Page 16 of Almost A Scoundrel


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“Isn’t that your maid?” Deerhurst asked, peering through his side of the window.

“Yes, that’s Millie.” She’d appeared in the doorway and was now speaking to the countess. “She must be informing my mother of my escape with you.”

Phaedra stilled. It suddenly occurred to her that her mother might connect her outing with Deerhurst with her curiosity at the breakfast table the other morning. And, dear heavens, all that talk of dead bodies in his yard. Lord knew what her mother would make of this.

Another thought occurred to her. She glanced at Deerhurst. “You don’t have views into other parts of our house, do you?”Such as bedchambers.

He cracked a smile, one that made her break out in gooseflesh.

“I could show you.”

She blinked at him.As in taking her for a tour of the chambers in his house?

“The view,” he clarified, the smile that stretched across his face widening, as if he had caught her outrageous thought. “From my windows.”

Scoundrel.

Heat suddenly charged through Phaedra’s veins, though she had no idea why. The man was a reprobate for certain. Mischievous to the core of his being. Come to think about it, there was nothing aloof about him. At least, not that she could find.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Are you certain? I can take you on a tour of my home now.”

She narrowed her gaze. “A simple yes or no will suffice.”

He chuckled. “No, then, my lady, there are no views worth mentioning.”

“Good.”

He arched a brow. “You will simply take my word for it?”

Phaedra shot him a look. “Are you not a man of your word?”

“I am,” he said, then shrugged. “I suppose I did not take you for a woman who would put herself at the mercy of it.”

“And what sort of woman do you take me for?”

“The sort of woman who would march through my house and inspect the views for herself.”

She probably would have done that if the man hadn’t been so captivatingly dangerous.

“You forget, Deerhurst, that I do not know you, thus I do not trust you. For all I know that might be a ploy to entrap me.”

“You trust me.” His grin was back.

“And you arrived at this conclusion how exactly?”

He nodded to his residence. “You climbed through a window, followed me back to my house, and are now sitting alone with me in my carriage. Need I say more?”

He made an excellent point. If the earl had wanted to force the issue of marriage, he could have done so after their moment in the garden. Besides, for some unfathomable reason, she did feel a smidgeon of trust toward the man. Though, she had to wonder if being this close to him was a good idea. He seemed to take up all the space in the carriage, leaving the air between them charged with an intoxicating energy.

“I suppose I ought to be thankful you are not a ravening wolf.”

He rapped on the roof, and the carriage jutted forward. “Speaking of animals, did your elusive feline return to your bosom that night?”

“I woke with him in my bed.”

“Damn lucky cat.”