The Mistress Wager: A Risqué Regency Romance (The Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Book 4)

Max said nothing, just let his glare speak for him.

“Quite,” grinned his friend. “Coming on to White’s?”

“Not this time. I’m searching for a carriage, since some ex-friend has absconded with mine.”

“Well there you are then. What a stroke of luck. You can take mine, since I’m going with the Marchmains.” He leaned toward Max. “I think Alicia might be changing her mind about me. You and Miss Ridlington here have done a lot to open some previously closed…er…minds, shall we say?”

Torn between distaste at that particular notion and gratitude for the loan of a carriage, Max merely grunted.

“Send my man back, won’t you? They’re good horses, but yours are better, I’ll be bound.” Sinjun’s wave was the epitome of style as he left behind another group that had walked curiously past the conversation.

Max turned to see Kitty in the shadows of a column. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’ve had more than I can stand of London Society this evening.”

Kitty sighed. “I think they may have had all they can stand of us, too.”





Chapter Eight


The Forrester carriage was well up to the task of transporting Max and Kitty out to Mowbray House. There were blankets, which Kitty appreciated since the night was cold and damp, and the springs were clearly of the best quality.

Max, it seemed, was brooding. He remained silent, gazing from the window at nothing in particular, irritating Kitty who was battling her own demons and would have appreciated the distraction of civil conversation. She wasn’t sure why she had done what she’d done. Nor why Max had done what he’d done. She was now the prime topic of conversation in a great many London salons, would most likely be all over the newspapers within hours, and for the rest of her life she’d be wearing the scandal as an accessory to whatever dress she chose.

What had she done? The enormity of their actions this evening crept up and tapped her on the shoulder. She didn’t like that one bit.

“A pleasant evening.” She turned to Max, determined to engage in conversation.

“Kitty, that was a fatuous and ridiculous statement.”

She persevered. “Max, you are an oaf.”

“What?”

“At least that got your attention.” She tried to make out his expression in the darkness of the carriage. “Here I am, your new mistress—who has never been a mistress before and is completely in the dark about her duties—and you’re sitting next to me in brooding silence.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“Well if you’re not, you’re certainly giving a praiseworthy imitation of it.”

That produced a silence for a few moments. She wondered if he was brooding again.

“As my mistress, feel free to remain quiet whenever the urge takes you. One of the things I do not require is a stream of inconsequential babble.”

She sucked in an angry breath. “I never babble.”

“Then you have achieved success in the first rule of being a mistress.”

“You’re being quite unpleasant.” She sighed. “You are regretting this evening, I suppose.”

A smothered oath emanated from the shadowy presence beside her and suddenly she was seized in a grip of iron, her skirts pushed roughly upward and a cold hand thrust between her thighs. “I am not regretting this, Kitty.” He fondled her, his hands determined and powerful. “I am only regretting we’re not in my bedroom.”

She gasped as a finger slid its way into her sex. “Max…”

“Hush.” He pulled her closer and managed to undo her cloak with the one unoccupied hand. She bit back a cry of surprise as he tore her bodice as if it were tissue paper, baring her breasts to the icy air of the carriage.

She shivered, as much from what his finger was doing as from the bitter cold blast making her nipples tighten painfully. Then his hot mouth found one and she was lost.

“Oh my God…” His tongue caressed and sucked and teased her tender nub, sending fiery bolts of lightning downward toward where his finger was probing, stroking, withdrawing and entering her again. Closing her eyes, Kitty made a conscious effort to let go of her tension, to relax into Max’s touch. She was his mistress now and he could use her as he wanted.

She hoped he would want a lot of this…

“This is how I want you, Kitty,” he breathed, his lips scant inches from her throbbing breast. “Bared for my eyes, writhing for my hands, my lips…my pleasure, and yours too.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Oh yes.”

“You will be on fire tonight. I promise.”

He withdrew from her, leaving her bereft and gasping for air. “Why did you stop?”

“Because we’re almost there.”

She had to struggle to regain her balance, to recall that they were in a carriage on the way to Mowbray House. Just those few moments beneath Max’s sensual assault…and she had lost herself.

It should have been frightening, and would have been to a well-brought up and proper lady. Pulling her clothes into some semblance of order, Kitty shrugged at herself. Obviously she was none of those things, because she wasn’t frightened at all. She was intrigued, aroused and—yes—ready for more.

“I apologise for the dress. I will, of course, provide you with another at the earliest opportunity.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

She sat up, straightening her spine against the squabs. “I would expect no less from my new protector. The finest silk, I assume?” She kept her voice light.

“If it stays cold, you might prefer flannel.”

“You have a valid point. But I doubt flannel would rip quite so readily, even under your strong grasp.”

Max chuckled. “Well played, Kitty.” She felt rather than heard him turn his head toward her. “We’ll do, you know. We’ll do well together.”

“I hope so. But we’ve certainly come a long way from a mildly shocking breakfast to…this.”

“We have. But then again, are we run-of-the-mill people? The decorous and unwed Miss Ridlington? The permanent bachelor Mr. Seton-Mowbray? Should we have met at the library and exchanged books? Or perhaps taken a daring stroll around the Elgin Marbles without a maid in attendance?”

She shook her head. “No. No, you’re right. We are definitely not those people.”

“Well then, dear Kitty.” The carriage slowed. “I have no hesitation in welcoming you to Mowbray House as my mistress. You will have a room of your own next to mine, and my staff will see you settled comfortably. And within the hour I shall expect you to be naked and awaiting my summons.” He paused for an instant. “Pleasure awaits.”

She couldn’t answer him. Unformed words trembled on her lips, but she could not find her voice. Which was a good thing, since they had arrived and a servant was already opening the door. It would not have done for the man to have overheard his master’s guest whispering “yes, I’ll be naked. Take me, Max”.

No, that would not have done at all.



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