The Viscount's Sweet Temptation Read Online Free PDF Page B

what better way than exploring one another’s bodies beneath the blankets?
    No, Nick knew Morley too well to accept he’d kept his hands to himself.

Chapter Seven

    Morley rocked and swayed with the rhythm of his carriage on the muddy road and stewed over the events of the previous night. He’d given up on sleep. Long spells alone in the carriage normally didn’t trouble him, but this journey had been anything but normal.
    What a silly chit Lady Harriet was. He imagined his sisters to be just so. He spent so little time in the family home these days, he didn’t know for certain, but their constant chatter and giggles made it impossible to believe they were anything but silly. The idea of them attempting such a scheme gave him a headache. Would Eleanor stow away on a carriage without knowing who was traveling within? Did their father realize the foolish notions these girls might take into their heads? And worse, act upon? He should bar the doors and not leave the girls unsupervised until their wedding days.
    He gnawed on the corner of his mouth. It was enough to make a man question his duty to bear children. Of course he and his chums, Nick and Drew, were much worse in their school antics.
    No, that was inaccurate. What could be worse than a young woman traveling alone? No chaperone, no maid. No sense, to be certain. A woman like that needed a firm hand, and Alderford obviously failed to apply one. Lady Harriet was clearly a spoiled, willful child. Not the type one might consider as a wife.
    If one were in search of a wife.
    And he was not. He had a few more years before his father would begin pressing him for an heir. As he, himself, was not a difficult man to please, the process of finding one should be of short duration. He had no foolish notions of love. That was the stuff of the novels his sisters carried with them everywhere.
    No, a simple affection and ease of conversation was all he required in a bride. Love and companionship would come in time.
    Of course, a pleasing countenance and attractive figure would go far in making the pursuit of an heir a more pleasurable adventure. Lady Harriet had both qualities. While not the ripe curves of a mature woman, hers had been soft against him as she slept. He’d needed more control than he’d been aware he possessed to keep his hands from discovering exactly how heavy her breasts were.
    He shifted on the bench as his clothing grew uncomfortable. Perhaps while he was in Bath he’d find a lovely widow whose bed he could warm. That would banish any remaining desires his body held for Harriet. Lady Newbridge came to mind, or Mrs. Lester, if she had returned from the Continent.  
    An image filled his mind of Lady Harriet’s wide-eyed gaze when he’d begun weaving his tale for her parents. She hadn’t expected him to deflect any of the blame from her. Wouldn’t her brother do as much? He recalled Penlow as rather adventurous, joining in many of the antics Morley and the others stirred up in their school days.
    She had not the skill of a life-long storyteller, but she gained strength as she spoke. Her conversation while they had waited in his carriage had been entertaining enough. Did she enjoy discussing books and the news of the day, or was she properly schooled in the usual limits of the weather and equally dull topics?
    The longer he sat alone in his carriage, where the scent of her perfume still lingered to taunt him, the more curious he became. Was it just her friendship with his sister that made her so intriguing? He hadn’t learned anything more about her last night than he might in a fifteen-minute morning call in London. While she was quite pretty, her beauty alone couldn’t be blamed for his interest.
    Nor could the guilt weighing on him for not stepping up and doing the right thing. He should have insisted on marrying her. The scheme was not of his making, but the duty was still his. He was the only one who could protect Lady Harriet from wagging tongues.