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"That is Scruggs, my lord. Lady Arbuthnott's butler," Augusta said breathlessly. She
righted herself as he released her and straightened her cloak. "Lady Arbuthnott insisted
he accompany me."
"Scruggs. I see. Wait here, Augusta." Harry swung one leg over the windowsill and
then the other. He dropped down onto the moist earth and beckoned to the stooped figure
in the bushes. "Come here, my good man."
"Yes, your lordship?" Scruggs came forward with an awkward, limping gait. His eyes
glinted with laughter in the shadows. "May I be of service, sir?"
"I think you have already done quite enough for one night, Scruggs," Harry said
through his teeth. Aware of Augusta hovering in the open window, he lowered his voice
as he confronted Peter Sheldrake. "And if you ever assist the lady in another adventure of
this sort, I shall personally straighten out that extremely poor posture of yours.
Permanently. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir. Most definitely, your lordship. Quite clear, sir." Scruggs bobbed his head in a
servile bow and edged backward, cowering pathetically. "I'll just wait out here in the cold
for Miss Ballinger, sir. Never mind that the night air brings out the rheumatism in these
old bones. Don't concern yourself with my joints, my lord."
"I do not intend to concern myself with your joints unless I find it necessary to take
them apart one by one. Go on back to Sally's. I'll take care of Miss Ballinger."
"Sally is planning to send her home in her carriage with a couple of other members of
Pompeia's," Peter said softly in his own voice. "Do not fret, Harry. No one except Sally
and myself knows what is going on here. I'll wait for Augusta in Sally's garden. She'll be
safe enough once you get her back there."
"You cannot know how that knowledge relieves my mind, Sheldrake."
Peter grinned through his false whiskers. "This was not my idea, you know. Miss
Ballinger came up with it all on her own."
"Unfortunately, I can believe that."
"There was no stopping her. She asked Sally to let her sneak through the gardens and
down the lane to your house and Sally very wisely insisted I come along. Wasn't much
else we could do except make certain she did not come to harm in the process of getting
to you."
"Be off, Sheldrake. Your excuses are too lame to interest me."
Peter grinned again and faded into the shadows. Harry went back to the open window
where Augusta stood peering down into the darkness.
"Where is Scruggs going?" she demanded.
"Back to his employer's house." Harry climbed back into the library and closed the
window.
"Oh, good. That was very kind of you to send him back." Augusta smiled. "It is very
cold out there and I would not want him standing around in the damp air. He suffers from
rheumatism, you know."
"That is not all he will be suffering from if he tries anything like this again," Harry
muttered as he relit the lamp.
"Please, you must not blame Scruggs for my appearance here tonight. It was all my
idea."
"So I understand. Allow me to tell you it was a distinctly unsound notion, Miss
Ballinger. An addlepated, idiotic, entirely reprehensible idea. But as you are here now,
perhaps you will explain exactly why you felt it necessary to risk your neck and your
reputation to see me in such a fashion?"
Augusta gave a small, frustrated exclamation. "This is going to be extremely difficult
to explain, my lord."
"No doubt."
She turned to face what was left of the fire, allowing her cloak to fall open as she
stood in front of the glowing embers. The large red gem above her breasts glowed with
the reflection of the flames.
Harry caught a glimpse of the sweet curves revealed by the low neckline of Augusta's
gown and stared. Good lord, he could almost see her nipples peeping out from behind a
couple of strategically placed satin roses. His imagination soared, providing a vivid
image of those barely concealed buds. Firm and ripe, they would be made for a man's
mouth.
Harry blinked, suddenly aware that he was already half aroused. He fought for his
normal, unshakable self-control.
"I suggest you start the explanations, whatever they may be, immediately. It's getting
late." Harry propped himself against the edge of his desk. He folded his arms across his
chest and contented himself with an expression of severe reproof. It was hard to maintain [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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