Page 23 of Dangerous

“Yes, my lord.” She hesitated. “If you do not think me impertinent—”

He turned and gave her a cool look. “Yes?”

“Will you return to London immediately?”

“Would that please you?” he asked, his question a mocking echo.

“Of course not. It’s just that I’m a bit curious.”

He sighed. “Speak plainly, my lady.”

“What is it that you do in London? I mean, if you do not attend ton functions and socialize?”

His face relaxed, as if she’d not asked the question he’d expected, or feared. He shrugged. “I attend my clubs, engage in a bit of fencing and shooting, and manage my various estates.”

“And that is enough to occupy your time?”

His eyes narrowed, as if he suspected there was some other meaning lurking beneath her questions. “Estate management takes a good deal of time, if you are to do it correctly.”

“Of course, my lord,” she murmured, her tone placating. “So you have several estates?” And are any of them closer to Eastbourne?

“Yes.”

“Have they been in your family long?”

“No, they have not.”

This conversation reminded her of some she’d had with Jibril when he’d been young and had done something naughty, making her drag every small bit of information from him. Before she could come up with another question, he spoke.

“All but Exham and the London house are new properties which I have acquired.”

“Acquired?”

Again he sighed. “To put it bluntly, I am skilled at cards. Most men, to their detriment, are not. When I encounter such men at a card table, it often results in the acquisition of houses and land. More property which, unfortunately, requires even more of my time and effort to manage.” He raised one hand to suppress a yawn, as if speaking so many words had fatigued him.

Mia stared. What kind of man could take other men’s homes with such cool detachment?

The marquess turned to her, as if he could hear her thoughts. Looking into his eyes at that moment was like standing on a ledge and looking down into thick, swirling fog. What did the mist obscure? A harmless step down or a bottomless pit?

Mia suddenly lost all desire to question him any further. In fact, she wondered if she should not leap from the moving carriage and begin running.

She faced forward, and they rode the remainder of the way home in silence.

* * *

Adam couldn’t help noticing his future wife’s look of relief when he refused her offer to come into Carlisle House for some refreshment. Who could blame her? He’d behaved like a jealous boor about a simple flirtation with the footman.

Hell, he’d even surprised himself.

Of course he’d done that a lot lately. Especially surprising had been his carriage ride to Carlisle House yesterday and his impulsive proposal.

He sighed. There was no point marveling over his actions now. What was done was done.

His jealous reaction today, however, was a different matter. He was not a jealous man. His first wife, Veronica, would have driven him mad within six months if he’d been the jealous sort. Lord knows the woman had never stopped trying. It had enraged her that he’d never said a word about her sexual escapades. Well, not until she brought her lovers into his house. Even then, it hadn’t been jealousy he’d felt.

No, Adam couldn’t recall ever having experienced the clawing sensation in his gut that had assailed him when he’d witnessed his betrothed’s sensual smile at her handsome young footman. Even more unsettling was the haze of rage that had clouded his vision at the younger man’s lusty appraisal of his fiancée.

But most disturbing was the vivid image of Euphemia Marlington’s delicate, naked body pinned beneath the hulking footman, her head thrown back in ecstasy, green eyes reduced to sensual slits as the beefy blond man thrust himself into her, her body writhing with pleasure and her—