An Unexpected Countess. Laurie Benson

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СКАЧАТЬ prowling the rooftops of London at night?’ he asked to regain the advantage. Katrina was the Duchess of Lyonsdale, a dear friend of Miss Forrester.

      ‘No.’ She looked away too quickly. Apparently his friend’s wife knew exactly what this chit was up to. He wondered if Katrina would have told Julian.

      ‘How were you planning on getting down from here?’ she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

      ‘That is the beauty of leaving in such a manner as this. It forces you to consider multiple options.’ The fact that he hadn’t decided how he would make it off the roof was inconsequential in this discussion.

      The clomping of horse hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels on the street below caught their attention and they both crawled to the edge of the roof. A black lacquered carriage rolled to a stop directly below the house next to them and a footman from Theodosia’s house darted towards it, carrying a large black umbrella. Hart had left her bed just in time and smiled at his luck.

      ‘That might have been a bit awkward, if you remained longer with Lady Helmford,’ she said.

      He had momentarily forgotten the pest was beside him.

      She leaned closer and the faint scent of lilacs filled the damp air. Her brown eyes held amusement mixed with curiosity as she looked up at him. ‘Have you ever been caught?’

      He scoffed at the absurdity of her question. ‘No.’

      ‘Never?’

      ‘Not once.’ His chest puffed up at his declaration, then he realised what he had revealed. Damn!

      She sat back and removed her hat. The rain had stopped and she casually brushed the droplets off the brim and crown. ‘I hadn’t realised Lady Helmford was a business associate of yours.’

      He hated when she found ways to use his habit of bragging against him. While she might believe she had the upper hand, it hadn’t escaped Hart’s notice that she had avoided his question.

      ‘And what brings you to this rooftop? You never did say.’

      She shifted her gaze momentarily. ‘I’m intrigued by architecture.’

      ‘Architecture?’

      ‘Yes, you see I came out here to study the carvings on the buildings across the way.’

      ‘But you don’t live here.’

      ‘Of course I don’t. What good would it do me to study the buildings across from my home when I already took note of them ages ago?’

      ‘Is that really the best you could do?’

      * * *

      Sarah was not about to be found out by the likes of the Earl of Hartwick. No rakish buck was going to best her. She wasn’t one of those empty-headed women who would throw themselves at his feet just because he was charming and handsome—very handsome. And every time she was around him, she had the strongest urge to remind him of that.

      ‘Those houses across the way are a perfect example of Mr Kent’s work,’ she continued. ‘I couldn’t very well stand on this rooftop during daylight hours. Someone might see me.’ She had no idea what Mr Kent’s work looked like, but she knew he was an architect held in high regard.

      ‘William Kent?’ Hartwick shook his head and water droplets slid from his hair down his chiselled features.

      Hoping to distract him, she brushed off her sopping wet trews.

      His gaze shot to her thighs and remained there. ‘So you chose a rainy, dark night for your viewing pleasure?’

      ‘The opportunity presented itself and I took it. It wasn’t raining when I made my way here.’

      ‘I see. And how did you manage to sneak away from your parents for this escapade of architectural appreciation?’

      He needed more of a distraction and rubbing her hand slowly along her thigh proved to be a good one. But all too soon Hartwick tossed his head, sweeping away a lock of black hair from his piercing blue eyes. ‘Your parents, Miss Forrester, how did you manage to elude them?’

      Lud! He was like a dog with a bone. ‘I don’t see how it is your concern.’

      ‘True. Your welfare is none of my concern. I was merely making conversation—one impressive night prowler to the next.’

      ‘You can’t charm an answer from me.’

      ‘I wasn’t aware I was being charming. We’re merely conversing.’

      ‘You’re trying to flatter me.’

      ‘By calling you an impressive prowler? Darling, if I intended to flatter you, I would tell you how tempting you look in those trews.’

      ‘Thank you for the compliment, but I still have no intention of telling you anything.’

      ‘You misunderstand. I didn’t say you looked tempting. I only indicated that is what I would say if I were going to flatter you.’

      Insufferable man! If only she could give him a firm push. But with her luck he would land on his back and see it as an invitation to activities he was most familiar with—or so she had heard. Standing up, she wiped her hands. ‘Well, I really must be off.’

      He jumped to his feet. ‘What are you really doing up here?’

      ‘I told you. I was admiring the architecture.’

      ‘And I’m next in line for the throne.’ He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. ‘Are you coming from a rendezvous with a man?’

      The horror on his face was rich considering his philandering ways, but if it would get him to stop asking questions, there was no harm in a small lie. ‘Perhaps.’ Gossip was rich with tales of his escapades with women. She doubted he would be one to talk of a small indiscretion of hers or even find her significant enough to discuss at all.

      ‘Perhaps? Perhaps? What kind of man leaves a woman to find her way out of an assignation by herself? Any man worth his salt would visit the lady, not the other way around.’

      ‘I live with my parents,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘And you seem more appalled by my exit than at the assignation itself.’

      ‘I’m the last person to judge anyone’s moral character.’ As if counting out the town houses they were standing on, his finger paused on the building under them. ‘Miss Forrester, he is old enough to be your father.’ He visibly shuddered. ‘I always assumed you had finer taste than this.’

      She pushed past him, splashing through puddles on her way to the vacant town house at the end of the row. There was no reason for him to be insulting. Lord Baxter was not as handsome as Hartwick, and about twenty years older than the Earl, but he was not an antidote by any means. He was...mature. And why did she feel the need to mentally defend a man she was barely acquainted with? Her hands curled into fists.

      Hartwick went after her and grabbed her arm. ‘Where do you think you’re off to?’

      ‘I’m СКАЧАТЬ