How to Capture a Countess (Duchess Diaries 1)

by Karen Hawkins

  Lord Cameron smirked. “Yes, but I hold mine better.”

  Miss Isobel tittered.

  Rose pressed her lips into a firm line. “I’ll look for Lord Sinclair elsewhere.” She dipped a scant curtsy, spun on her heel, and left, Munro puffing beside her.

  “Where are you going now?” he asked as she took the stairs at a brisk pace.

  “To the billiards room. Perhaps he’s there.”

  “That’s a capital idea. I love to play billiards, myself. Do you play, Miss Balfour?” Before she could answer, he was off again. “I once played with the Duke of Richmond, you know. He’s a fine chap. His table is—” On and on he went, recalling each game he’d ever had. When they reached the landing, she realized that she wouldn’t be able to outpace him, so she purposefully began to walk slower.

  Caught up in his own self-engrossing tale, Munro never noticed and led her down the hallway to the billiards room, talking over his shoulder as he went.

  They were almost there when she heard the sound of a door opening, and then a firm hand was placed about her arm. Before she could make a sound, she was yanked to one side and enfolded in velvety blackness, her back pressed to something firm as Sin’s arms closed about her.

  She blinked into the darkness, the black slowly softening to a gray, and she could make out shelves of what appeared to be linens. The faint scent of starch confirmed this. Good God, we’re in a closet.

  She opened her mouth, but Sin placed a finger over her lips. “Shhhh,” he whispered.

  They were hiding in a closet, for heaven’s sake. A closet! A giggle rose in her chest and she bit her lip to quell it. What a scoundrel! Rose knew she should be outraged, yet all she felt was a deep tickle of amusement and the rare thrill of being naughty.

  Munro, meanwhile, was oblivious to her absence. She could still hear him droning on and on as he strutted on down the hallway.

  Suddenly, the voice stopped and there was silence.

  “Miss Balfour?”

  She bit her lip harder to keep her giggle subdued. Sin’s arms tightened around her, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

  It was amazingly intimate to stand with one’s back pressed to a man’s broad chest, his arms warmly wrapped about her. Her desire to giggle softened into a smile as a sense of deep peace spread through her. Soon, the only urge she had to fight was that of turning in the circle of Sin’s arms and burrowing against him.

  A loud sigh echoed in the hallway as Munro mumbled something about “looking in the music room” before heavy footsteps came back down the hallway and continued past the closet. Rose watched, her breath held, as Munro’s shadow crossed through the light that shone under the door.

  As the shadow and then footsteps faded away, Sin chuckled. She felt each reverberation where her back was pressed to his chest and she sighed. It was heavenly.

  “He’s gone,” Sin said in a low voice.

  “Thank goodness,” Rose said. “I was never so close to screaming in my life. He’s horrible!”

  “In this closet, you can do anything you wish.” Sin’s lips were beside her ear, his warm breath making her skin prickle. “Though I hope you won’t scream.”

  She started to turn, but Sin held her tight. “Stay there a moment.”

  He gently nipped her ear and she gasped as shivers flew through her. “Sin, that’s—”

  He did it again and, without thought, she tilted her head to give him more access. He nipped and kissed her ear and neck, creating a cacophony of sensations and wiping all thoughts from her mind.

  Sin moved with a slow, almost leisurely intent, his mouth never still, his breath warm against her skin.

  He nuzzled her neck. “At dinner last night, I heard you tell Miss Muriella about Caith Manor. Tell me about your home.”

  She frowned, trying to collect her thoughts. “My . . . home? Why?”

  His hands slid to her waist. “Because you intrigue me.”

  She intrigued him?

  “Are you happy there?” he asked between laying breeze-soft kisses on her cheek. “What do you do when you are home?” He rubbed his cheek against hers, and she shivered at the feel of his stubbled skin.

  “I oversee the house and my sisters and—” She caught her breath as he blew on her ear. “Sin, what are you doing?” she managed.

  “Testing your limits.” He nipped her ear, his breath warm on the delicate skin.

  It was so hard to think. Her entire body was aflame, her heart thudding hard in her throat, her skin tight and tingling.

  What did he ask? Oh . . . yes. Caith Manor. “If I tell you about my home, will you tell me about yours?”

  “Which one?”

  She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. “There’s more than one?”

  His teeth flashed in the dim light. “There are twelve.” He slid his hands up from her hips until they crossed over her stomach as he buried his face in her neck. “Tell me about your home.”

  She took a breath and tried to focus. “Caith Manor is quite old, and we haven’t the money to keep it as it should be. There are plenty of loose—” She caught her breath as he began to kiss her neck. What was I saying?

  Rose cleared her throat. “Plenty of loose floorboards, chimneys that smoke, and windows that let in cold air.”

  His hands slid to beneath her breasts.

  Her nipples instantly tightened. God, but she yearned for him to touch her breasts. She pressed back against him, her hands on each side of his thighs as she grasped the soft wool of his coat.

  With her hands to each side, her entire front was available to his touch. And oh, how she wanted him to touch her.

  His thumbs pressed against the bottom of her breasts and she breathed deeply, reveling in the moment. All of her life, she’d been the person who’d taken care of things, who’d gone without so that her sisters and father might have more. And though she didn’t regret those decisions, she realized she’d missed parts of her own life because of them.

  But right now, at this very second, she could do something for herself. Something she would never forget. Something that set her soul afire.

  “Go on,” he urged, his voice muffled against her neck. “Your home?”

  She cleared her throat, her voice husky as she said, “Though Caith Manor is creaky and old, I miss it still.”

  He kissed her ear. “Have you always lived there?”

  “Yes.” Yes, yes, yes. She matched each with one of his kisses.

  He rubbed his stubbled chin over her ear. “What do you do for amusement at Caith Manor?”

  “We—” She gulped. She couldn’t think of a single thing right now. Think, Rose, she ordered herself. “We play chess and whist, we have a boat that we row about the lake near Father’s greenhouses, and—” The words disappeared as his lips slid to the corner of hers.

  “Yes?” he whispered against her. “What else?”

  “W-we sometimes play pall-mall, or shoot arrows at targets we’d hang from the trees in Father’s orchard.”

  It was odd having such a mundane conversation while engaging in such sensual activities. Her mind tried so hard to converse, but her body was aching with distraction. “Caith is on a knoll set in a small wood. There’s a tree on the property that some say is over eight hundred years old.”

  “Lovely,” he murmured as he nipped a line along her jaw.

  “Oh yes. So lovely,” she said with a sigh, her entire body quivering at his touch. “I-I wish you could visit. You would enjoy— Oh!”

  He slid his hands to her breasts and rested there, gently cupping them. Warmth spread through her.

  She gripped his coat tighter and shivered. His thumbs found her nipples through the thin layers of muslin of her gown and chemise.

  She moaned softly and turned her face to the side, toward his.

  He captured her lips with an instant, deep kiss, and she was swept away on a tide of mad passion. Every bit of her ached for him. Her breasts seemed to swell at his to
uch, her hips sliding restlessly as his thumbs encircled her hardened nipples. She’d never felt such agonizing sweetness as she yearned for him with an ache she’d never before felt.

  She shifted restlessly and he gasped against her mouth. She could feel the hard line of his cock pressed against his breeches. He was as aroused as she. The thought made her swell with pride.

  She released his coat and slipped a hand to his turgid cock, amazed at her own boldness.

  He caught his breath as her hand cupped him.

  Rose was excited at her fearlessness. He wasn’t the only one who could destroy a person’s ability to think. Unless she was mistaken about the pained pleasure on Sin’s face, she, too, had that power. She could make a man like Sin gasp for air as if he were drowning.

  She reveled in the heady moment, rubbing his cock through the thick cover of his breeches.

  Sin groaned and tugged her hand away, his breathing harsh in the silence of the closet. He rested his cheek against her forehead and said in a husky voice, “Easy, sweet.”

  “You didn’t like that?”

  He laughed, low and deep, the sound rumbling in his broad chest. “I loved it. Almost too much.” He turned her in his arms until she faced him and then he swooped her up, lifting her from her feet and burying his face in her neck. She slipped her arms about his neck and held him as his breathing slowly returned to normal.

  After a moment, he sighed and slowly slid her to her feet. “I think we’d best leave our closet paradise.”

  Her heart sank. “But why?” She toyed with his cravat pin.

  “Because Munro will come looking for you, and we can’t risk him setting up a hue and cry.”

  “No one knows where I am.”

  “No one knows where I am, either,” he returned. “And that, my dear, could be our undoing.”

  She sighed. He was right, of course. And she knew she needed to have a care about propriety. But it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. Didn’t she deserve a little bit of paradise? At least a moment or two?

  She slid her hands down his chest, trying to soak in as much of this time as she could. In a few moments, she’d be out of this closet and back to being polite Miss Balfour. Worse, in a few weeks she’d be back at Caith Manor, where she’d return to her normal life, one she’d always thought she’d been happy with, but now . . . She looked up into Sin’s face. She was changing. Was that a good thing?

  She wasn’t certain. All she knew was that she wouldn’t stop. Not now.

  He captured her hand and pressed a warm kiss to the palm. “We should make our escape while we can.” He stepped past her and cracked the door open very carefully, looking both ways before he pushed it wide.

  He grinned down at Rose, noting the downward turn of her lips. “After you, my lady.”

  She cast a last, wistful look at the closet before she stepped out into the hallway, where he joined her, shutting the door behind them.

  She looked so forlorn that he wished they hadn’t interrupted their interlude at all. “We’ll have to remember that closet if Munro continues to monopolize you.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “He’s been driving me mad.”

  “He’d talk the ears off a goat.”

  She laughed. “I already fell asleep during one of his stories.”

  “How unfortunate. Did he notice?”

  “Yes, but only after Lady Charlotte pointed it out to him.”

  “He’s a numbskull. Were you escorting him to the billiards room to knock him unconscious with a stick, perchance?”

  “No.” She hesitated, a faint flush on her cheeks. “I was on my way to find you.”

  An odd warmth spread through his chest. “Oh?”

  “The sun came out.” She lifted her brows. “You, sir, owe me an archery contest.”

  She looked all of seventeen, standing in the hallway, her hair slightly mussed, her lips swollen from his kisses as she beamed at him.

  The warmth in his chest grew. “Then an archery contest there shall be.”

  “I’ll tell MacDougal to set it up.” She turned away.

  “Wait. Ask him to have it ready in an hour and a half.”

  She paused and looked back, her brows lowered. “Not now?”

  “I have something I need to do first.” Like ride across the chilled moors for at least an hour. He had to do something to burn the ache from his blood before he was seen with her in public.

  Confusion filled her gaze, but she shrugged. “Fine. In an hour and a half.”

  He bowed, slanting her a look through his lashes that made her cheeks pinken. “Until then, Miss Balfour.”

  She curtsied back. “Until then.”

  And with a flutter of skirts, she left.

  • • •

  MacDougal placed his heel against the front of the target and then paced out twenty steps. When he stopped, a footman hurried forward to place a string across the range, which another footman instantly pegged into place.

  He stepped back to regard their work. “Will this work fer ye, Miss Balfour?”

  The target sat nearly where it had several days ago, and the lawn was a fresh jewel-green, the scent of wet grass permeating the air. The clouds had broken and were being pushed out of the sky by a gusty breeze. She smiled at the butler. “It’s perfect.”

  “’Tis no’ as pretty as the blue paint her grace used fer the tourny the other day, but ’tis the best we can do, considerin’ how wet the grass is.” He watched as she tested the bows. “Are ye certain ye dinna need more than two? I can have more brought fro’ the barn, should ye wish it.”

  “No, two is all we’ll need.” Rose saw Sin striding across the lawn toward her, and her heart took an unexpected leap.

  He’d apparently been riding, for he still wore his riding clothes, his overcoat open and flowing behind him. His dark blond hair was windswept and his rakish smile made her grin in return as she remembered their encounter in the closet.

  When he reached the course, he looked it over and nodded. “Well done, Miss Balfour. Now we may settle our wager.”

  The warmth of his voice was like a physical touch and she shivered, then tugged her pelisse closer about her.

  “MacDougal, where are the arrows?”

  “They’re bein’ brought out, my lord.” He gestured toward a footman approaching from across the wide lawn, a collapsed bow stand under each arm. “Tha’ will be the last o’ it, and ye and Miss Balfour can ha’ yer tourney.”

  “It’s about time,” Sin told Rose with a wolfish smile.

  “Lord Cameron, you were right,” came Miss Isobel’s voice. “The archery course is being reset. We can play another game!”

  His jaw set, Sin glanced back over his shoulder to find Lord Cameron and both Misses Stewart approaching. He gave a disgusted sigh. “Next, we’ll have—”

  “Miss Balfour!” Mr. Munro called as he hurried across the lawn from the other direction. “There you are. Are we shooting arrows again?”

  “I could shoot him,” Sin offered in a low voice.

  Rose sighed. “There are too many of them. Here comes Lady Charlotte, too.”

  Sure enough, the older lady was scurrying toward them, holding her skirts above the wet grass. Sin shook his head. “Bloody hell. How is it that in a castle this size, with so few people, it is impossible to get a few moments alone without the use of a good linen closet?”

  “I’ve wondered the same thing,” Rose said.

  Then Miss Isobel, Miss Muriella, and Lord Cameron were upon them, joined in short order by Munro, and the group chattered loudly about what a capital idea it was to have another archery contest. MacDougal sent a footman to fetch more bows and arrows, while Munro paced off the target as if he were an expert on setting up a range.

  Sin scowled. These past two days, it had felt like fate was conspiring to keep him from Rose. All he could do was sit back and watch her, which had driven him to distraction until he’d taken matters into his own hands and had commandeered the linen
closet. That was one of the benefits of staying in one’s great-aunt’s house—one knew all of the hiding places.

  He watched as Rose pretended to listen to Munro’s self-aggrandizing about his archery skills, her face a mask of politeness. This was the Rose others knew. The Rose he knew moaned when her breasts were touched and loved to have kisses placed upon her ears. Those were secrets that only he knew.

  So the rainy days hadn’t been a total waste. Not only had he managed to abscond with her to the linen closet for a few delicious moments designed to prime her for more, but he had also, by listening to her conversations with others, discovered some interesting tidbits about her. She didn’t care for turtle soup; though she loved Shakespeare, she preferred to read it herself rather than have a pedantic bore read it to her; and she was very close to her sisters. He’d discovered the last fact when Aunt Margaret had inquired after them at dinner last night. Sin didn’t think he’d ever seen a more pleased smile upon Rose’s face.

  There definitely wasn’t a smile there now. Though she was being polite, he could feel her irritation. Just knowing she felt the same way he did helped a little.

  A footman spoke with MacDougal, who turned to the group. “I fear we’re short some arrows. I should have counted them, but I forgot.”

  “I know where they are,” Rose said. “Several went into that copse by the lake.”

  “Very good, miss. I’ll send a footman to find them.”

  “It would be faster if I did it myself. I saw exactly where they went in.”

  The butler looked uncertain. “But miss, it will be wet—”

  “When I’m at home, I tromp about in the rain all the time.” She turned to the others. “Why don’t you begin? I can just go last.”

  Munro stepped forward. “I’ll help you, Miss Balfour.”

  “No, you won’t,” Lady Charlotte said. “I’ll go with Miss Balfour. I’ll not have her wandering about the woods alone with a man.”

  Rose shook her head. “Lady Charlotte, I don’t need anyone to—”

  “Come, dear, we’re wasting time discussing it.” Lady Charlotte headed down the hill, saying over her shoulder, “Miss Isobel is readying for her turn, so we must hurry.”