The Earl of Morrey (The League of Rogues #13) - Lauren Smith Page 0,22

She used to marry off her dolls.”

“James!” Letty hissed in mortification, her smile wilting and her blood boiling.

“Well, it’s true—” James began, but he suddenly winced and glanced under the table. Gillian glared at him, and Letty suspected his wife had kicked him in the shin, though not hard enough, in her opinion.

Morrey caught Letty’s gaze again. As he lifted his goblet of wine to his lips, he smiled at her, but this smile was not a sweet expression. It was enticing, seductive, intimate, as though they were together in some private secret.

“James and Adam are right,” Gillian said. “Letty, you must tell us what you wish. Let us start with flowers. Chilgrave has a lovely hothouse.”

“Oh, well, I do like orchids,” she admitted, knowing that orchids were rare and also quite scandalous, given the way they resembled certain parts of a woman’s body, but she couldn’t deny that she liked them.

“Orchids . . . Well, that is a bit unorthodox,” Caroline said. “But we are having a small country wedding, so perhaps it’s all right to do as we wish.”

“If my bride desires orchids, then my bride will have them,” Morrey said, and she didn’t miss the possessive tone to the way he said “my bride.”

This truly was nothing like she’d imagined her wedding would be. As a girl, she’d envisioned a large crowd, hundreds of flowers by the altar, and a handsome young man with laughing eyes and a warm smile waiting for her to come to him. She had not imagined a dark-haired, serious, enigmatic man whose kisses could erase all rational thought.

“Orchids it shall be,” Caroline said. “I assume you brought your trousseau?”

“Yes,” Letty said. Her London modiste, Madame Ella, had worked a veritable miracle in just one day.

Letty relaxed a little more now that she felt she was to be included in the wedding planning. Yet she couldn’t get her mind off Morrey,or his seductive gaze. He watched her for the entire meal, and when it was over, he was there to escort her to her bedchamber. They soon stood alone in the corridor together, just outside her bedroom.

“Thank you, Lord Morrey.”

“You really must start calling me Adam. More importantly, you must learn to stand up for yourself.” He tilted her chin up to face him. “I know there is fire in you. I see it in those lovely, innocent eyes. You must let that fire burn. Do not let it go out. I have no desire for a meek,submissive wife. I want the woman I met at the Allerton ball. You faced danger without fear that night.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued. “You were my equal. Never cease to be that version of yourself.”

She looked to him, mystified. He wanted her to be . . . what? She wasn’t quite sure.She bit her lip and would’ve looked away if not for the spell of his gaze.

“Lord Mor—Adam, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“You will.” He traced the seam of her lips with his thumb and leaned in to whisper, “I shall dream of kissing you tonight.”

He stepped back and seemed to vanish in the shadowy corridor.

She would dream of him kissing her too, and it left her only that much more confused.

5

Adam was up before dawn, pacing in his chamber long before his valet arrived to help him dress. He did his best to rein in his thoughts, wondering how he should proceed, not only with a new wife but also with a virgin. The carnal track of his thoughts quickly strayed to those of her general safety and whether the measures he’d taken would be sufficient. He knew how easily a man’s throat could be slit in the dark, or how a shadow could slip past and into a place it didn’t belong if one was not careful.

A knock on his door halted his pacing. “Come in, Helms.”

His valet entered. The two of them shared a bit of small talk, with Helms teasing him about the wedding. The man was a godsend, humorous and lighthearted whenever Adam became too serious. He always seemed to know when Adam’s mood needed a bit of lightening up.

Helms ran a brush over Adam’s shoulders, removing imaginary specks of dust.“There, my lord. You cut a fine figure today.”

“I shan’t shame the House of Morrey today, I suppose,” he mused, and Helms grinned.

“Certainly not. If you wished to compare who looks finest, I wager you could go a round or two against your ancestors in the