"You don't strike me as particularly happy. As for nighttime sleeping situation, my thoughts were running more along those lines."

"Of course they were," he said, and there was no sling in his wry voice. "If this is your tactful way of asking me about pleasures of the flesh, I can assure you that becoming a vicar didn't castrate me."

"I'm soooo glad to hear it," she cooed. "Monty told me you'd taken a vow of celibacy, and I didn't know if that was out of necessity or inclination."

"Montague has been way too free with his tongue," Simon said, clearly annoyed. "If you're so interested. Lady Whitmore, I can tell you that I haven't taken a vow of celibacy. I've simply decided that I've fornicated enough outside of the marriage vows."

"You have plans to marry then?" she asked brightly, ignoring her inner pang.

"Not at this point." He looked at her for a long, hard moment. "I may change my mind.”

She breathed an unobtrusive sigh of relief, emboldened. "Be certain to invite me to the wedding. I give wonderful presents."

"If I marry, Lady Whitmore, you'll definitely be there." There was an odd note in his voice, one she couldn't decipher.

She was feeling restless, edgy, and it was a shame Charlotte wasn't there to stop her "So, has your vow of celibacy... I beg your pardon, I mean your informed decision...affected other things?" She moved closer, so close that her hooped skirts swayed against his dark-clad legs.

He stood his ground. "What other things?" She wasn't actually touching him, but she was acutely aware of him. His lean, wiry body, his narrowed eyes, his mouth. He really had the loveliest

"Like kissing," she said. And she slid her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his.

20

She expected him to freeze. To stand there awkwardly while she kissed him, to shy back in horror as she teased him with her tongue, to lecture her on her impropriety while she laughed at him.

He was just inches away from her body, and his lips were motionless against hers. He reached up behind his neck and caught her wrists, pulling them down, and she knew a moment's melancholy

And then a moment later he pulled them around his waist, yanking her up against him, and he was the one who used his tongue, deepening the kiss, pushing her mouth open.

She was so astonished she could do nothing but cling to him, reveling in the feel of his hard, warm body up against hers. And hard it was. Most of the men in society were soft, pampered. He wasn't. He was strong, and determined, and she closed her eyes, her head falling back against his deliberate onslaught.

There was nothing hurried, nothing rough about his kiss. Once he took charge he took his time, slow and steady, kissing her with a thoroughness that left her weak in the knees. She never thought she particularly liked tongues, but she liked his. No, she loved his. Any doubt as to his checkered past was now thoroughly dispelled. No one could kiss like this without a very great deal of practice.

She moaned, swaying against him. Who would have thought a kiss could be like this? It was heavenly, distracting, almost...arousing. She could feel a strange flutter in her belly, an odd sort of ache in her heart, and she let her hands slide up his strong back, pressing herself closer against him as the kiss went on. And on.

"Mr. Pag—“ Dodson’s voice broke off in embarrassment as the butler realized what he’d walked in on.

He was in the midst of trying a hasty retreat, but it was already too late. Simon had released her, setting her away from him with calm deliberation before turning to the butler. "Yes, Dodson?" His voice was completely calm. One might have thought he was totally unmoved by the deep kiss he'd just shared with her, but Lina wasn't fooled. His breathing was almost imperceptibly quickened, and she thought she'd felt burgeoning arousal against her stomach.

Yes, most definitely, since he turned his back to both her and Dodson and seemed suddenly fascinated with the wide expanse of well-manicured lawn. She should feel smug, triumphant. Instead she wanted to curse Dodson.

"I beg pardon, sir. I didn't meant to interrupt. Lord Rohan has arrived."

"What?" Lina shrieked as Simon was dismissing the butler.

Simon turned his head to look at her. "Viscount Rohan," he said. 'Thomas's dear friend. I went to see him after I visited with you, to request his presence at Montague's bedside. Thomas had asked for him as well as you.”

"And when were you going to tell me?" she demanded, her discomfort over the truncated kiss making her testy.

Except in fact it hadn't been truncated. He'd had time to kiss her quite thoroughly, and his hands had just slid down to her narrow waist. If they'd covered her breasts she had no idea how she'd react. No truncation, it was a promise, rather.

"I didn't realize I needed to present a list of Thomas's guests for your approval."

"I don't give a bloody hell who comes and goes here. It's Rohan who's the problem. He..." Her voice trailed off as Rohan came out onto the terrace. He wasn't his usual graceful self. He had a decided limp, a black eye and bruising on his face.

"Good morning, Lord Rohan," Simon said. "I'm happy you were able to come so quickly. You're feeling quite recovered from your ordeal?"

Adrian made a bow. "It was trifling," he murmured. "Lady Whitmore, you are looking as beautiful as ever. I'm delighted to see you."

"Your servant, my lord,” she said, giving him a brief curtsy. She couldn't tell whether he was surprised to see her or not. It seemed highly unlikely that he would have come here if he'd known Charlotte would be in residence, but Adrian Rohan had always been an enigma.

"Are you here alone this time?" he asked.

She was saved from having to answer by Dodson's reappearance. "My lord Montague is awake."

"You've timed your arrival perfectly," Simon said in an easy voice, annoying Lina even more. Personally she thought his timing was execrable, but there was nothing she could do about it. They all filed into Monty's bedroom, and Lina took a moment to appreciate its outrageousness.

Monty had always had a flair for the dramatic, and his bedroom was a fitting backdrop. The bed was huge, a rival to the Great Bed of Ware, though the rich brocade hangings seemed better suited to a sultan's palace. There were cupids and seraphim and sea monsters carved into the bedposts, and enough pillows tucked behind Monty to outfit half of London. The French doors were open to the wide terrace and the spring air, but a fire was blazing in the huge stone fireplace as well.

Monty was sitting up, and if his thin body was even more wasted, his eyes were alight with mischief. He didn't look quite at death's door, thank God, though Lina couldn't help but wonder what games he was up to now. "How delightful to see you all!" he said in a strong voice. "I'm so sorry I was asleep when you arrived—that damned doctor keeps giving me laudanum and it makes me sleep too much. Lina, you're looking exquisite as usual. I'd say the same for you, Adrian, except you look as if an angry husband caught up with you. Whose wife did you make the mistake of seducing?"

Adrian laughed, leaning against the bedpost as Lina took the seat beside Monty and held his thin hand. "No wives recently. They all wanted to leave their husbands for me, and you know how boring that is.”

"Dear boy, send their husbands to me and we'd all be happy," Monty said, the immediate strength of his voice fading somewhat. "But we're missing someone, are we not? Where is your so-charming cousin, Lina?”

Lina kept her face averted from Rohan's. She didn't want to see his expression. Pleasure or discomfort would be equally bad. Charlotte needed to keep her distance from Rohan, at least until they knew...

She refused to consider the possibility. "She's taking a nap, Monty," she replied. "We drove all night to get to you, darling. Some people aren't as resilient as I am." She did her best to keep her shoulder between Monty and Pagett. She was going to have to escape, to get upstairs and warn Charlotte before she blundered in on Adrian's presence. With ample warning she could spend the time in bed until Adrian left. The stomach grippe was a totally reasonable complaint. In fact, she ought to start embellishing, to set things up for Charlotte's sake so that her disappearance didn't seem odd.

Too late. The opposite door to Monty's ceremonial bedchamber opened, and Charlotte popped her head in, looking human again.

"Come in, dear girl!" Monty said in a fair approximation of his most florid voice. "So kind of you to visit this poor invalid."

Charlotte had known Monty for years, and she moved into the room with the smile on her face masking the concern in her eyes. "You're looking well, my lord."

“I look like death and you know it," Monty said charmingly. "Have a seat and tell me all about what you've been doing. Rohan, get the girl a seat."

It would have been comical if Lina weren't so worried. Adrian Rohan had been hidden by the lavish bed hangings. Charlotte took one look and blanched, and for a moment Lina wondered if her stalwart Charlotte was going to faint for the first time in her life.

But Charlotte was made of sterner stuff. A moment later she had dropped a curtsy, murmured a polite greeting and taken the chair that Simon, in the first act she approved of, had been quick to provide.

"So here we all are," Monty said cheerfully, his voice weak, his eyes alight with a curious mischief. One might almost think he knew what had gone on between Charlotte and Adrian, but that was impossible. One might almost think he'd been privy to that absurdly ill-advised kiss she'd given his straitlaced vicar. Or he'd given her, in fact, when he'd turned things upside down.

But he couldn't know any of these things. Lina wanted to reach out with her other hand, clasp Charlotte's in support, but Monty was clinging tightly, and Charlotte was doing a magnificent job of looking human again.

"Here we all are," Rohan said in his lazy voice. "So what have you got planned for our entertainment. Monty? Surely you're not going to wither away in front of us? We need a full recovery."