To Love a Wicked Lord by Edith Layton

herself,” he said. He cast down his cigarillo and ground it under his boot. “So what are you going to do?”
    â€œIf more than her speech changes I may have difficulty,” she said. “But now? It doesn’t matter what Society thinks of me. I’m not coming out on the Town. My grandfather’s reputation matters, but he’s secure in that whatever she says. So I’ll go on until I know what happened to Noel.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know. If it turns out he wanted to be free of me, then he is. If it transpires that he wants to continue our engagement, I’m not sure I will unless there’s good reason for his disappearance. And if he was harmed, or held captive, or is dead, I’ll decide upon the circumstance.”
    â€œAnd so you’re alone even if you do find him,” he said.
    She nodded, unable to speak against the huge lump she suddenly felt rising, clogging her throat.
    He stepped near, and then nearer still. She turned and raised her head to try to see his expression. She scented wine and tobacco and leather, and unconsciously took a step closer to him because she was alone and he was the only real and whole and warm thing in the strangeness of this new and limitless night.
    He lightly laced his hands behind her neck and bent to touch his forehead to hers. She was stunned into absolute passivity. He cupped his hands around her head, his two thumbs stroking her cheeks.
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said as softly as the night around them.
    She tried to think of what to say, but then felt his fingers playing with a small stray coil of hair at the side of her face and swallowed hard and closed her eyes, thinking of nothing but the sensation of it.
    â€œSilk,” he whispered, and on the dying sibilance of the word, brought his lips to hers.
    She stayed still. His kiss was astonishing. It was comforting and startling, warm and sweet all at once. Unknowing, uncaring, she moved closer and opened her mouth against his. Their kiss deepened. Her breathing grew ragged even as her body reacted to the warm strength of the man.
    It was too delicious. She needed more. That finally made her remember herself. She tried to pull away. But it was too late. His mouth was alreadygone from hers. His hand lingered a scant second longer and then left her.
    â€œYou shouldn’t have done that,” she breathed.
    â€œNo. Neither should you have. Don’t worry. Not about me. Let me do that. I give you a good-night,” he said and disappeared into the darkness again, leaving her feeling more starkly alone than she had before.

Chapter 6
    S hall I congratulate you, or saddle up your horse and help you ride off into the night?” a weary voice said from out of the darkness.
    Montrose dropped the boots he’d just removed in the outer hall. He sank to a chair in the inn’s bedchamber and stared into the darkness. “You’re awake,” he said.
    â€œOf course. How could I sleep? You tiptoed out of here as quietly as a bull elephant. Not only was I awake,” Whit said, rising to one elbow in the bed, “I was observant, out of curiosity and a care for your life. You will note, or would if I lit a lamp, that I am also dressed. There was scant moonlight but enough once your eyes get used to it. I saw you go out and watched you while you were outside. You weren’t shot or kidnapped, so I didn’t race to your rescue. But there was danger enough, I’d say.You’ve been out playing with fire, old friend. Did you get burned?”
    Montrose ran a hand over his eyes. “No,” he said abruptly. “I should have insisted on a separate room.”
    â€œMuch good it would have done. Then you would have slept in the loft in the barn with our valets,” his friend said as he rose from the bed and began to remove his jacket. “There isn’t another space to be found in this place. I looked.