Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The duke’s hand trailed up May’s calf as she fell into his magnetizing stare.
In a moment, he would let go, step back, and the desire that shone through his eyes would dim into steeled control.
But what of the heat that flowered in her lower belly?
What if she did not want to part from his fiery touch?
May leaned forward, her hand seizing the elaborate knot of his cravat.
She registered the surprise that flickered across his features with smug satisfaction.
Then, he leaned into her, his mouth seizing hers with practiced ease.
A moan escaped May as that hungry hand of his climbed up to her inner thigh, and further, closer and closer to the pulsing want between her legs.
Just a little further...
May woke with a gulp, drenched in sweat.
She threw back the blanket and stared at the four-poster canopy above as her heart beat furiously. She could not just dream of the duke like that. Had she no dignity left? What of her plans? With her mother’s necklace at stake, she could not afford a distraction.
They had shared a moment, and that was all. She would steel herself just like he did and carry on with what she was hired for.
The glass at her bedside was empty. May rubbed her eyes and reached for her dressing gown.
She’d have to venture to the kitchens. Better that than going back to sleep; the dream echoed through her muscles, turning her limbs to goo.
She stumbled through the corridors, taking care of her tender ankle as her eyes adjusted to the dimness, when something white—nightclothes, perhaps—flashed before disappearing around the corner.
Was that Lord Spencer?
The duke’s mansion was too big to memorize so quickly, but she knew well enough the family did not stay in the guest wing. Wearing a nightshirt and britches, with a candle in hand, the man up ahead cracked open a door she’d passed in the morning. Wasn’t that... the library?
What was Lord Spencer doing looking for something to read in the middle of the night?
He left the door ajar enough for May to peek through.
A better woman might have returned to her chambers.
May, however, watched the man pick out a particular tome, and barely stifled a gasp as a wall panel swiveled to the side to open a secret passage.
She waited until the lord disappeared through the passage and the door closed before facing the shelves herself.
Whatever secret Lord Spencer was hiding, the duke would pay handsomely for it.
She pulled on various books before something finally clicked. The panel pulled open once more, revealing a tunneling abyss. She did not think to bring a candle.… Perhaps it was for the best: light would surely give her away, and the tunnel led straight ahead anyhow.
Shivers rippled across May’s back. If she tarried, she would lose her chance to investigate.
With a bracing breath, she stepped into the darkness.
The stone wall chilled her fingers as she felt her way forward.
Every sound was amplified tenfold, every sensation a cause for alarm. Were there rats in the tunnel?
The distant footsteps up ahead became her sole anchor outside her thoughts. Left turn, then straight, then right—
Drawing a mental map was a hopeless task. As the sound of footsteps rose above her, she steeled herself for a staircase. What must have been a simple climb felt treacherous. She emerged onto the upper floor to the familiar sound of a door whining as if it swung on old hinges.
Where was it coming from? She was completely turned around as the corridor twisted this way and that.
May took too long to find her way, and now Lord Spencer was gone, and with it, her one waymark.
May breathed out in an attempt to calm herself, counting the staggered beats of her heart.
Then, a distinct moan sounded just on her left.
There was a door, dim light spilling from the frame!
It was alarming how quickly May was getting accustomed to peeking in secret. She pushed the door an inch as she breathed out, and it was a good thing she did, for she had no air to carry the sound of her shock.
There he was: Lord Spencer, on his knees at the foot of an enormous bed, with his head buried between the bare thighs of none other than Lady Hannah, their ecstatic figures bathed in the window’s moonlight.
May pressed her palm against her lips in case she gave herself away.
But it hardly mattered: the betrothed couple were too busy making noises of their own to mind hers.
May shut the door immediately and backed away into the wall.
The noises continued, getting more outrageous with each moment.
No wonder Lord Spencer had paid no heed to May or the mention of her fortune.
His Grace had no idea just how taken with his sister that man was.
May’s shock gave way to excitement, only to evaporate as her thoughts cleared.
This was the last thing the duke would want to hear.
If anything, a report of such behavior would only hasten the couple’s nuptials.
No. The duke could not learn of his sister’s private—for lack of a better word—affairs. But her agreement with His Grace… Despite their brief encounter, May immediately liked Lady Hannah, who was just as kind to a strange cousin as she was to her brother, just as she was to her servants.
Something uncoiled inside her as the decision set in. She supposed all she could do now was to make sure Lady Hannah’s future husband was truly faithful and dedicated. For her sake, as much as the duke’s. Provided she did not perish in these tunnels.
All the turns she’d made on the way here vanished from memory.
Where was the accursed staircase? Would she fall and break her neck?
She supposed that might make Lord Spencer notice her.
But her humor quickly faded, and her steps grew uncertain.
She lost all sense of time, twitching at every noise.
But no one came. It was just her, stranded within these ancient tunnels.
May braced herself against the unending rock and whimpered.
The sound reverberated against the walls as if she were a ghost.
What she wouldn’t give to be safely back in her bed, dreaming of the duke’s warmth.
Instead, something screeched across the flagstones, and a tall figure emerged from the shadows, reaching for her. May shut her eyes and charged it with a scream.
Elias’s night had certainly taken a turn.
Mere moments ago, he was staring down an enormous pile of documents—the incapability of others in paper form—but even the prospect of tearing through it all brought no distraction to his restless mind.
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Elias normally relished exercising his control. Tonight, however, he was losing it.
He had gone too long without a bedmate. Yes, that was entirely the reason why his sleepless thoughts were flooded with his accomplice. He was too damned pent up. Elias knew better than to succumb to lust—it was a weakness he had no time for.
But that did not mean he did not enjoy letting loose, or that he did not know how. All his expertise came to the forefront as he thought of May—all titles aside—and the things they could do to each other.
Elias was seriously contemplating seeking the physical release of his hand when a chilling weeping noise came from beyond his chamber wall.
He was no stranger to the odd noises that came with a medieval house.
These noises, beyond the tunnel entrance he hadn’t used in years, might have scared a lesser man, but Elias was not afraid of ghosts.
This, at least, was something he could deal with. He moved to pull open the door.
I swear, if they do not block the grates and stop letting the cats slip in—
What flew into him was no cat nor ghost. The haunted, markedly corporeal intruder knocked Elias clear off his feet. He could feel every inch of his attacker’s decidedly feminine curves as they both tumbled backward onto the carpet.
The fall that knocked the air out of his lungs also seemed to silence the woman.
Elias squinted. The light brought in by the moon was not enough to overcome his poor vision, but something about her felt all too familiar.
He inhaled the faint scent of orange blossom and vanilla off her skin.
That, and the rushed rhythm of her breath, was unmistakable.
“Lady May?”
“Your Grace, is that you?”
There she went, using the wrong form of address again. He flexed his hand and realized it went to her waist without thought. Elias should have been in pain, but all he knew was her form imprinted onto him like the treasured memory this would undoubtedly become.
“What were you doing in my tunnels?”
He had little time to wonder about that as Lady May squirmed, and the signals that his treacherous pent-up body misinterpreted sent blood rushing to his selfish member.
It quivered in entirely wishful anticipation.
Elias breathed in sharply and sat up at once, suddenly eager to put some distance between the two of them.
Now, she as good as sat on his knees, dangerously close to his cockstand.
Her hand rested on his chest—when did that happen?
—and so close, he could finally see her face.
Her wide eyes shone with reflected moonlight, the straight Greek line of her nose leading his gaze to the plump lips that would undoubtedly feel heavenly if directed to the right place. ...
Christ Almighty. What was he doing?
“My apologies.” Lady May’s voice was low and breathy. “I was in the library picking a book when the passage swung open... I ventured in and got lost.”