awake, the soft, sensual woman nestled against him roused his senses as well.
The scratching continued.
Had Elliot not seen fit to train these servants when to give their employer privacy? Sloane gazed at Morgana so peacefully asleep and carefully eased away from her. She sighed and he froze, fearing he’d awoken her, but she rolled to her other side and curled up, looking like an innocent child.
He slipped out of bed and searched for something to wrap around himself. He grabbed his shirt, tying it on his hips like a loincloth as he padded to the door in his bare feet. He opened the door a crack and peeked at who dared interrupt him at this time.
‘Elliot!’ He almost forgot to whisper. The young man was fully dressed and looking very upset. Sloane stepped out into the hall, closing the bedchamber door behind him.
‘What the devil are you doing, Elliot?’ he said. Elliot held a paper in his hand and a worried frown on his face. ‘I beg your pardon, Sloane, but there is an urgent message for you.’
‘An urgent message?’ Sloane reached for the paper. ‘From whom?’
‘Your nephew, sir. The man who delivered the missive was instructed to see that it was placed in your hands immediately.’
Sloane broke the seal with his thumb.
The letter read,
Dear Uncle,
It is imperative you come immediately. I have learned that Grandfather and my father are planning to ruin your marriage plans to Lady Hannah by spreading a rumour of an affair between you and Miss Hart. They are composing an item for the newspapers at this very moment. Needless to say I am appalled at their behaviour. Come quickly. They will not listen to me.
Your nephew, D.S.
Morgana. By God, what irony. It would not be her courtesan school that would ruin her, but the incredible bad luck of having him move next door to her. Did his father know she had spent the night in his bed? Did he stoop to sending spies to watch the house?
Elliot gazed at him intently. ‘Is there anything I might do to assist?’
Sloane glanced up at him. ‘No—yes. Have my horse saddled immediately. I must get dressed.’
Elliot nodded and hurried off without once questioning what news the letter contained. An estimable young man. A man to count upon.
Sloane hurried back in the bedchamber and began rummaging around for clothes. The difficulty with having a valet was that he did not have any notion where things were put. He gave up on clothes and decided to shave instead. If he showed up at the Earl’s residence unshaven, it would merely make an unnecessary distraction. He intended to go looking like a gentleman.
There was a pitcher of water, some soap and his razor on the chest with the mirror, and he made quick work of the job. As he returned to rummaging for clothes, he closed the door of the wardrobe with a bang. The rustle of bed linens made him twist around.
Morgana sat up, holding the blanket across her lovely naked breasts. ‘Sloane?’
‘I am here, Morgana.’
She smiled when she located him in the room, a smile soft with sleep and gratification. ‘Good morning.’
He took three long steps to reach her side, put one knee on the bed and took her face in his hands, giving her a kiss with the sort of promise he had no time to fulfil. She flung her arms around his neck and tried to pull him down on top of her. His arousal came swiftly, hard and insistent. What would a few minutes hurt?
He obliged her, covering her with kisses, rubbing his hands over her smooth creamy skin. He felt like laughing out loud, an odd impulse in the midst of this crisis, but he did not care. She made him feel joyous. As if he deserved all the passion she had so innocently and wholeheartedly bestowed upon him.
He took her quickly, entering her with a force that made her gasp, but not with pain this time. His Morgana never did anything by halves. She joined his fierce pace, making intoxicating mewing sounds as her need escalated. When coupled with her like this, Sloane felt nothing like a gentleman, but everything like a man. So fast they reached the pinnacle. Together they plunged into an ecstasy of pleasure. Sloane’s landing brought him collapsing on her now damp skin.
‘Ah, Morgana, I was too rough. I am sorry.’ Surely he must have hurt her.
She reached up and caressed his cheek. ‘Not too rough,’ she murmured, making him want to take her again, right here, right now.
But he remembered his nephew’s letter. ‘I must go.’ He climbed off the bed and started to dress. ‘Do you wish me to see you home? Or you may stay in my bed as long as you like.’
She glanced towards the daylight streaming through the window. ‘I suppose I ought to go home. I cannot imagine what they will think.’
He came back to her and swiped his hand through the disarray of her hair. ‘They will think you spent the night in my bed.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘Yes, I suppose that is so.’
He stared at her, wanting her all over again, wanting to hold her spirit, so untamed and unafraid, inside him. She was the woman created for him. He had no doubt of that now.
As he pulled on a pair of trousers, he watched her climb off the bed and search the floor for her clothes. She donned her shift and positioned her corset. He walked over to tie it. When he finished he put his hands on her shoulders and leaned her against him.
He wanted more mornings like this, with lovemaking and easy talk between them, casual touching, ordinary life. She turned and smiled at him, picking up the neckcloth that he’d found folded in a drawer. She put it around his neck and tied it.
‘Morgana, I have been summoned to my father’s house.’
She looked up into his eyes. ‘He sent for you?’
‘No,’ he admitted, the despicable plan of his father filling him with anger and pain. ‘My nephew warned me.’
Her expression turned questioning.
He slid his hands down her arms, clasping her fingers. ‘Morgana, my father intends to ruin me by sending out a tale that you and I are lovers.’
Her fingers flexed tightly in his. ‘They have seen me come here?’
‘I do not know. It would not be beneath my father’s scruples to hire someone to do such a thing.’ He looked directly into her eyes. ‘I will convince him to remain quiet, but he is bent on seeing me disgraced. It will all come to naught, however, if you marry me.’
She went very still, the pupils of her eyes growing large. ‘What about Hannah?’
‘I have not offered for Hannah—’ he began.
She interrupted him. ‘She was to be your means of gaining respectability.’
‘Hang respectability. You and I will do very well together.’
Morgana slowly pulled her fingers from his grasp and took
