Page 28 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

Walking past the house, he found another walkway leading to a door at the rear of the house. Light shone from the windows near the door, and he concluded that the room must be the kitchen, where the servants were still cleaning the dinner dishes. That would mean that this door was the trade entrance, but if so, where had that first path led? He decided that it deserved a second, closer look. There was a gate in the property wall beyond the door, but the kitchen windows spilled too much light on it for him to examine it. He continued following the wall, turning at the side street. At the very back, where the wall turned the corner, stood another building. There were windows along the upper floor, but the ground floor had none, only two very wide wooden doors—this, then, was the mews where the horses and carriage were kept.

Marveling at the stables that would have dwarfed the cottage where he’d been raised, he walked on. The wall offered no handy tree to climb up and over it, though he did notice that a large tree on the other side hugged the wall. Perhaps, if he took a running jump, he could grab the top of the stone barrier and pull himself up. The tree would provide a handy way to climb down, as well as a quick exit.

He completed the tour and wound up at the side of the house, having found no other gates or breaks in the solid wall. Shivering, he tucked his hands in his pockets for warmth—bloody stupid gloves—as he studied the house from this angle. What sort of people, he wondered, would live in a house this size? How many of them were there? What in the world did they put in all the rooms? He couldn’t imagine what one would do with all that space. Or how many servants it must take to clean it.

The gas streetlamp a few feet behind him gave him enough light to see, and he moved closer. Light shone from several of the windows on the floor above, but they were all curtained. It would be safe to explore the area.

He was only a few feet from the small side door when it swung open, and a figure rushed out. Desmond stood, rooted to the ground, staring at the woman hurrying toward him.

“Thisbe!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

DESMOND COULDN’T MOVE, couldn’t think, as Thisbe ran to him. She threw herself against him, and then he was kissing her, reason dismissed, lost in the feel of her body in his arms, her mouth on his. Emotions swirled through him—astonishment, confusion, elation—and all were overlaid with a shimmering passion.

His world had just exploded in front of him and he was utterly lost, but this heat was real, this hunger and urgency. Her lithe body pressed into him, her mouth hot and seeking, opening beneath his—all this was real. And right now nothing else mattered.

One hand moved up, tangling in the mass of her hair. Good God, her hair was down, spilling over his hand, sliding between his fingers, silken and rich. His other hand moved lower, curving over her buttocks and pressing her more tightly to him. His desire was evident and he wanted her to feel that, wanted to feel her against him.

His lips left hers and traveled down her neck, and he buried his face in the fall of hair. Her hair smelled of lavender, the scent intoxicating. She turned her face toward his, murmuring her name, and the touch of her breath on his skin sent a shiver through him.

“You’re cold,” she whispered, pulling away. “Come inside.” She took his hand, pulling him toward the open door, and he followed, trying to rein in his surging feelings, trying to think. What the devil was going on? How could Thisbe just appear, like a genie from a lamp?

“Do you live here?” he blurted.

She gave a little laugh and pulled him into a short, empty hallway. “Of course I do, silly. Why else did you come here to see me?”

Why, indeed. “Um, yes, of course, it’s just I thought perhaps you were visiting,” he said, relieved that he was able to pull a reasonable excuse out of his stunned mind. “Or—or...you worked here.” Now that was stupid; clearly she couldn’t be a maid. “Your experiments, I mean.” Another daft idea—why would she come to this grand home to mix chemicals?—but she didn’t seem to care, and still smiled at him in that wonderful way.

“I do conduct my experiments here. But I live here, as well.” She squeezed his hand.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. “You are so beautiful.”

She was obviously dressed for bed, her hair down and a brocade dressing gown wrapped around her, a delicate bit of a white cotton nightgown peeking out at the top. Her cheeks were red from the cold, and her lips were soft and dark from their kisses. Desire clenched like a fist in his gut.

Thisbe glanced away, looking embarrassed and gratified at the same time. “How did you find me? Did you follow me home yesterday?”

“Yes,” he blurted. He was beginning to calm down, his mind starting to work again. Thank God he hadn’t entered the place; he didn’t know what he would have done if she had found him creeping through her house in the dark. “Yes,” he repeated. “Of course. Yesterday.”

“I never saw you. You must be awfully good.”

He shrugged. “I...hailed a hack after you boarded the omnibus.”

“Oh. Then you saw me get into the carriage.”

“Yes.” He didn’t know what she was talking about, but it seemed the safest answer. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have. It was just... I was curious. I wondered why you never let me walk you home.”

“I’m glad you did,” she admitted and went up on tiptoe to plant a light kiss on this lips. “I was afraid to tell you who I was, but when I saw you from my window, I was so very happy.”

“So you are related to, um, the duke?” he asked tentatively.

“I’m his daughter.”

It had been obvious from the moment he saw her, but still Desmond felt the blood drain out of his face. “Why, I don’t understand... Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Here. Sit down.” She led him over to the well-worn wooden staircase and sat down on a step, tugging him down with her. “I’ll tell you everything.”

THISBE COULD HARDLY describe the feelings churning around inside her; the fact was she could hardly even sort them out. She’d been caught in her lie, which should displease her, but it didn’t at all. When she saw Desmond loitering outside, looking up at her window, all she felt was a rush of joy. He’d tracked her down, which was really not what one wanted a man to do normally, but somehow she found it very satisfying that he liked her so much he’d gone to the trouble of following her. And how sneaky he had been! She had to admire his skill...which was also not what she would usually say.