The Viscount's Wicked Ways

by Anne Mallory

  Pink stained her cheeks. So she wasn’t exempt from secret fantasies. But she wasn’t a slave to her fantasies. All right, so she wasn’t always a slave to her fantasies.

  Patience stood and began clearing the clutter she had spread across the floor. She needed to get her mind out of the clouds and back in the real world.

  There were no monsters, the castle was not haunted, and Lord Blackfield was not courting her. She nodded. Perfect.

  “Patience? You look like you are preparing for war.”

  She smiled at John, who was standing in the doorway looking quite bemused.

  “Finished with the medieval pieces already?”

  He entered the room, nodding. “Yes. I’ll begin with the Eastern pieces tomorrow. I was wondering if you needed assistance.”

  “Nothing you can help with, unfortunately. Mr. Tecking might need some assistance though.”

  John shuddered. “Are you sure there is nothing I can help you with?”

  Amused, she shook her head. “Why don’t you take the night off. We’re ahead of schedule, so go do whatever it is men enjoy doing. I heard there is a lively tavern in the village, or perhaps you can challenge Blackfield to evil overlord chess.”

  John smiled and turned. “I think I will have a look at the village. Thanks. See you at dinner.”

  Patience waved him off. Throwing back her shoulders, she commanded herself to focus on her work.

  Two hours later it was time to wash and dress for dinner, and her command had only partially worked. But at least she was through the Egyptian household items. The next day she could start on the burial artifacts, one of her favorite areas.

  Patience entered the terrace where the others were already gathered. Lanterns were strung from posts. The atmosphere was light and festive. The staff had prepared a splendid dinner to celebrate the new month. The guests sat and immediately were presented with the first course.

  As she sipped her soup, she caught Thomas’s eye. There was a twinkle in their depths, and she again wondered what type of changeling he was to so abruptly alter his demeanor.

  “Miss Harrington, how did your cataloging go this afternoon? Must have been a relief to ship a third of the collection this morning.”

  Mrs. Tecking’s spoon was frozen halfway to her mouth. John blinked at the cordial tone. Caroline was trying to act as if nothing were out of the ordinary, but her eyes had gone a bit wide. Samuel looked perpetually amused. Mr. Tecking kept eating, blithely unaware as usual.

  “Oh, it was a productive afternoon. I start on burial artifacts tomorrow, and am quite looking forward to it.”

  “Really? What about them sparks your interest?”

  “The importance of the afterlife and the heart as the house of the soul. The types of things that were considered important in the afterlife. Common things and extraordinary things. And I have quite a fondness for canopic jars.”

  Samuel raised a brow. “What exactly is a canopic jar?”

  “Those are the ornate jars where they put the body parts the person would need. Imset, depicted as a human, housed the liver, Hapi, the baboon took care of the lungs, Duamutef the jackal for the stomach, and Kebechsenef the falcon for the intestines.”

  Everyone’s eyes except Mr. Tecking’s and Thomas’s were wide.

  Thomas smirked at Samuel’s expression. “And what about the brain, Miss Harrington?”

  “Oh, they pulled it out through the nose and discarded it.”

  She paused as soon as the words left her mouth. She really needed to stop doing this. She peeked upward. Thomas seemed to be taking perverse delight in the green shade of Samuel’s face, and it reminded her again how fiercely competitive they were.

  Thomas gestured toward her before the others could regain their ability to speak. “Have some oysters, Miss Harrington. They are Cook’s specialty.”

  “Thank you, Lord Blackfield.” She was grateful for the topic change.

  Mrs. Tecking’s mouth pursed in displeasure. She grabbed an oyster before Patience could reach one.

  She had barely tasted it before she was simpering. “Oh, those are truly delightful, my lord.”

  It was Patience’s turn to blink. She had been shocked when Mrs. Tecking had restrained from simpering to Thomas. That she had suddenly regained the ability seemed equally startling.

  “Miss Harrington is not used to such rich foods, but I’m sure that even she will enjoy it.”

  Ah, so that was the reason. Now that Thomas seemed to find amusement in Patience’s gaffes, Mrs. Tecking was determined to pick up the slack.

  “Patience has never been fond of oysters,” John said.

  Well, that was unexpected. What was John up to? And why did everyone suddenly have an opinion for her?

  “They are quite good.” Caroline smiled, although there was a guarded look to her eyes as if she was trying to figure out what was going on with her guests.

  Patience looked at Thomas, whose eyes were narrowed in Mrs. Tecking’s direction. He glanced at Patience, and the twinkle returned.

  “Oysters, a subject worthy of debate.”

  She couldn’t stop her smile.

  “By the by, Miss Harrington. I was wondering if you would like to travel to the abbey ruins on the edge of the property. I believe they are medieval.”

  If the twinkle in his eye was anything to go by, he knew perfectly well what they were.

  Mrs. Tecking jumped in before Patience could reply. “Oh, may we make a group outing of it?”

  Patience wasn’t surprised by the request. Mrs. Tecking was a social creature, even if Mr. Tecking was not.

  Thomas didn’t lose the twinkle. “Alas, I’m afraid that won’t be possible this time. I spoke with your husband earlier, and he assured me that he needed to stay in the castle tomorrow and needed you to help him, isn’t that true Mr. Tecking?”

  Mr. Tecking perked up for a second. “Quite right. Quite right.”

  Mrs. Tecking was displeased. Patience wasn’t sure that the woman’s lips could pull any tighter.

  John spoke up. “Well, I’m free and can go with you two.”

  Thomas sipped his wine and somehow managed to look apologetic. “No, we couldn’t ask it of you, Mr. Fenton.”

  “It would be no trouble. I would enjoy seeing the ruins.”

  “Enjoy seeing them again? Surely not. I wouldn’t subject you to something you no doubt scoured thoroughly the other day.” Thomas said it smoothly, nothing in his tone to suggest malice although his eyes read otherwise.

  John shifted in his chair. If Patience hadn’t known John as well as she did, she wouldn’t have caught the slip in his composure. But he looked as if he was berating himself. He had said he was looking at the ruins when part of the Hastings Building had exploded. What else had John been doing?

  “I don’t mind. I quite enjoyed them.”

  Mrs. Tecking saw an opportunity. “And you two can’t go by yourselves. I know that some people don’t believe in propriety, but really, there is skirting the line, and there is dancing right over it.”

  Thomas swirled his wine. “Amazing how some have no sense of where that line is.”

  A warm feeling spread through Patience at his words. She immediately tried to rein in the emotions that took flight. She had the love and support of her father and friends. She didn’t need someone to defend her. But, darn it felt good.

  She caught Thomas looking at her and gave him a genuine smile. His eyes crinkled in response, and she again felt a warm surge. She had to be on guard, or she would fall victim to this man who had suddenly begun to appeal to all her secret womanly fantasies—even with their inauspicious start and his somewhat rough edges. Somehow that made his recent attentions all the more special.

  Patience shook her head and sipped her wine. She had never before understood some of the tendencies of her gender. She had a bad feeling that she was about to start understanding them.

  A bit of color entered Mrs. Tecking’s cheeks, the only sign that she had und
erstood his comment.

  Thomas nonchalantly continued to swirl his wine. “Caroline, you expressed interest in going to the ruins tomorrow.”

  Caroline didn’t miss a beat, seeing her chance to guide the conversation back to safe ground. “Yes, that would be pleasant. Mr. Tecking, share with us what you have been working on?”

  Mr. Tecking blinked owlishly from his place, then launched into a dissertation on ancient Roman politics. He had become somewhat of a dinner scapegoat for Caroline. One could always rely on the man to drone on endlessly.

  Dessert was quickly consumed, and everyone retired to their own pursuits.

  After doing some research for her work the next day, Patience decided to walk down to the library. She hadn’t actually had the opportunity to peruse the considerable stacks.

  Navigating the halls, she passed numerous servants who were cleaning up for the night. Maybe it was the presence of others in the halls that diminished the eerie glow usually present. Or maybe it was the leftover warmth from dinner. Whatever it was, the hall lamps sparkled cheerfully as she walked.

  The library was open and lit, as if someone had been there and just stepped out. She headed to the first stack on the left. Historical novels and fiction. Excellent.

  Patience bypassed the Gothics. There was enough atmosphere in the castle already. Instead, she skimmed until she found an old copy of Edmund. Pulling it out, she thought it the perfect reading material to take her mind off of everything going on at the castle.

  Love, pride, heroes, villains…love…all right, maybe it wasn’t the best choice, but it was one of her favorites. Although she had always thought Heloise a better heroine. Who could measure up to the ideal of Isolda?

  Patience waffled on her choice. Perhaps she should go with Locke or Wollstonecraft (much to her delight she had seen copies peeking from the corner). A treatise or something else.

  Patience shook her head. No, she’d made her choice, and she was keeping it. Satisfied that she had beaten herself into shape, she turned.

  A warm hand caressed hers and plucked the book from her hands. The touch sparked a path directly to her brain, and she immediately recognized Thomas’s smiling features.

  “Edmund? I always thought he should have ended up with Heloise.”

  He might as well have said that Copernicus was wrong and the sun really did rotate around the Earth.

  “What?”

  He tapped the cover. “Heloise. Smart and lively.” He looked at her. No, leered at her. “My favorite kind of woman.”

  The weird feeling in her stomach returned along with the annoying racing heart it caused.

  “Really?” Stupid, stupid, stupid! What had she said that for?

  He leaned forward, his lips near her ear. “Most definitely.” His breath caressed her ear and cheek, causing her to shiver.

  His lips trailed from her ear, brushing her cheek and traveling ever nearer. The journey seemed to take hours as Patience focused completely on the sensation of his lips as they barely touched her skin. She could smell his cologne, a clean scent like the air after a storm.

  His hands slipped around her waist, and he pulled her closer. His lips, still just brushing her skin, trailed down to her jaw, and she involuntarily tilted her head back to allow him access as he continued his exploration down her neck. Soft breaths sent caresses through her entire body. Warm lips fired her blood.

  And then his lips caressed a point just below her jaw. The beat of her heart steadily increased, and the feeling coalesced under his lips as he gently nibbled and kissed the skin there.

  Patience melted. In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised to have found herself boneless at his feet. But his arms just tightened around her, as if he understood perfectly the reaction he was coaxing from her. The thought that he was deliberately coaxing a response barely registered before she discarded it. Her annoying thoughts were intruding in the pleasure of whatever it was he was doing to her.

  His lips trailed back up her jaw and captured her own. He tasted faintly of brandy and mint, and she found herself gripping his shirtfront as he kissed and licked and nibbled her senseless. She tried to respond, but her senses had left her three kisses back, and she just clutched on and reveled in the ride of sensations.

  Thomas pulled away, regret showing clearly on his face. She must have looked as befuddled as she felt, because he explained, “The servants will be closing this wing.”

  Her non-Thomas senses returned, and she could hear voices and echoing footsteps. She let go of her iron grip on his shirt, unsure whether it was embarrassment or disappointment that left her unwilling to meet his eyes.

  He tipped her chin up and caught her eye before briefly pressing his lips to hers. “I will see you in the morning, and we will ride to the ruins in the afternoon.”

  Patience nodded, not knowing what to say, her brain unable to deal with the new situation between them.

  He handed her the copy of Edmund and winked. “Sweet dreams, my smart and savvy lady.”

  Dazed, Patience took the book and walked to the door. She risked a glance back as she walked into the hall. He was still observing her, an amused look on his face. And she forgave herself for hoping that perhaps she saw a hint of tenderness there as well.

  Chapter 13

  Patience changed into her riding habit an hour before necessary, trying to ignore Tilly’s sly questions as to what had her so excited. Her maid had been demonstrating a cunning side never before revealed. Patience wasn’t sure she was very happy about Tilly’s cunning side showing up to torment her at that particular moment.

  John had sent a few inquiring glances her way, but had said nothing more after his comments at dinner the previous night. He had been acting strangely since they had arrived at the castle. Perhaps as he had said, he was just concerned for her. Or perhaps there was something more. Blackfield’s pointed comment about John’s absence during the explosion had obviously registered with John. Patience didn’t know what was going on there. Perhaps John was trying to investigate the monster project, too. He had made enough sharp remarks the other day.

  Determined to ask him about it later, she focused on her last burial mask. She had saved the canopic jars, her favorite, for later.

  The funerary mask was cataloged and set aside. Most of the work she had scheduled for today was completed. Breathing a satisfied sigh of relief, Patience was startled to hear a soft chuckle from the door. She turned to see Blackfield lounging against the frame, an irresistible grin curving his lips. His shirt set off his broad shoulders and his riding trousers fit him snugly.

  “Finished?”

  Patience nodded and bent to fiddle with the crate, trying to hide her blush behind the hair that had loosened from its bun to hang around her face. She straightened, still a bit flustered. “Are you ready?”

  “Of course. Picnic items are packed, and I’ve requested two servants to chaperone.”

  “What about Caroline?”

  “Something came up. But don’t worry, your virtue is safe.”

  He smirked at the light stain that had once again risen to her cheeks, and she gave him a disgruntled look. “I’m ready.”

  He offered his arm, and they descended to the ground floor and walked to the stables. It was a good walk, and she was further flustered as he pulled her close, leaning over to point out different features of the gardens and castle walls.

  His closeness was playing havoc with her emotions. She tried to calm her scattered wits as they approached the stables.

  “Good afternoon, my lord, Miss Harrington,” a smooth, male voice intoned. Patience turned to the stablehand who stepped from the building.

  “Good afternoon, Henry. Are the horses ready?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Thomas nodded and briefly disappeared into the stables.

  Henry smiled at Patience.

  “We have an especially nice mount for you, Miss Harrington. Jasmine is a fine mare for a lovely lady.”

  Patienc
e’s eyes widened at the stablehand’s words and leering eyes. She had been flirted with before, but even for a servant, the man was a bit too attractive to give her much notice. Then again, Thomas was definitely too attractive, and he had kissed her. More than once. Maybe that new facial cream that Tilly had concocted for her to keep from burning in the sun, really was a miracle cream.

  The stablehand swept a bow, a bit on the rakish side. “Henry Spent, my lady.”

  A charmer. She had seen his type before. Tended to go through all the maids and other women within a ten-kilometer radius. Still, he was pleasant, and she could take care of herself. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Henry.”

  “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Harrington.” He sent her another too-wide smile, just as Thomas reappeared.

  Thomas winked at her. “Ready, Miss Harrington?”

  The warmth in his eyes caused Patience to hum a bit, more pleased than she would like to admit. Darn Tilly and her sly suggestions. “How long is the ride?”

  “Depending on how hard one rides, around twenty minutes.”

  “I like to ride hard. I’ve missed my daily rides and the feel of all that power beneath me.”

  Thomas sent her a strange look, but Patience couldn’t figure out what could have earned it. She had always enjoyed horses and riding, the faster the better. Patience cooed over her mare and allowed Thomas to help her mount.

  They began a slow walk from the stables, which quickly turned into a trot, then a canter. Patience laughed. Riding in the city was so restrained. It had been a while since she had felt the wind in her face.

  The ride to the abbey was joyful and unrestrained, the meadows and hills covered in buttercups, pansies, and thistle. By the time the large stone gatehouse came into view she was flushed and breathless, her hair in loosely tangled strands around her face. As she called back to him, Thomas had an odd glimmer in his eye. Feeling more flushed at his look, she turned her attention to the gatehouse. It was fully standing, fierce, yet lonely, as it proudly secured the way to the abbey.