Page 94 of Second Duke's the Charm

She slipped the letters into her cloak, then reached upto the nape of her neck. She’d arranged her hair in an upswept style, and with her cloak still draped over one arm she fiddled with the necklace’s clasp.

“Oh, blast. I can’t seem to get it undone.”

Stockdale’s brows rose at her feigned exasperation and an oily smile curved his mouth. “Allow me.”

Tess quashed an instinctive shudder as he stepped closer, turning her back to him so he could more easily access her nape. His legs brushed the back of her skirts and she tamped down a wave of revulsion as his warm breath skimmed over her neck. He smelled of onions and beer.

His cold fingers fumbled with the clasp and she found herself holding her breath, praying that Daisy and Ellie would make their move.

“It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Your Grace,” he murmured softly, and she flinched as his palm caressed the slope of her neck in a totally gratuitous touch.

“Did you see the amusing little sketch I drew of you and that brooding new husband of yours?” He was still fumbling with the clasp.

“I did,” Tess said stiffly.

“He’s a lucky man. But if you ever get bored, you know where you can find me.”

Tess was about to tell him she’d leap into the filthy Thames before she’d consider him as a partner, but a movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye. A wave of relief swamped her and she turned, expecting to see Daisy and Ellie with pistols drawn, but her relief turned to horror as she recognized the dark-coated figure emerging from the trees.

Her husband, looking as coolly murderous as one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

“What the Bloody Hell is this?” Justin growled.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Both Tess and Stockdale froze, and she could only imagine the damning tableau they made. From Justin’s vantage point it must look as if Stockdale was placing the necklace around her throat, instead of removing it.

Shit. Bloody. Buggering Hell.What in God’s name was he doing here?

Stockdale was the first to recover his wits. He made a chiding little sound, as if Tess had disappointed him.

“Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise. Your wife and I were just concluding a little business.”

Justin’s hand closed into a fist at his side. “So I see.”

His tone was glacial, and the look he shot Tess made her heart pound. The clasp of the necklace finally gave way, and the heavy gems slithered over her chest and caught in the front of her low bodice. She clutched at it as Stockdale slid his hand over her breast and snatched it, his fingers tangling with hers.

A muscle ticked in Justin’s jaw. “Get your hands off my wife.”

Stockdale tugged the necklace from her grip andslipped it into his coat pocket. “Oh, I don’t think she minded, did you, love?”

Her blood boiled at the malicious amusement in his voice.

Justin’s gaze bored into hers. “It appears I’m interrupting a lovers’ tryst.”

Tess found her voice. “Not at all.” She took a step away from Stockdale. “This is not what it looks like, my lord.”

Justin’s lip gave a scornful curl. “Oh really? Because itlooks likeyour lover, here, is giving you a very gaudy present.”

The fury in his face made her quail, but Stockdale gave a low chuckle.

“Oh, no. The boot’s on the other foot. Your charming wife’s givingmethe gift. For services rendered.”

Tess almost groaned at the way he deliberately made it sound as if she’d used him as some kind of male whore.

Justin advanced. “Who are you? Charles King?”

“Not me, mate. He must be another of your wife’sfriends.” Stockdale’s insinuating tone was an insult.