Chapter 2 (cont.)
Lady Anne moaned--and not with suppressed desire. No matter. The sound, throaty and deep, caused his eager cock to grow another inch.
Blast it, this was most definitely not the time or place to entertain salacious thoughts concerning Lady Anne. They were in a very sticky situation. Lady Dunlee was by far the biggest gossip in London if not in all of England.
Miss Strange’s jaw had dropped almost to her slippers, and her throat worked exactly as if she were indeed a heron trying to swallow a large fish whole. “Ah, ah.”
“I fell.” Lady Anne had found her lovely voice again. “I wasn’t...there was nothing...” She took a deep breath and scowled at Lady Dunlee. “It was all your cat’s fault.”
Good God, didn’t Anne realize she was teetering on the edge of social annihilation by accusing the woman’s pet of misbehavior? It was akin to jumping in front of a speeding carriage. Lady Dunlee could--and likely would--take instant umbrage and flatten Anne’s reputation with just a well chosen word or two.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should sit down and discuss the matter over a nice, calming dish of tea.” He’d prefer a large glass of brandy, but even his sodden brain knew he dare not ask for that. At least his dimensions had subsided sufficiently so he could risk Lady Dunlee’s scrutiny long enough to take a seat. In fact, other pains were overtaking the ache in his crotch. His shoulder and hip throbbed from where he’d landed on the pavement and his head threatened to explode. His knees felt a touch wobbly and his stomach was considering revolt.
The ladies ignored him.
Lady Dunlee had swelled up like an angry feline. “How can you possibly say Miss Whiskers is to blame for your sins?”
“Because she is to blame.” Lady Anne clasped her hands as though to keep from strangling Lady Dunlee. “And they aren’t sins.”
Lady Dunlee’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “Rolling around on the ground in passionate--”
Anne cut her off. “The entire incident was an accident. If your cat hadn’t darted past just then, Harry would not have taken off after her and pulled Mr. Parker-Roth backward, causing us both to fall.”
“Ah.” Lady Dunlee’s lips pulled into a rather dangerous smile. “And I suppose Miss Whisker’s presence somehow compelled you to kiss and caress Mr. Parker-Roth before your dog pulled you over?”