Notorious (Rebels of the Ton #1) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,24

first of their number to break that vow. She was, in other words, a hypocrite. No matter how often she told herself she was being forced to marry, her heart sang at the notion of becoming Gabriel Marlington’s wife.

You are getting exactly what you have yearned for, a smug little voice inside her said, bringing with it a vivid image of the man she would be marrying.

She was abandoning her principles with hardly a backward glance.

Drusilla flushed at the undeniable truth as Gabriel Marlington’s fierce features and powerful, muscular body flashed through her mind, the image making her female parts behave in a most distracting manner. It would hardly do to become so bothered—so physically stimulated—at even thinking the man’s name. Not that the sensation was anything new. She’d been a quivering lump of fool for him since she’d first laid eyes on him. She recalled the day with crystal clarity.

She’d been visiting Exley Castle for the first time. Her aunt had been over the moon that she’d been invited to the country home of a marquess. Gabriel had been down from college with his idiot friend, Lord Byer, the oldest student in the history of Oxford. Or so Drusilla had heard.

Eva and Drusilla had been out riding—her friend was a far better equestrienne than Drusilla would ever be—when they’d come upon two horses, bridleless and cropping grass.

“That is my brother’s horse—the other is Byer’s.” Eva had sprung from the saddle before Drusilla could even comment. “And look—” She held up what was indisputably a pair of breeches and grinned. “Let’s take their clothing.”

“What?” Drusilla had shrieked.

“They’re swimming, although it looks like only one pair of breeches are here. I’ll sneak down to the pond and grab the other pair. If we take their clothing, they’ll have to walk home naked. Or . . .” She chuckled evilly. “Would they ride home in the—”

“Yes, yes,” Drusilla had said, not wishing to hear any more about her friend’s brother in an unclothed state.

But Eva had already disappeared through a gap in the trees.

“Eva? Eva?” There was no response. Drusilla had walked her mount back and forth, unwilling to dismount because there were no nearby rocks or fallen logs to serve that purpose. That was all she needed, to be caught without her horse when—

“Eva!”

An answering laugh came through the trees a second before Eva burst through the foliage and tossed an armload of clothing at Drusilla, startling both her and her horse.

“Run, Dru! Run! They’re right behind me.” She’d already caught up her horse’s reins and was trotting toward the trail as quickly as the heavy skirt of her habit would allow.

Drusilla’s mount had pranced nervously, refusing to obey her clumsy urging. “Eva, come back!”

And then he came through the foliage. And stopped, facing her.

Drusilla had been able to do nothing but stare. His body had been wet, drops of water glinting in the light like tiny crystals, his torso and arm rippling as he reached up with one hand to push his overlong hair from his forehead. Drusilla’s eyes had behaved as if they’d had minds of their own, and she’d become fixated on his hips, on the tangle of dark auburn curls, on the—

“Miss Dru?”

“Hmm?” Drusilla looked around, suddenly aware she’d come to a stop.

Fletcher was looking at her, her brow wrinkled. “Do you want to cross now?”

They were paused on the street corner, an urchin lingering hopefully, a scraggly straw broom clutched in one hand.

Drusilla nodded, and Fletcher took a coin from her reticule and gave it to the boy when they reached the far side.

“Is aught amiss, Miss Dru? You look quite flushed.”

“No, no, nothing is wrong. Just a lack of sleep, I expect.”

“Hmmph. You’d be better off getting in a few hours’ rest before tonight than gallivanting around.” They were to have a family dinner at Exley House. Lord Exley’s other two daughters were too far from London to return in time for the wedding, but there were still scads of cousins, uncles, aunts, and—of course—his grandfather, the duke. On her side there would be only Drusilla and her Aunt Vi, provided her aunt didn’t wear herself to a frazzle before tomorrow morning with the whirlwind of wedding preparations.

It would, no doubt, be a tension-filled evening. Still, though Drusilla had never met the others who would be there tonight, she liked Lady Exley very much and loved Eva, who was her dearest friend. But Lord Exley? She shivered. No, he was not a comfortable man. And