Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,55

had ever called him friend before.

‘If we are friends then surely you should not be calling me my lord.’

She turned her head to give him an appraising glance from those clear hazel eyes. They twinkled now with mischief.

‘What should it be, then—viscount? Or perhaps Markham?’

His smile grew.

‘Try Jasper.’

‘Jasper.’ He liked the sound of it on her lips, the slight hesitation in her voice as she tried it out. She nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘And you must call me Susannah.’

‘Thank you.’

She leaned back on the sofa and sipped at her drink, comfortable in his company, not worrying when her shoulder brushed his.

‘No, you have been most gentlemanly—’ A giggle escaped her. ‘Perhaps that is the wrong word—I have never known a gentleman prepare a meal before. And it was delicious. The baby is safely delivered and peacefully sleeping with her mother, the other girls are resting. Did I tell you the meal was delicious, sir? All is right with the world.’

‘A good day’s work, Miss Prentess.’

‘Yes indeed.’ She smiled, and as he watched her eyelids began to close. Deftly he reached across and took the rummer from her fingers as she dropped into a deep sleep.

* * *

Susannah opened her eyes. She was lying on the sofa, her head cradled on a pillow, and she was tucked around with blankets. She shifted her head and saw the viscount stretched out in the chair opposite, his feet resting on a footstool and his many-caped driving coat thrown over him. He stirred in his chair.

‘Good morning, Miss Prentess.’

She sat up and immediately put one hand to her head as it began to pound in the most unpleasant manner.

‘I did not sleep in Mrs Gifford’s bed, then.’

‘I did not like to disturb you.’

‘I brought this bedding downstairs for you...’

‘There was plenty for two.’ He rose, throwing off the coat and the blanket beneath it. His hair was a little tousled and stubble shadowed his cheeks, but she thought he looked remarkably well after spending the night in an armchair. ‘I shall see if Bessie has built up the fire in the kitchen. I think we should have some coffee.’

Susannah said nothing as he went out. She remembered sitting here last night, talking to him. She remembered drinking the cider but then...nothing. She looked down. She was still fully dressed, neither she nor anyone else had made any attempt to disrobe her. Her hand crept to her neck. She had been alone, asleep and in the company of a strange man—a nobleman, moreover, with a reputation for breaking hearts—and he had made no attempt upon her honour. In fact, he had given her his own pillow and wrapped her in the blankets she had brought down for his comfort.

She stood up and was relieved to find her head did not feel any worse for the effort. Walking to the window, she drew back the curtains to let in the morning light. It was still early and the sun had not yet risen but its effects could be seen in the clear blue sky with its scattering of blush-pink clouds. A movement caught her eye and she saw Jasper step out on to the drive.

When had she begun to think of him as Jasper? A memory surfaced. She recalled declaring that they were friends now. With a groan she put her head in her hands. Had she been drunk last night? What else had she said to him? She raised her head to watch him striding towards the stables. He was hatless, his thick black hair gleaming and he moved with an easy grace that made her pulse stir. Quickly she turned away from the window. It was madness to think of a man in that way. It was frightening.

She bundled up the bedding and carried it upstairs, taking the time to wash her face and hands and re-pin her hair before returning to the parlour, where she busied herself relighting the fire. She wanted the coffee Jasper had promised and he did not disappoint her. He entered with a tray balanced on one hand and looking so assured that she laughed.

‘You add the accomplishments of a waiter to your many skills, my lord.’

‘Obviously a misspent youth.’ He put the tray down on the small dining table and held out a chair for her. ‘I’m afraid there are no fresh-baked muffins but there is some toast, if you would care for it.’

She joined him at the table and helped herself to a piece of toast while Jasper