Miss Foxworth's Fate Read Online Free PDF Page A

you get home safely, and not too late, mind,” nodded Eugenia.
    The crowd was thinning now, as many left for other engagements, and the social world that was London during the Season.
    Abby looked around. Her eyes found Sir Philip. As his eyes found her.
    He stood next to a small passageway, and with a little smile he turned and allowed the darkness to swallow him up. The message was clear. She was to follow.
    Lady Rachel was elsewhere saying farewell to her guests, and there was no one to see her as she slipped into the shadows and followed Philip.
    A door stood ajar, and firelight flickered from within. Tentatively she placed her hand on the wood and pushed slightly, finding herself in a study, where the lamps were low, and a cheerful fire was blazing.
    Sir Philip stood by the mantel, waiting.
    Her heart thumped loudly, as she entered, and in response to some strange urge, closed the door behind her.
    They were finally alone.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter 4
     
    Philip held his breath as she glided towards him, glowing in the firelight. Her hair flashed brilliant bronze sparks, her gown gleamed as it caressed her lithe body, and her eyes...
    Outshining the emerald at her neck, her eyes did incredibly wonderful things to his loins. With difficulty, he suppressed a shudder of lust.
    “Greetings, Sir Walter,” she said in a low husky voice that also did wonderful things to his loins. If she did anything more wonderful to his loins, the damn things were going to go off like one of Whinyates’s rockets.
    But she’d called him Sir Walter . Could it be possible that she was still suffering the delusion that she was Elizabeth?
    He decided to find out.
    “Kiss me, your Majesty,” he asked, hoping that it didn’t come out like the needy whine it most certainly was.
    Unhesitatingly she crossed the room, reached up and placed her lips on his cheek in a brief embrace.
    He winced. “Not like a subject, my Queen. Like a lover.”
    She looked puzzled. “I have had no lovers, Sir Walter. I am known as the Virgin Queen.”
    “Then pretend, Lady. Pretend,” he growled, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her body against his.
    She thought for a moment, then slipped her hands around his neck. Her arms tightened and she pulled his face to hers.
    With a groan, he lowered his lips, capturing hers with a fierce heat that shattered any preconceived notions he might have had about such a simple thing as a kiss.
    He tasted her as she opened her mouth beneath his questing tongue, thrusting it inside and giving way to the rush of desire that flooded him. She tasted of wine and lobster patty and honey, and he couldn’t get enough.
    And she was kissing him back with all the passion and enthusiasm he could have wanted.
    His hands roved freely, encouraged by her body which molded itself to his, dips and valleys meeting and greeting each other like long lost friends. Within seconds he had her buttocks in his grasp and tugged her hard against his cock, finding her hot mound burning him through their clothes.
    They were both gasping for breath when he eased back and gazed at her eyes, unfocused and nearly black with her emotions.
    “You taste of magic, my Queen,” he whispered, licking his lips and tasting her again.
    “Oh Sir, I want...” she said softly.
    “What do you want?” he asked.
    She rubbed her hips against his in a wanton movement that had him clenching his teeth against another hot rush through his body.
    “I don’t know what I want,” she moaned.
    “Show me your breasts, Abigail...” The words were out before he could stop them, coming from some inner place where a fire was blazing and needs overrode everything else.
    He stood back and shrugged out of his jacket, ripping off his cravat and popping buttons on his shirt as he bared his own chest. “I want to feel them against me when I kiss you again.”
    With a little tremor, her hands went to her gown and stayed for a moment at her neckline. Philip Ashton held his