straight for her.
    “Where have you been, Sir Randall?” Dorothea cooed.
    “Where have I been, indeed. Where have
you been? I thought you had disappeared.”
    “Disappeared? Such nonsense.” She laughed. The wide smile faded
and her voice grew soft into a whisper. “Are you wanting me, then?”
    Randall’s eyes shot open in surprise. His breath caught in his
throat, almost choking him. Dorothea could not have meant what Randall thought
she meant.
    How easy it would be to step behind the triumphal arch with her.
Hidden from public view, he could take her into his arms and …
    He stopped his thoughts from continuing down that lascivious
lane. If it were not for his amorous predisposition, no doubt caused by the
incident with Larissa, Randall would not have interpreted Dorothea’s statement
in such a suggestive fashion. How could Randall think a lady such as she was
capable of such duplicity?
    Larissa collapsed against one of the columns at a distance from
where she had discovered Sir Randall. Why, of all people, did it have to be
him? She should have known who he was the moment their lips met. The familiar
touch of his hand on her cheek, the familiar smell of spice, the familiar feel
of his body brought back such pleasant memories.
    She walked down the nearest path. After several minutes she
arrived at the supper boxes. Larissa pulled up short upon hearing her aunt’s
voice pierce the surrounding music.
    “You want us to marry tomorrow? Why, Rushton, that’s impossible.”
    The earl chuckled. “Not so impossible, my dear. I secured a
special license the day I met you.” Larissa moved closer and saw Rushton press
Ivy’s hands within his. “I need not tell you I am not a young man. But I can
assure you, the love I feel in my heart for you is not diminished by age.” The
earl gazed into Ivy’s face, his eyes twinkling.
    “Oh, Rushton,” Ivy blushed. “You are far too hasty in your
actions. I cannot think.”
    411 enjoy it when you do not think,” the earl