Page 18 of Sir Hugo Seeks a Wife (Cinderellas of Mayfair #1)

A man spies a maid.

He vows to be her swain.

But what if sweet words fade,

And life turns all to pain?

His heart racing, Hugo leaned forward to open the carriage door to let Athene inside.

Bringing the fresh scent of rain and wind with her, she collapsed beside him with a gasp.

He shut the door quickly. It was dark and the weather had turned, so Bond Street wasn’t as busy as usual.

But London’s fashionable thoroughfares were never without traffic.

As he tapped the roof of the carriage to signal Fogg to drive on, she set her small valise on the opposite seat. Then she pushed back the hood of her black cape. In the lamplight that provided the only illumination in the closed coach with its drawn blinds, her beauty struck him anew.

She’d looked haggard when he’d burst into her office this afternoon. Fine-drawn and tired and deathly unhappy. Now she was vivid with life and anticipation.

“I’m so glad you were here,” she said breathlessly. “It was too cold to wait.”

“I’ve been circling the area for the last half hour. I didn’t want to miss you.” His gloved hand took hers. “Did you have any problems getting away?”

Only now that she was here did he acknowledge how afraid he’d been that she’d change her mind about having him. She had the power to bring him to his knees. He wondered if she knew it.

Somewhere it rankled that they did things her way. But it was difficult to bear a grudge when she was near and willing, and tonight she’d lie in his bed.

“No, with the weather, the shop has been quiet.” She tangled her fingers in his and canted forward with an invitation that he couldn’t resist. “And Sylvie has been on your side from the start. She cheered when I told her what we’d decided.”

Their kiss tasted of raindrops and desperation. Her skin was cold, even as her response heated to flame. When he withdrew, she whimpered with disappointment. “Don’t stop. I’ve wanted to kiss you since you left.”

“So have I.” Hugo sighed and settled back against the rich red upholstery. “But I have things to tell you first.”

Excitement flared in her dark eyes. “You’ve found somewhere?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You spoke to your friends?”

He shook his head. “No. They’d ask too many questions. I turned to an expert.”

“Oh?”

“Fogg drinks at the local tavern. He’s heard talk of various hostelries that might suit.”

“This is poor Fogg who’s sitting outside in the rain?”

“Yes. You – and he – will be glad to know that we’re not going far. Only to Putney. We should be there in less than an hour, providing the weather doesn’t worsen. Fogg will be tucked up with a hot buttered rum in time for his dinner.”

“How clever you are.” Athene tucked back a strand of hair that had escaped the severe knot when he’d kissed her.

A picture of all that ebony silk cascading around her naked shoulders filled his mind.

He shifted against the seat, as the hum of desire sharpened.

A reminder that while he hadn’t got his way, what he had would be wondrous.

“Thank you, but it’s Fogg who deserves the compliments.

The inn isn’t on a main coaching road, and it’s far enough from Mayfair to make it unlikely that we’ll run into anyone we know.

I’ve sent ahead to reserve rooms and order dinner. ”

“I’ve been too upset to eat much recently.”

“Me, too.” Under all that enveloping wool, he couldn’t see her body, but he’d noticed that her dress had hung looser when he’d seen her this afternoon. “But first things first. I brought you a present.”

She looked charmingly flustered. “Oh.”

He produced a lavender and silver box from a pocket in the door. “They might stimulate your appetite.”

Even as she took the box, her expression said that her mind dwelled on appetites other than the one for food. “It’s Sylvie’s.”

“Yes. I picked it up on my way out this afternoon.”

“Oh,” she said again, as she opened the box. She sounded far more overwhelmed than his humble gift merited. “You remembered that I like her lemon drops.”

“Of course.”

Her shining eyes made him feel like a prince. Which pleased him no end. Balancing against the swaying vehicle, he flung an arm around her shoulders. “Good God, this cape is big enough to cover an elephant.”

She replaced the lid on the box and set it beside her. “I was trying to be discreet.”

“It’s hard to find you amongst the billowing folds.”

He slid one hand under her cape and around her waist, as she tilted her face upward. “You managed.”

“I’d say take it off, except it’s perishingly cold in here.” Metal braziers filled with hot coals warmed their feet but had little effect on the overall freezing temperature. Winter came early this year.

Eyes heavy with sensual interest studied him, as she rested her hands on his chest. “I’m not feeling cold at all.”

“Then you can warm me up,” he whispered and kissed her.

By the time they stopped kissing, she was draped across his lap and he was as breathless as if he’d run up the crags that gave his estate its name. He curved her against his body and rested his face against her disheveled head. “Putney can’t be far.”

She stroked his back. “I hope not.” One of those husky laughs that always went straight to his balls followed. “I’d forgotten what it’s like to drown in desire. I might never come up for air.”

“Let’s drown together.”

“Oh, yes.”

More kissing. He raised his head and stared down at her in wonder. She looked rosy and on edge and bright as a star. “You’re so lovely.”

Athene cupped his cheek. “You’re rather picturesque yourself.”

“Piffle.”

She giggled. “Not piffle at all. Those beautiful blue eyes always make me weak at the knees.”

“Get along with you, lass.” Hugo loved it when she was playful. He gathered that her life had been deadly earnest for far too long.

She seemed younger when she teased him, and he caught an intriguing glimpse of the impetuous girl who had followed her heart instead of her head and paid a terrible price for that choice.

Athene was soft and luscious and pressed up against his erect dick. He endured agony and delight, as she wriggled around until she sat beside him. He stifled a groan and prayed for control.

Hugo made himself focus on practicalities. Otherwise all that bumping and rubbing would end up with her flat on her back under him. And to blazes with inopportune ostlers at the inn. “How long have we got? Does Sylvie expect you back tomorrow?”

“No. I’ve told her I’ll stay in touch. She’s overjoyed that I’m embarking on a life of sin.”

“I like Sylvie.”

“She’s been a good friend to me.”

“What about the verses?”

“I’ve got some generic ones prepared ahead. She’ll use those for the next few days.”

“With Petronella off the marriage mart, who’s the latest belle?”

“Elizabeth Tierney is a perennial favorite.”

He’d danced with the lady, a comely blonde. The story was that she’d refused countless eligible gentlemen. “‘Elizabeth must pose a dilemma when it comes to rhymes.”

“You just avoid putting her name at the end of the line.”

He arched his eyebrows. “You’re giving away trade secrets.”

She smiled, as she pulled her hood over her ruffled hair. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Promise.”

The carriage slowed down and Hugo guessed that they’d reached the Three Crowns. He put on his hat then smiled, as Athene reached across to adjust its angle. “There. Now you look the dashing gentleman you are.”

“I could get used to all these compliments.” He raised the blinds and looked out. The carriage was bowling into a busy yard. While the rain had stopped, flaring torches reflected on the wet cobblestones.

With a low laugh, she pulled her hood forward, shadowing her face. “I hope you’re right about nobody recognizing us.”

Hugo did, too. He didn’t want this liaison to cause her trouble.

Hell, he didn’t want her troubled at all.

He couldn’t help thinking that if they were on their wedding trip, as they would have been if she’d accepted his proposal, they’d be able to march openly into any hostelry in the land with nobody blinking an eye.

He had to stop thinking like that or he’d go mad.

The carriage rolled to a stop. A groom opened the door to a bustling scene. Hugo stepped out and extended his hand to help Athene. She kept her head down, and the tight grip of her gloved hand betrayed her nerves.

“So many people,” she murmured, as they started toward the inn’s doors.

“We’ll get lost in the crowd,” Hugo said. “Nobody’s paying us any attention.”

They mounted a short flight of stairs and entered a foyer alive with light and activity. A rotund man approached and bowed. “Sir Hugo, is it?”

“Yes.” Beside him, Athene didn’t speak. The cape that he’d complained about did an excellent job of concealing her identity.

“It’s a nasty night. We’ve got the fires lit upstairs ready for you.” The groom appeared beside them, carrying their luggage. “The top floor, Toby. And be quick about it.”

“Aye, Mr. Treddle.” The groom proceeded up the wide staircase, past a noisy family of six. “Let me show you the way, Sir Hugo, my lady.”

Hugo hooked Athene’s hand over his arm. “Thank you.”

She remained quiet as they climbed the stairs. With a flourish, Treddle opened the door onto a luxurious apartment lit with beeswax candles and a roaring fire in the grate.

“I’ll send hot water straightaway, or would you like me to arrange baths for you both, Sir Hugo?”

“No, hot water will be fine.”

“When would you like us to serve dinner? We can manage the next half hour, if you like. My wife’s roasted a saddle of mutton that will bring tears to your eyes, and there’s a syllabub that the Regent himself wouldn’t scorn to eat.”

“That sounds marvelous. Give us an hour. Can you also send up a bottle of champagne, two bottles of your best claret, and a bottle of brandy?”