Free The Naked Prince by Sally Mackenzie

it sitting out in plain sight.
    Mr. Maiden’s grin widened. “And next to that book was an even more interesting volume, though in some heathen language I couldn’t read.”
    â€œBut you certainly studied the pictures long enough,” Mr. Felton said.
    â€œNow, Percy, I gave you your turn.” Mr. Maiden waggled his brows at Lady Chutley. “I merely wished to commit a few of the illustrations to memory so I might re-create them later.”
    â€œHa. I’d like to see you try.”
    â€œWould you, Percy?”
    â€œYes.” Mr. Felton crossed his arms, a hot, hungry look suddenly appearing on his face. “Now.”
    Mr. Maiden extended his hand to Lady Chutley. “Are you game, my dear?”
    Lady Chutley looked around the room and then smiled slowly. “Of course, if everyone else agrees?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œCarry on, do.”
    The chorus of support twisted Jo’s stomach into knots.
    â€œWould you like to stroll on the terrace, Miss Atworthy?” Lord Kenderly asked.
    â€œOh!” The earl was at her elbow, offering her escape. “Yes, thank you. That would be very pleasant.”
    He took her arm and guided her out the door as the other members of the party whistled, clapped, and cheered Mr. Maiden and Lady Chutley to misbehavior so scandalous Jo couldn’t begin to imagine it—and she certainly wasn’t going to turn so she could see what they were doing.
    The February wind slapped her in the face, and she gasped.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Lord Kenderly said. “I didn’t realize how cold it was. Would you prefer to go back inside?” He glanced over his shoulder at the room they’d just left. “On second thought, I’ll give you my coat.”
    â€œTh-thank you.” She shivered. She’d rather turn into an icicle than witness what must be going on in the morning room. Well, she’d probably turn into a pillar of salt, like Lot’s wife, if she looked. “Aren’t you afraid Mr. Parker-Roth might get into trouble?”
    Lord Kenderly frowned as he shrugged out of his coat and draped it over her shoulders. Ahh. It was still warm from his body.
    â€œStephen doesn’t care for such public displays.” He steered her so her back was to the morning room windows, but he could keep an eye on what was going on. “Making valentines with the other men was bad enough; the level of conversation was so puerile I thought I was back at Eton.” He looked at her. “I think if I can just foil Maria’s plans a little longer, Stephen will leave the party on his own, perhaps as early as tomorrow.”
    And surely Lord Kenderly would leave with him. Fine. She was not disappointed, not at all. She should have left herself. She would go very soon.
    His gaze had wandered back to the morning room. “Good God,” he muttered, a note of incredulity in his voice, “so that really is possible.”
    She would not look. “If you want to save Mr. Parker-Roth, my lord, you might want to watch the baths at midnight.”
    â€œWhat?” His eyes focused on her again. “Baths?”
    â€œYes. Lady Noughton put it on her valentine. I assume she means the Roman baths.” Lord Kenderly’s attention had shifted to the action in the morning room once more. His face was rather flushed; perhaps it was due to the wind.
    â€œThey aren’t Roman baths precisely.” Was he even listening? Whatever was happening inside must be riveting. “Lord Greyham’s father discovered a hot spring and enclosed it. It’s nothing as grand as Bath—at least, that’s what people tell me, as I’ve not been to Bath—but it’s pleasant to sit in the warm water in the winter.”
    â€œEr, water?” He looked down at her. “I’m sorry; I wasn’t perfectly attending.”
    Jo kept herself from stomping on his toes, but only