to help the master to whom they professed such loyalty. She moved swiftly, stomping on the gentleman’s toes with the heel of her boot.
Howling, his arm wobbled, and she snatched the pistol from his lax fingers.
His gaping, astonished face turned to her. “Who in bloody hell are you?”
A quick glance around revealed that everyone else watched her with expressions of equal astonishment. Mr. Adams’s mouth hung open. Nancy’s eyes shone with an adulation that bordered on obsession, and Mrs. Davies’s head bobbed furiously in happy approval.
The offended husband took a step toward her, shaking his head as though waking from a dream. “Give that back.”
She matched him step for step, moving back. “No.”
The duke sat up, the sheets pooling around his lean waist, arms dangling off his bent knees. He stared at her with hard, glittering eyes, alert, aware, his attention on her so sudden and intense she had to stop herself from squirming beneath his regard.Grand . So much for staying beneath notice. Finding herself the subject of such deep scrutiny—again—had not been part of the plan.
He cocked his dark head and merely remarked, “Frank?”
Fallon flattened a hand against her chest, her palms perspiring around the pistol. “Francis.”
“Frank,” he repeated with a decisiveness that rankled. Shoving back the counterpane, he rose from the bed in one fluid motion.Naked .
Gracie squeaked, the sound resembling laughter.
“Gracie! Cover your eyes,” her husband bellowed.
Fallon would have rolled her eyes at the edict for all its absurdity had her gaze not been glued to the duke’s nether parts. Hisconsiderable nether parts.
That’s what a man looked like?It was a wonder any woman permittedthat entrance into her body at all! Even as she thought this, her stomach began a slow churning twist. Her gaze roamed from that part of him to the flat belly ridged with muscle. Her belly tightened in a manner that made her want to squeeze her thighs together. Or worse, press her hand there.
“Gor!” Nancy sputtered from behind Fallon, snapping her mind from such lewd thoughts.
Striding forward, Harold wrenched his wife from the bed. Clinging to her sheet, she stumbled after him as he dragged her toward a screen in the corner.
Shocked titters emanated from the rest of the servants. Scampering feet indicated at least some of the female staff members possessed dignity enough to depart the mad spectacle. A quick glance over her shoulder, however, revealed some remained, Nancy included, riveted to the sight of the duke’s nakedness.
“Out! Out with you all!” Mrs. Davies shouted.
Cheeks afire, Fallon followed the departing servants, intending to hand the pistol to Mr. Adams on her way out.
A deep, gravelly voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Notyou .”
Chapter 12
The duke had not spoken her name, but she knew he addressed her. Slowly, she turned, her breath trapped tightly in her chest. He was looking directly at her. The gray eyes as stormy as the Yorkshire moors from which she fled two years ago. She shivered, fighting to hold his stare and not let her gaze drop. To not reveal his overwhelming effect on her.
You’re a man. Remember—a man!
She inhaled deeply, letting air fill her lungs and fortify her, striving to cool the stinging burn in her cheeks. Men did not blush like schoolgirls.
Still gazing at her, the duke spoke. “Mr. Adams.”
“Yes, Your Grace?” The one-eyed butler snapped to arrow-straight attention, his gaze trained on the duke’s face, not once straying to the naked parts of him that held such fascination for her.
“Whatever we’re paying young Frank here, double it.”
Fallon felt her eyes grow round.
“Very good, Your Grace.” Mr. Adams turned an approving smile on Fallon.
“Thank you,” she murmured, sending forth a quick prayer that he saw only a footman when he looked at her. A footman he intended to give a higher wage. Nothing else need matter. Not that he
Howling, his arm wobbled, and she snatched the pistol from his lax fingers.
His gaping, astonished face turned to her. “Who in bloody hell are you?”
A quick glance around revealed that everyone else watched her with expressions of equal astonishment. Mr. Adams’s mouth hung open. Nancy’s eyes shone with an adulation that bordered on obsession, and Mrs. Davies’s head bobbed furiously in happy approval.
The offended husband took a step toward her, shaking his head as though waking from a dream. “Give that back.”
She matched him step for step, moving back. “No.”
The duke sat up, the sheets pooling around his lean waist, arms dangling off his bent knees. He stared at her with hard, glittering eyes, alert, aware, his attention on her so sudden and intense she had to stop herself from squirming beneath his regard.Grand . So much for staying beneath notice. Finding herself the subject of such deep scrutiny—again—had not been part of the plan.
He cocked his dark head and merely remarked, “Frank?”
Fallon flattened a hand against her chest, her palms perspiring around the pistol. “Francis.”
“Frank,” he repeated with a decisiveness that rankled. Shoving back the counterpane, he rose from the bed in one fluid motion.Naked .
Gracie squeaked, the sound resembling laughter.
“Gracie! Cover your eyes,” her husband bellowed.
Fallon would have rolled her eyes at the edict for all its absurdity had her gaze not been glued to the duke’s nether parts. Hisconsiderable nether parts.
That’s what a man looked like?It was a wonder any woman permittedthat entrance into her body at all! Even as she thought this, her stomach began a slow churning twist. Her gaze roamed from that part of him to the flat belly ridged with muscle. Her belly tightened in a manner that made her want to squeeze her thighs together. Or worse, press her hand there.
“Gor!” Nancy sputtered from behind Fallon, snapping her mind from such lewd thoughts.
Striding forward, Harold wrenched his wife from the bed. Clinging to her sheet, she stumbled after him as he dragged her toward a screen in the corner.
Shocked titters emanated from the rest of the servants. Scampering feet indicated at least some of the female staff members possessed dignity enough to depart the mad spectacle. A quick glance over her shoulder, however, revealed some remained, Nancy included, riveted to the sight of the duke’s nakedness.
“Out! Out with you all!” Mrs. Davies shouted.
Cheeks afire, Fallon followed the departing servants, intending to hand the pistol to Mr. Adams on her way out.
A deep, gravelly voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Notyou .”
Chapter 12
The duke had not spoken her name, but she knew he addressed her. Slowly, she turned, her breath trapped tightly in her chest. He was looking directly at her. The gray eyes as stormy as the Yorkshire moors from which she fled two years ago. She shivered, fighting to hold his stare and not let her gaze drop. To not reveal his overwhelming effect on her.
You’re a man. Remember—a man!
She inhaled deeply, letting air fill her lungs and fortify her, striving to cool the stinging burn in her cheeks. Men did not blush like schoolgirls.
Still gazing at her, the duke spoke. “Mr. Adams.”
“Yes, Your Grace?” The one-eyed butler snapped to arrow-straight attention, his gaze trained on the duke’s face, not once straying to the naked parts of him that held such fascination for her.
“Whatever we’re paying young Frank here, double it.”
Fallon felt her eyes grow round.
“Very good, Your Grace.” Mr. Adams turned an approving smile on Fallon.
“Thank you,” she murmured, sending forth a quick prayer that he saw only a footman when he looked at her. A footman he intended to give a higher wage. Nothing else need matter. Not that he
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