“Oh, do kill it. I can’t bear mice.”
Cameron let his gaze tangle with Ainsley’s while she struggled to breathe in her too-tight lacings. “I’ll let it live,” he said. “For now.” Cameron jerked the curtains closed, shutting Ainsley back into her glass and velvet tent. “We should go down.”
“Oh, why? We’ve just arrived.”
“I saw too many people coming back into the house, including your husband. We’ll go down separately. I don’t want to embarrass Beth and Isabella.”
“Oh, very well.” Phyllida didn’t seem much put out, but then, she likely assumed she could hole up with Lord Cameron any time she wanted and enjoy his sinful touch.
For one moment, Ainsley experienced deep, bone-wrenching envy.
The two fell silent, no doubt restoring clothing, and then Phyllida said, “I’ll speak with you later, darling.”
Ainsley heard the door open, more muffled conversation, and then the door closed, and all was silent. She waited a few more heart-pounding minutes to make certain they’d gone before she flung back the draperies and scrambled out. She was across the room and reaching for the door handle when she heard a throat clear behind her.
Slowly, Ainsley turned around. Lord Cameron Mackenzie stood in the middle of the room in shirtsleeves and kilt, his golden gaze once more pinning her in place. He held up a key in his broad fingers.
“So tell me, Mrs. Douglas,” he said in a deceptively soft voice, “what the devil are you doing in my bedchamber—this time?”
Jennifer Ashley, Lady Isabella's Scandalous Marriage
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