Daring Lords and Ladies

by Emily Murdoch

  “Perhaps it would be best if we returned to the ballroom,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  “Nonsense,” Erroll said. “There’s no need to waste a perfectly lovely night in a stuffy ballroom.” He began to lead her away.

  “Damn Scottish bastard,” came the barely audible words behind them.

  Erroll halted, but before he could turn, Miss Crenshaw whirled and demanded, “I beg your pardon?” The chilling tone in her voice sent an odd ripple of warmth through him. She added as he turned, “Are you insane?”

  He noted the anger in her voice, but it was condescension that dripped from her words. His mother would be proud. No woman could cut a person to the quick—when deserved—faster than his own dear mamma.

  Diana drew a sharp breath and opened her mouth to reply, but Erroll murmured, “Beware, Diana.”

  Her eyes flew to his. She stared for a long moment, then whirled and started toward the mansion. Erroll didn’t wait for Miss Crenshaw to attack again. He steered her back toward the gardens and began walking.

  She twisted and looked over her shoulder.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  She faced forward. “That malicious cat. I wager her attitude was sweeter when you were bedding her.”

  Erroll laughed. “Madam, you are a delight.”

  “Rubbish. Do you think she will remain quiet about us being out here?”

  “Likely, she has already chosen the biggest gossip to spread the news.” If he wasn’t careful, he might find himself at Gretna Green after all.

  “This is what I get for shooting a man with a past,” she muttered.

  Erroll was certain she intended an affront, but he laughed again. “Miss Crenshaw, you have had some bad luck, haven’t you?”

  “If I set a wedding date far enough into the future, I imagine one of your paramours will shoot you and save me the trouble,” she replied. “Although, if I married you first, I would be a very rich widow.”

  He answered with mock gravity, “You would be only as rich as I choose to make you.”

  “Oh no, my lord, you are going to make me a very generous marriage settlement. Rest assured, when you die, I will be a wealthy widow.”

  “You seem quite certain I will die first.”

  “If Lady Barrett is an example of your past paramours, it is a foregone conclusion. Why does the spiteful thing detest you so?”

  “I didn’t want to marry her.”

  “I can’t say I blame you,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  They neared the tall bushes that marked the garden entrance. “Indeed, why?” he asked.

  “I have never liked her.”

  “In truth, I never much liked her either,” he said.

  “Then you deserve everything she has planned for you.”

  Erroll was beginning to enjoy himself. “Again, you are quite right,” he said.

  A small cry from the garden brought him to a halt and, an instant later, a young woman darted through the large hedges on the left.

  Miss Crenshaw stepped forward, but Erroll held firm to the hand still entwined with his arm. “The lass will come to us,” he whispered.

  The girl reached them, and Miss Crenshaw gasped. “Lady Gallagher?” This time, he allowed Miss Crenshaw to pull free of his hold. “Are you all right? What are you doing here?”

  She glanced in the direction she had come, then answered in a shaky voice, “Yes,”

  A large figure separated from the dark shadows of the garden, answering Miss Crenshaw’s second question.

  The man slowed. “Halifax,” Erroll said as he neared.

  “Lord Halifax,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  The note of censure in her voice was obvious to Erroll—to Halifax as well, when he said, “Miss Crenshaw.”

  Lady Gallagher shrank closer to her as Halifax stopped in front of them.

  “Out for a stroll, I see,” Erroll commented.

  “Just as you are,” Halifax replied without apology.

  “I hadn’t realized you and Lady Gallagher were to be married,” Erroll replied. “My felicitations.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” Halifax shot back.

  “I am never a fool.” Erroll looked at the girl. “Lady Gallagher, it would be best if you returned to the party.”

  She glanced at Lord Halifax.

  “No need to worry about Neville, my dear. Run along.”

  “I will take her inside,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  “Nonsense,” Erroll said. “She will go straight to her mamma, where she should have remained in the first place. Right, Lady Gallagher?”

  “Yes, my lord,” she said in a small voice, but made no move to leave.

  “There is no reason your mamma need learn of your mistake,” Erroll said. “I am sure you learned your lesson.”

  “Oh, yes, my lord.”

  “Good. Be sure to straighten your dress before you enter the ballroom.”

  She gave a small gasp and hurried toward the mansion. Lord Halifax started after her.

  “I hear Lord Gallagher is a tolerable shot,” Erroll said.

  Halifax stopped and faced him. “Then you must have heard I am a better shot.”

  “I think you flatter yourself.”

  “I do not care for threats, Rushton.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Erroll replied. “I care nothing for them, either. Neither do I make threats.”

  “What business is this of yours?” Halifax demanded.

  Erroll sighed. “None.”

  “Then we understand one another.”

  “Sadly, we do not.”

  “Then allow me to clarify,” Halifax said. “Do not interfere in my affairs.”

  “Affairs?” Miss Crenshaw repeated, and Erroll silently groaned. He’d known that would be the word to prod the lady from her cooperative silence.

  “You would do well to keep your fiancé in check, Rushton.”

  “How dare you?” Miss Crenshaw seethed.

  “No need to worry, my dear,” Erroll interjected. The lady was going to get him into more trouble than he was already in. “Neville is no more a fool than I. He is well aware that I am an even better shot than Lord Gallagher.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  Erroll didn’t care for the feral tone in the man’s voice. “A reminder,” he said. “Really, Halifax, what do you want with a girl barely out of the schoolroom?” He regretted the question the moment it left his mouth. He knew exactly what the man wanted with a young girl.

  “I did nothing you have not done many times over,” Halifax said.

  “You are misinformed,” Erroll said. “I have never seduced a girl of seventeen.”

  “You were never caught seducing a girl of seventeen.”

  “As I said, you have been misinformed. I do not seduce virgins.”

  “No.” Halifax shifted his gaze onto Miss Crenshaw. “You have no such luck. I, on the other hand, would never be foolish enough to get caught in a woman’s bedchamber.”

  “Very wise on your part,” Erroll replied. “Lady Gallagher’s father would not have waited for a dawn appointment, but would have shot you on the spot.”

  “You know very well about being shot on the spot, do you not?”

  Erroll laughed. “Indeed I do. Fortunately, Miss Crenshaw was not trying to kill me. Lord Gallagher, however, would put a bullet between your eyes.”

  “His precious daughter is none the worse for wear,” Halifax snapped.

  “I am relieved to hear that,” Erroll said. “Now, if you will excuse us, Miss Crenshaw and I will resume our walk.”

  He clasped her hand and slipped it into the crook of his arm.

  Halifax gave a derisive snort. “Heaven help the man who interferes with your pleasure.”

  Erroll paused and looked at him. “I see we do understand one another, after all.”

  “My lord,” Miss Crenshaw said. “Please.”

  Erroll broke his stare and looked at her. “Of course, my dear.” Without another look at the
earl, he led her into the garden.

  Inside the private shadows of the hedges, Erroll slowed. They’d had two interruptions already, and he was frustrated enough to go after Neville and shoot him just for sport. He wondered what else could go wrong, then cut off the thought. The way night was unfolding, a third surprise could find him shanghaied on a ship bound for China.

  “That was good of you,” Miss Crenshaw said.

  He grunted. “Hardly. I never liked Halifax. I’ve been looking for a reason to put him in his place. He took a great deal of the fun out of the prospect by being such an ass. I had hoped for more.”

  She laughed, not a girlish titter or a sensual throaty sound, but a delighted laugh that surprised him by warming his insides.

  “He does lack a certain amount of character,” she said.

  “I thought you had the same opinion of me,” Erroll said.

  “As you said, sir, you do not seduce children.”

  Oddly, he was glad she noted that difference, however slight a gain.

  “You are a man of intelligence,” she said.

  “Indeed?” He would have thought she saw him as the worst sort of idiot.

  “Oh yes,” she said. “Most men would have issued a dawn appointment at being called a seducer of children. You were wise to let the slur pass.”

  “You know very little about male thinking, madam. I did not let the slur pass.”

  She patted his arm as if talking to a child. “Forgive me, I did not mean to offend your masculine sensibilities.”

  “Masculine sensibilities? I do not possess any sort of sensibilities.”

  “Of course not. I see that now.”

  “Do not patronize me. Are you always this contrary?”

  “Now you are being unkind. I apologized. “

  “Never mind the apology,” he said. “I have never had much use for them. I have something far more pleasant in mind for our walk.” Like picking up where they left off in the parlor. Erroll stopped and swung her into his arms. Her body met his in an explosion of soft and hard, and his cock throbbed with long-denied need.

  “My goodness,” she said.

  “My sentiments exactly.” He lowered his mouth onto hers.

  Her body melted in his arms and he suddenly feared he would be apologizing after all. She deserved more than a tumble in Lady Grendall’s garden…didn’t she? Her mouth parted and he flicked his tongue against the moist tip of her tongue. She gasped and his erection thickened. He slid his tongue inside, forcing gentleness when he wanted nothing more than to thrust—hard—in every way.

  She clutched his shoulders and he envisioned her hold tightening even harder when he brought her to pleasure. He felt his pulse in his private parts and knew once the throbbing reached his head he would be done for. He had nearly passed that point when they’d been in their hiding place. He became aware of her palms on his chest and thought of them sliding lower to cup his erection. Erroll broke the kiss and buried his head in her hair.

  “You tempt me beyond reason,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I cannot resist you much longer.”

  “I-I did not mean to, my lord.”

  She shifted and he realized she was snuggling her nose against his neck. A strange prickle slid along his shoulders. He stilled, curious as to what she intended—and wanting more of whatever it was. Her breast expanded against his, then she exhaled and the feather light breeze of her breath tickled his skin. He shuddered. She stilled. Erroll slid a hand down her back and over her buttocks. She squeaked and jerked against his cock. He groaned and pressed her closer.

  She fisted the material of his coat. “I-I am wrinkling your coat.”

  He gave a strangled laugh and kissed her neck. She gasped again. If he didn’t stop, he’d have her down on the ground, skirts over her head in another moment, which would make him almost as much of a beast as Halifax--almost. But he didn’t stop, and instead kissed lower on her neck, then lower until his mouth was pressed against the curve of soft flesh above her bodice. Then he was sucking a nipple into his mouth through the fabric of her dress.

  “Oh my.” She seized his shoulders.

  He suckled harder.

  “My lord…”

  He heard the breathless surprise in her voice and was astonished to realize he felt the same way. If he could get her into his carriage…

  “Lord Rushton.” She quivered.

  “I am right here, love,” he whispered against her creamy flesh.

  Erroll’s mind vaguely registered the rustle of a hedge behind him. Miss Crenshaw gave a startled cry and he jerked his mouth from her breast.

  Her eyes were on something—someone—behind him.

  “Not again.” He cursed.

  Pain knifed through the back of his head. Light flashed across his vision, then all went black.

  Chapter Six

  The dizzying current that spun Eve’s mind evaporated. “You hurt him!” She fell to her knees beside the earl and placed a finger over the pulse in his neck. A strong beat thumped against her fingertips.

  Oscar towered over them. “I only knocked him cold. He deserved worse.”

  Eve heard the censure in his voice and embarrassment washed over her. She’d forgotten he was hiding nearby. He’d seen—she swallowed—he’d seen Lord Rushton’s hands on her derrière and his mouth on her… Holy God, she was feeling lightheaded again.

  “I had to distract him,” she retorted.

  “If that maid had strolled any slower past my hiding place, I would have arrived to find he had your dress over your head.”

  Eve looked up sharply. “He would not.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t be the one marrying him at Gretna Green?”

  She shoved upward, but was dragged back down when she stepped on her skirt. Oscar grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

  She yanked free. “A kiss does not mean we must marry.”

  “That was more than a kiss.”

  “Oh, never mind.” Eve released an exasperated breath. “I didn’t intend for you to knock him senseless. He will be furious when he awakens.”

  “No more so than when you shot him,” Oscar replied.

  “How do you propose to get him out of here in this condition?” she asked. “Oh, you have truly harmed him.”

  “He isn’t hurt,” Oscar said with annoyance. “Should I have politely asked him to get into my carriage for a ride to Scotland to marry your sister? You tried that.”

  She groaned. “There is not even a modicum of privacy in our household, is there?” That came as a result of the servants growing up with the children of the house. Of course, the fact that Eve had known Oscar since she was five and he had pulled her out of more scrapes than she would ever admit was the reason she could talk him into helping her. This might be one scrape too many.

  “Perhaps we should forget my plan,” she said. “He need not know who hit him. I can say the culprit ran away.”

  “You going to marry him?”

  She recalled the marriage contract. “I am not.”

  “Well, you or your sister have to marry him.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “I better get him into the carriage,” Oscar said. “If he wakes up, I’ll have to beat him in earnest.” The words carried the tone of a brother who wanted a reason to beat his sister’s lover. “I can tie him up nice and tight.”

  One way or another, Oscar would have his revenge. He always did, which, truth be told, had saved her much grief. This time, however… “You cannot keep him tied up the whole journey,” she said. “That would be cruel.”

  “He’ll survive. I’ll feed him and give him water. He can even have a piss.”

  “Good Lord,” Eve burst out.

  Oscar bent and hauled Lord Rushton over his shoulder.

  Eve glanced around. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  He grunted agreement but, thankfully, refrained from comment, and started deeper into the garden.

  Eve hurried to kee
p up with his long stride. “Where are you taking him?”

  “There’s a side entrance for servants. I have the carriage waiting nearby.”

  “Someone is sure to see you. I did not think this through well enough. I see now you could end up in prison.”

  Oscar turned right and dim light filtered through the foliage up ahead. He brushed past large hedges and stepped onto another path.

  “Is someone there?” a woman called.

  Eve and Oscar halted and his head jerked in her direction.

  Eve’s heart jumped into her throat. “One of the maids,” she whispered. “Quickly, get the earl into the carriage. If I am not there in five minutes go—”

  “Who is it?” the maid called.

  Eve shoved Oscar toward the hedge and called to the woman, “It is I, Miss Crenshaw.”

  “Miss Crenshaw?”

  Eve hurried toward the voice beyond the foliage in the direction of the mansion. She stepped into the opening and saw a young woman carrying a burlap sack that Eve wagered was full of apples from the orchard. Lady Grendall’s cook was known for baking the best apple tarts in London and she served them fresh from the oven at Lady Grendall’s soirees.

  “Pardon me, Miss,” the maid said. “Are you all right? It is not safe for a lady alone in the gardens at night.”

  “I needed a bit of fresh air,” Eve joined the girl. “I got lost.”

  “It is best if you return with me. I can show you to the hallway leading to the ballroom from the kitchen.”

  Eve hesitated. If she returned to the party she risked taking too long to get to the carriage. “Is there another exit?” she asked.

  “Exit?”

  “Yes. I am not feeling well and I would like to go home.”

  “You can leave by the main entrance,” she said.

  “I prefer a more discreet exit. My future husband is insisting I stay and I have no wish to argue with him.”

  The girl laughed. “Men can be demanding when they want their way.”

  “Indeed they can,” Eve agreed.

  “The servants' entrance is on the west side of the mansion. I’ll show you.”

  Eve laid a hand on her arm. “No need. I can find my way.”

  “Oh no, Miss, you mustn’t be walking alone in the gardens.”