Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,90
its master.
“If I’d known you were here,” Pru said, “I would have taken you to Mrs. Blimkin immediately. She’s in the kitchen with Mrs. Brown.”
“Oh, that’s quite alright,” the vicar said with a wave of his hand. “I also came to tell Mr. Pope that Mr. Smith is improving and to thank him for his generosity toward that family.”
Pru raised her eyebrows. She knew nothing about the Smiths, but she was not surprised that Nash had done something generous.
“And then Mr. Pope offered to show me about the grounds and the location for our festival on Saturday,” the vicar said. “I must say, it is quite a pleasing prospect.”
“Yes, it is,” Pru agreed. Now that the hedges had been trimmed, the trees pruned, the lawns tended, and the ivy on the house tidied, she hardly recognized the place herself. It looked so different from the wild place where she and Nash had sat on the grass and spoken of fairy gatherings. The fairies would have to find other haunts, though, as Wentmore had once again been tamed.
“Shall I show you to the kitchens, sir?” Nash asked the vicar.
“I can find them myself, if you don’t mind me wandering about a bit.”
“Not at all,” Nash said, and the vicar meandered away.
When he was out of hearing range, Pru moved toward Nash. “May I speak to you in the parlor, Mr. Pope?”
His brows rose. “The parlor? Not the butler’s pantry?”
She smiled. Wicked man, and she did love him for it. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with the inventory of the tablecloths,” she said, taking his hand. He leaned the walking stick he used outside beside the door and allowed her to lead him into the parlor. Then he closed the door and pushed her up against it, kissing her hard and fast. Pru kissed him back, wrapping her arms about him and sliding her fingers through his hair. It had been cut again, no doubt by Clopdon, but as Nash would not consent to have it shorn enough to show his wounded eye, the top was still somewhat long.
She pulled back. “You didn’t even give me a chance to make sure we are alone.”
“Are we?” he asked.
She peered over his shoulder and looked about the chamber. “Yes.”
“Good.” He kissed her again, his hands running up her sides and along her arms until he captured them and held her wrists. He secured them against the door and held her there, his captive. He had gained back some of the weight he had lost and no longer looked pale and gaunt. He was now quite a formidable form, and she liked the feel of him pressed against her. He was so warm, so alive, strong but gentle.
“You have me,” she murmured as he moved his mouth to kiss her neck. “Now what will you do?”
“I’ve been hoping for more rain,” he said.
“Never say so! The festival will be ruined.”
“But you might be forced to stay the night again.” He kissed her earlobe and she shivered. “I want you in my bed,” he whispered.
She wanted that too. She wanted to undress him slowly and touch every inch of him, kiss every part of him, then push him down, clamp her legs about his hips, and take him slowly inside her.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but your pulse just kicked,” he said.
“Nothing I should admit to anyone, lest I go to hell.”
“We’ll go together.” He kissed her again, wedging a knee between her legs and pressing against her core until she wanted to roll her hips to increase the friction.
“Hello!” a too-familiar voice called from the foyer. Pru jolted and pushed Nash away. He released her immediately.
“I need a butler,” Nash muttered. Pru grinned at him.
“And here I thought you didn’t like servants.”
He moved aside, and she opened the parlor door and blinked in surprise as indeed Mrs. Northgate was standing in the foyer of Wentmore, looking up at the large chandelier with an assessing eye.
“Mrs. Northgate!” Pru said, genuinely pleased to see her friend.
“I might have known I’d find you here,” Mrs. Northgate said. She wore a lavender dress today, quite elegant in style. Her coil of silver hair was lower than usual, being that she’d had to fit it under a hat, but with the plumes of the hat, the woman was over six feet tall.
“I’ve been helping Mrs. Blimkin and Mrs. Brown with preparations for the festival,”