"One more stolen moment, aye?" he asked.
Marcus wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms between them, and kissed her. She breathed through parted lips, and he answered the invitation with a slow thrust of his tongue. He gently drew out her passion until she trembled with the final tracing of his tongue along her lips. He forced himself from her. Her head fell to his shoulder, and relief mixed with the lust still churning in him. He waited, unwilling to part even for his old friend.
She raised her head. "I should go."
Marcus walked with her to the stairwell that led to her chambers. He gave her a final kiss on the cheek. "Go, love." He urged her up the first step.
He watched the sway of the blanket until she disappeared around the bend, then turned on his heel and headed for the great hall.
Distant footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the drawing room where Elise sat. She looked up from the book she was reading. Surely Marcus hadn't returned from the fields so early? She hadn't seen him since last night. If he were to catch her here alone… would they finish what they'd started? The footsteps stopped in front of the door. Her heart thudded. The door swung open and a petite woman, smartly dressed in a burgundy velvet riding habit trimmed in gold, stood in the doorway.
"Have tea served here," the woman ordered Mary, who stood behind her. The woman concentrated on the gloves she peeled from small, elegant hands. "I am hungry, as well. The ride this morning—" She looked up, her gaze on Elise, and she halted the tug on her glove.
No warmth shone in the woman's blue eyes and Elise wondered that such porcelain-like beauty should be marred with a statue's coldness. The woman's expression turned appraising.
"Do Brahan Seer's servants habitually lounge in the drawing room during the day?"
"Just myself," Elise replied.
The woman's gaze sharpened. She stared for a moment, then waved a dismissive hand at Mary.
"Thank ye, Lady Margaret." Mary bobbed a curtsy and backed out of the room, leaving Elise alone with the stranger and an increasing sense of apprehension.
Elise rose, hugging the book to her breast.
"You are American." Lady Margaret yanked off the remaining glove.
Elise halted. "I am."
"How long do you think you can hold his interest?"
Elise frowned. "What—" She froze.
"Let us get to the point," Lady Margaret said in crisp tones. "He is a man, and there are certain things we must accept in men."
Anger heated Elise's belly, but she replied in a cool tone, "Perhaps we have different standards."
Surprise flickered across Margaret's face, then disdain settled on her features. "I have seen it before and with women possessing far more charms than you." She raised a brow. "You are… twenty-six, twenty-seven, perhaps?"
Despite the fact Elise knew it made no difference—tomorrow she would be gone—the barb hit its mark. Marcus never asked her age. He, too, probably thought her younger than her thirty years.
Margaret raked her eyes over Elise in an unladylike fashion. "Men are intrigued by the new and unusual." She waved her hand in the same dismissive manner she had with Mary. "That will change once we are wed."
Elise couldn't prevent a gasp.
Margaret lifted a brow. "He did not tell you? Pity. You can't be surprised he kept the news from you, of all people."
Elise narrowed her eyes. "Marcus is no liar."
"He hasn't lied. The news has not yet been announced. We are awaiting permission from King George." Margaret regarded her with a curious intensity. "You don't believe me." She laughed, the sound filled with disdain and, to Elise's surprise, pleasure. "Tell me," Margaret said, "do you like the way he slides his tongue over your lips?"
A chill pooled in Elise's belly.
"Or perhaps you find the way he runs his hands along your body more memorable. He is a man who enjoys touching a woman—and let us not forget the way he moves in a deliciously languid motion—"
"What do you want?" Elise demanded.
Margaret slapped her gloves against her hand. "You have nothing I want. His fancy will pass soon enough—as it always does." Then, under her breath, "Though it doesn't please me he has so openly taken his pleasure while I have been away."
While I have been away. A clear explanation for why Marcus had avoided the issue of his wife-to-be.
"He has not taken his pleasure, madam," Elise shot back, remembering all too well how he had nearly done that very thing just last night. How she was just hoping it was he who came looking for her to take his pleasure.
Surprise shone on Margaret's face. "Why, there must have been many opportunities…" Her eyes widened. "You mean to marry him."
Elise jerked. "What?"
"You think if you make him wait, he will marry you. My girl, Marcus does not marry out of lust. The Marq—"
"It is quite evident love is not the driving factor in your marriage," Elise snapped.
Margaret's eyes blazed.