[MacKenzie Sally] The Naked Laird(book4me.org) Read Online Free PDF Page B

drawing room shortly, as soon as they finished their port. Could she slip out now and hide in her room?
    No, it was not her room—it was hers and Ian’s. It was more a trap than a refuge.
    How was she going to survive this house party? Dinner had been torture, seated between Ian and Mr. Boland, a thin, balding man of indeterminate age who was far more interested in his mutton than his dinner partners. One would think the poor soul hadn’t eaten in a month. She’d tried to engage him in conversation—even a discussion of the food on his plate—but he’d answered every one of her attempts with a grunt, a glare, and vigorous chewing.
    She closed her eyes briefly. She’d been much too aware of Ian. She’d swear she’d felt the heat from his body. They had been seated very close together. Someone—Miss Smyth, most likely—had decided to squeeze in an extra chair on their side of the table. She couldn’t move without brushing up against him.
    She’d felt his thigh against her thigh. She’d watched his broad, strong hand reach for his wineglass and his long fingers twist its stem, his heavy gold signet ring glowing in the candlelight. The sleeve of his tightly fitted coat—with his muscled arm inside, an arm she had viewed in all its naked glory just hours before—touched her arm more than once.
    The first time it had happened, she’d tried to put more space between them by leaning toward Mr. Boland. Mr. Boland had glared at her as if he suspected she would snatch his buttered prawns from his plate.
    “Would you like more tea, Lady Kilgorn?”
    Nell jumped, splashing a few drops of liquid on her bodice. She hadn’t seen Miss Smyth approach.
    “No, thank you. I am quite content as I am.”
    “ Are you, Lady Kilgorn?” Miss Smyth raised her eyebrows and gave her a very significant look.
    “Am I…what?”
    “Quite content as you are.” She now wiggled her eyebrows. She clearly was not talking about tea.
    “Well, I…”
    “Perhaps it is time for a change.” Miss Smyth leaned closer, her lips curving in a small smile. “One often finds opportunities in the most unexpected places, you know.”
    “What?”
    “Think about it, dear Lady Kilgorn.” She patted Nell’s hand. “I do apologize for my…mistake. I will talk to Mrs. Gilbert in the morning and see what she can do. Now if you’ll excuse me?”
    “Yes, of course.” Nell watched Miss Smyth slip out the door.
    It was extremely difficult to believe a house this size didn’t have plenty of spare bedchambers, but Miss Smyth had blamed leaky roofs, mold, mildew, smoking chimneys, even rodent infestations for the shortage. She glanced around the drawing room. It didn’t look as if the viscount took such poor care of his estate, but he hadn’t protested his aunt’s story in the green parlor. He’d just calmly sipped his sherry and examined a black and gold vase on the immaculate surface of a small table.
    “Here they come!” The two Misses Addison leaped from their seats as the door opened and the first unsuspecting male crossed the threshold.
    Lady Oxbury frowned. “I don’t understand why Mrs. Addison doesn’t rein in her daughters.”
    “Probably because she is upstairs in her room with a brandy bottle.” Lady Wordham shook her head. “I’m afraid she’s given up even trying to control them. A pity. I cannot like the way they pursue my grandson.”
    Lord Dawson appeared quite adept at dodging the twins, however. He managed to keep Ian between him and the Addisons, then slipped behind the tea tray to reach Lady Grace.
    “Well, if I had a daughter—” Lady Oxbury stopped abruptly. She turned bright red and then ghostly white.
    “Are you all right?” Nell put a hand on Lady Oxbury’s arm. Her skin felt almost clammy. Was she going to swoon?
    “Y-yes. I’m fine.”
    “Pardon me, but you don’t look fine. Shall I get you a glass of water?”
    “Lady Kilgorn is right, my dear.” Lady Wordham appeared as worried as Nell felt.