Secrets of a Proper Countess Read Online Free

Secrets of a Proper Countess
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the dark floor for her caftan and her slippers and her mask. She cast a horrified glance at the shadowy form of him, still sitting on the floor of the pavilion, unmoving. He was baffled, no doubt, but she had to leave. If she were caught—She squeezed her eyes shut.
    â€œPerhaps it’s time we had our own unmasking,” he said from the floor. “I’m Phineas Archer.” She was too embarrassed, too busy fumbling with her clothes to reply. “Well? Don’t you think we should be properly introduced after what just happened?” he prompted.
    â€œNo!” she gasped. “Oh, good heavens! This should neve r have happened!” She could not find her other slipper in the dark, and the clatter of the sword warned her he was getting to his feet.
    Startled, she took the single slipper she had and fled in her bare feet back up the stone path as if the devil himself was on her heels. He did not call her back. She slipped into the shadows as near to the house as she dared and straightened her costume with shaking hands, her body still tingling from his lovemaking. She hastily pulled her mask into place as she entered the ballroom, and beckoned a footman to summon her coach.
    Â 
    Phineas listened to the retreating sound of the bells on her costume as she fled. He fumbled for his clothes, tripping only once over the damnable sword. The erotic encounter hadbeen over too soon, but it was still early, and he had time to go inside and find what he came for. She wouldn’t be guarding the door now.
    He almost laughed out loud when he realized that the buttons from his breeches were gone and there was no way to close the front of his clothing. Whoever she was, she’d been one of the most passionate women he’d ever had. Unlike most of his lovers, she was ingenuous, eager to please and to be pleased. He would almost say she was a near innocent, though innocent ladies did not allow themselves to be seduced in dark gardens with two hundred people only steps away. Yet, despite the disguise, and the anonymity of the whole encounter, there was no artifice in the way she made love.
    He grinned in the darkness. His mission was lost for tonight, and Lord Renshaw’s secrets would remain his own for now. He wished she’d stayed a little longer. Just thinking about her had him hard again, his cock pushing hopefully through the ruined face of his breeches.
    Yasmina. That’s all he had, a made-up name. He shook his head, still dumbfounded, and searched the dark pavilion for his coat and his cloak. He wasn’t usually so easily distracted when he had work to do, but she had been exceptionally diverting.
    He found his garments easily, but the telltale buttons took a few minutes longer. A gardener or guest who found one button would hardly remark upon it. A scattering of six buttons in such a secluded spot screamed scandal. Phineas Archer was an expert at avoiding scandal.
    Unless, of course, he wished to be caught.
    He found the buttons and pushed them into his pocket. He pulled his cloak over his gaping breeches and turned to go, and almost tripped over something. It skittered away to hit the wall with a soft chime. He picked it up and carried it intothe light. It was the lady’s shoe, delicate and encrusted with pearls and embroidery, with a curled-up toe that was hung with a little bell.
    Phineas tucked the souvenir into his pocket and strolled casually toward the side gate like the seasoned rake he was supposed to be, and slipped out onto Brook Street to find his coach.

Chapter 3
    P hineas opened one bleary eye the next morning at the soft rustle of his valet moving around his bedroom. Burridge was holding his ruined breeches in one hand and a handful of buttons in the other. The exotic little slipper lay on the desk.
    â€œI don’t tell tales, Burridge, so don’t even ask,” Phineas said.
    The valet grinned. “No, my lord, of course not, but I’d bet this tale would
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