A Scandalous Mistress. Juliet Landon

that gentle movement sliding upon the fine fabric of her gown, exploring like a summer breeze over hip, buttock and thigh, as intimate as water.

      Vaguely, she tried to excuse her own deplorable behaviour with references to her exhaustion, her elation, and the years of solitary mourning, the newness of the company, her success and the lateness of the hour. But she could find no truly acceptable reason for allowing such a thing to happen, knowing what she did of the man.

      He had stopped of his own accord when the crowd began to move, had placed the cape around her shoulders and, in doing so, had obliged her to look at him with neither reproach nor approval in her dark confused eyes, but to accept the mastery in his. It was, without question, the most outrageous and unacceptable behaviour towards a lady, which could never be condoned, but the aching fires deep within her body were a new experience that held any sense of insult or shame well out of her reach.

      In the coach, the two men sat beside their partners and, as Caterina bubbled over with chatter to Lord Rayne’s happy prompting, Amelie sat in silence close to Lord Elyot, linking hands beneath the folds of her cape, feeling the gentle brushing of his thumb over her skin and thinking of nothing except that she was in imminent danger of losing her wits along with her closely guarded principles.