In the House of Secrets

Chapter Twenty-Four | Beckett and Kisses

"I do believe they are staring at us."

Following Lord Farrington's gaze, he turned to find Penelope and Lady Farrington lounging on the lawn. And they were, in fact, staring. Or at the very least, looking intently.

Penelope ducked her head when Beckett caught her watching, but Lady Farrington appeared to care less about being discovered. She smiled at the two men and raised her glass—what Beckett presumed to be lemonade.

Beckett dipped his head in return and then waited, hoping that Penelope might cease her preoccupation with the pattern on the picnic blanket.

"Why, is Penelope Chapman blushing?"

Lord Farrington sounded like a gossiping child, making Beckett want to roll his eyes. Not knowing what to say to that, he twisted back toward the earl and grunted. It typically sufficed as a response in most situations.

"You two seemed to have warmed to each other," Farrington continued.

That was an understatement if Beckett had ever heard one. Is that what it is called when a lady gets on her knees for a man? Warming to each other?

Beckett grunted again.

"Aw," Farrington chided, giving him a nudge with his elbow. "And here I thought you were suddenly opening up to me."

Beckett bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he might regret. Yes, he could admit that he had been more loose-tongued with the earl this afternoon, but the man had opened a conversation about a trip he had taken to the continent, and Beckett found it easy to speak of travel. He'd spent many of his years constantly on the move.

"I am not going to discuss my and Penelope's relationship," he grumbled.

"Oh?" Farrington's brow rose, and he raked a hand through that blonde mop of hair of his. "So there is a relationship?"

"Sod off, Farrington," Beckett said, pushing up from the table. "Is it not time to gather for dinner yet?"

Farrington waved a hand toward Penelope, who had returned to chatting animatedly with Lady Farrington. "Our hostess is still here, so I cannot imagine dinner will start without her."

Well, Beckett would have to do something about that, then.

"Lady Hutton," he called, marching over to the picnic blanket and swearing beneath his breath when her large, luminous eyes met his. God, all he could imagine was the sight of her looking at him with those eyes while her lips had wrapped around his cock. Damn him for letting her do that. He would be unable to survive the rest of this assignment without another minute of peace.

Although truth be told, Beckett had not had a moment of peace since he had arrived and walked into his chambers to find Penelope half dressed.

Perhaps if she'd only had her clothes on at that moment...perhaps they would not have gone down this road.