Sally MacKenzie

The Naked Viscount


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      “No?”

      “No.”

      “Miss Parker-Roth, you were speaking to the man when I arrived.”

      “Well, yes, I was. But I wasn’t in the foliage with him.” Lord Motton looked extremely displeased. His eyebrows had shot up and his mouth was twisted as if he’d just bitten into a lemon—or had had a poker shoved up his…ahem. “I was there, and he just came along and started talking to me.”

      “About Clarence’s drawings.”

      “Y—yes.” She had been so focused on Lady Lenden and Lady Tarkington, she’d forgotten about the Mouse. Their conversation had been very odd. Well, the fact that they were having a conversation at all had been the oddest part; she could not remember a single time during her many Seasons that she’d exchanged more than a brief greeting with the man. And then there’d been the subject matter they’d been discussing…“I do think the Mouse knew about Clarence’s sketch. How do you suppose he found out about it?”

      “That is the question, isn’t it?” Lord Motton was frowning now. “Or one of the questions.” He spun her through a turn. “But perhaps more importantly, why is he—and Lady Lenden and Lady Tarkington, I suspect—so interested in it?”

      “Yes.” Jane considered those issues—or she tried to consider them. It was very difficult to concentrate on anything other than Lord Motton. He was so close. She could see the very faint shadow of his beard and the tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and his mouth. And she was surrounded by his scent; she breathed in deeply and let it fill her lungs.

      The music wrapped around her, weaving its magical spell. She and Lord Motton moved together so effortlessly, and his hand on the small of her back was both comforting and tantalizing. She never wanted the waltz to end, but it would end all too soon.

      “What are you going to do next, my lord? We must do something. I have not forgotten Miss Barnett’s peril.”

      He brought her a little closer. Lovely. “I am not so concerned about Miss Barnett’s peril as yours, Miss Parker-Roth. You must be very careful.”

      “Oh?” A thread of alarm twisted through the warmth she felt at his obvious concern.

      “Yes. I plan to speak to your brother about the situation.”

      Her brother wasn’t going to be much help. “You know Stephen is leaving for Iceland, and he can’t change his plans at this late date. Too many arrangements have been made.”

      “I realize that. I’m sure he’ll agree to entrust you—and your mother, of course—to my care.”

      “Oh.” Excitement coiled in her gut. What exactly did that mean? At a minimum she would be seeing much more of Lord Motton.

      She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from grinning.

      He swung her through one last turn. As the music ended, she glanced across the ballroom. Lady Lenden and Lady Tarkington were glaring at her. She tried not to smirk at them.

      She would definitely like to know if they appeared in Clarence’s drawing. “Are you going to look for another piece of the sketch tonight, my lord?”

      Lord Motton nodded. “Yes. As you heard Stephen say, Clarence drew a picture of some flower. As soon as I return you to your mother—”

      Jane grabbed Lord Motton’s sleeve. “Oh, no. You are not dumping me with Mama. I’m coming with you.”

      “But Miss Parker-Roth—”

      “You need me, my lord. How else are you going to find the Magnolia grandiflora?” She grinned. She had him there. “I may not be a plant expert like John and Stephen, but I couldn’t live in the same house with them without picking up some basic facts.”

      Lord Motton snorted. “I do not need you, Miss Parker-Roth. I can look for the flower myself. As your brother said, Clarence was extremely detailed in his drawing.”

      She should let the arrogant man wander around the garden all night, but Lady Lenden and Lady Tarkington were coming their way. If he went out in the dark alone, he wouldn’t be alone for long.

      “That would be an excellent plan, Lord Motton, except for the fact that Magnolia grandiflora doesn’t bloom for another month or two.”

      “Oh.” Lord Motton’s expression of dismay was comical. “I see. Well then, I shall look for the leaves. Clarence drew those, too.”

      “My lord, it is dark in the garden and to an untrained eye, many leaves look the same.”

      “Well…”

      “And furthermore, you cannot be so unchivalrous as to abandon me to those two harridans.”

      “What?” He looked in the direction Jane indicated. Lady Lenden and Lady Tarkington were now only twenty yards away.

      “Nor do you want to find yourself alone and unprotected in the garden should either of them try to compromise your virtue.”

      He laughed. “Too true. You win your point, Miss Parker-Roth. Come on.”

      He put her hand on his arm and they stepped out into the darkness.

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