speak, but then thought better and licked them instead.
Campbell moaned again.
With a single thrust against her handkerchief-covered hand, he spilled his seed. When through, he lowered his head and latched on to her right nipple and sucked the bud, hard. He also went back to massaging her clit.
She scooted forward on the cushion, her nub swollen but craving more of Campbell’s touch.
He obliged and worked his fingers quicker, even slipped one into her slit.
She gasped and leaned her head back on the settee. She arched her hips, spread her legs wide.
Campbell slipped a second finger inside her.
Spasms rippled through Sarina’s core. She gripped his shoulders, dug her fingers deep. “Campbell,” she cried. Closing her eyes, she simply laid there, allowed her body to enjoy all that her wonderful, eccentric marquis was giving her.
Lycansay Hall was definitely not the wicked place she originally thought it to be.
Chapter 12
Two hours after righting their clothes and making themselves appear at least somewhat proper again, Campbell and Sarina sat combing through Charles’s diaries. Well, at least he was, Sarina had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, her clutched hand still holding one of her father’s books.
He reached for the next diary in the stack and opened it.
For the first time in thirty years, he wasnae suffering from his usual night anxieties. Nae that he could ever forget his responsibility to Lycansay Hall or to Mariah, but having Sarina by his side, eased his trepidations. Though he still had no idea how the house or its most feared inhabitant were going to take the news that he’d finally lost his heart to someone. It was one thing to indulge in sex with Sarina, but to fully drop his guard and allow the Hall to know he loved the woman, was another beast entirely. He’d managed to keep the thin wall between his soul, the Hall, and Mariah, up while making love to Sarina tonight. But he kent sometime soon, he would drop that guard. And when that happened, all Hell would break loose.
Shifting the books over to the edge of the table, the one at the top of the pile fell to the floor.
A slam ricocheted through the air.
Sarina jumped. She dropped the diary that had been held in her hand and gasped.
“Are ye all right?” Campbell asked. “I didnae mean to wake ye.”
“It’s fine.” She straightened, then leaned down and retrieved the fallen book. “Oh, my heavens. Look at this.” She showed Campbell the open diary. “There’s something hidden inside the back cover. Under the tear.”
“Let me see.”
She handed the book to Campbell, who quickly placed it on the table and carefully shimmied the inner hinge, separated the cover board from the decorative paper on top. The tear grew larger. A piece of parchment emerged, and he pulled it free. “’Tis a sketch,” Campbell said. “Of teeth. Wolf teeth to be exact.”
Sarina loomed closer. “Those are the teeth Nevan carries around.”
“Are ye certain?”
“Most definitely. The scroll work on the edge of the parchment is the same design as what’s on the box Nevan keeps his teeth in.”
He wasnae sure of the meaning of their discovery as the drawing wasnae one he had ever seen before or even kent of. “This is nae one of Charles’s sketches as his style was completely different.”
“Yes. My father had a much finer hand, his details more deliberate. But I do recognize the artist of this sketch.”
“Ye do?”
“Aye…I mean yes.”
He was wearing off on the lass and in a good way, as Sarina was easily adapting to his ways. Soon he’d have her speaking with a brogue. “Who drew this sketch?”
“Elsbeth’s father. I recognize the style from the drawings of the mummified cat.”
Sarina offered him a serious stare. “May I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“How did my father die?”
He wasnae prepared for that question. Any other, aye, but nae the one he dreaded most. But denying Sarina an answer wasnae fair. “I ken only this, I believe ye father sacrificed himself, though for what exactly, I do nae ken.”
“He killed himself?”
“No. Nae exactly. On the morning he died, he came to me saying he had discovered the secret I needed, but insisted he move all his things into the main house before telling me. I saw no reason to oppose the request, so I agreed. The last time I saw ye father, he was going to the cottage to collect the last of the items he had there—his diaries. After an hour passed and he didnae return, I went down to