Chapter 2 (cont.)
Lust shot directly to his, er, brain, so he momentarily lost track of the conversation. Fortunately instinct prompted him to step quickly behind a chair, shielding his telltale bit from Lady Dunlee’s sharp eyes.
Lady Dunlee had misconstrued the scene, of course, but he wished she’d had the right of it. He was more than willing to let Lady Anne have her wicked way with his poor self.
How wicked would her way be? Mmm, that was an interesting question to contemplate. If her imagination faltered, his was more than adequate for the task. Much more. It was currently producing a number of delicious images, completely inappropriate for his present location. But if he and Anne were in his bedchamber--
“Mr. Parker-Roth, did I just hear you groan?” Damned if Lady Dunlee’s eyes didn’t drop to his nether regions, still well hidden behind the wing chair.
“I don’t believe so, madam, but I do have a touch of the headache.”
The blasted woman kept her eyes focused on where his unruly cock was misbehaving and arched a brow. “I bet you do.”
She couldn’t see through the chair, could she? He felt a hot flush sweep up his neck, but he did his best to ignore it. At least this corner of the room was too shadowy for his heightened color to be easily discerned...he hoped. He glanced at Anne.
She appeared to be too mortified or too furious to form a coherent sentence. Her mouth was open, but only strangled sounds emerged.
Unfortunately, Miss Strange’s voice was working perfectly. “Anne, were you actually on the ground with a man?” She might as well have said “soul eating devil.”
Her voice drilled right between his eyes. He rubbed the spot with his index and middle finger and leaned a little more against the chair. At a guess, Miss Strange was not a huge admirer of the male of the species. Not surprising. He couldn’t imagine any of his sex admiring her. She looked like an elderly heron, all stiff and angular, with a long neck and beak-like nose. She wore her gray hair in a bun so tight her watery blue eyes bulged.
“Oh, yes.” Lady Dunlee wasn’t even trying to hide her glee. She glanced at him again before dropping her voice to a stage whisper. “Lady Anne’s skirts were up around her knees, and Mr. Parker-Roth’s hands were on her”--she dropped her voice even lower--“derriere.”