Free The Perfect Gift by Raven McAllan Page A

as he waited for his housekeeper’s reply.
    Mrs. Clegg perused the letter and a smile hovered on her lips. “Yes, my lord. She asks we prepare the Crimson Suite for her.”
    Stephen groaned, his cock twitched, and he strove to keep the unwanted reaction contained. What maggot in her brain had made his meddling sister decide to house his nemesis in the room next to his quarters?
    “And Lady Mallins?” he asked with little hope his desires would be accommodated.
    His housekeeper colored in a delicate manner, as delicately as a fifteen stone matriarch who ruled her staff with a rod of iron could do. The obvious disapproval in her eyes was enough to deflate his ardor and his balls to shrivel. Mrs. Clegg had been more of a mother to him than the one who gave him birth, and her approval meant a great deal to him. He crossed one ankle over his leg and shifted slightly. The look she gave him was much too knowing.
    “Ah, the Gardenia Suite my lord.”
    His heart sank, though he gave a brief smile at his sister’s machinations. He was well aware of Amanda’s disapproval of his intentions towards the fair lady.
    Now it all made sense. His sister had no time for the voluptuous blonde, who, with a little more coercion would, he felt certain, agree to be his mistress rather than a casual fuck-amour. Several dedicated evenings of seduction had given him hope in that direction. He had hoped the next step would be for her to accept him and him alone as her paramour. Sadly, he knew her inclusion in Amanda’s party was not, however, on his behalf. Lord Mallins was a renowned expert on prime horseflesh, and a well-known raconteur, invited to all the best houses. It was, many ladies agreed, a pity his wife had to be invited as well, because she had no compunction in trying to take a little light dalliance with any man around to a higher level of intimacy. And, it was whispered, she used wiles and powers not of the norm. Those he had no idea about, but Stephen knew she would have no effect on him. His heritage was well-hidden but highly developed. It was his choice not to use it. Something he realized he needed to address and soon. His time to accept or deny it outright was almost upon him. He dragged his mind back to the problem of his guests and their accommodations.
    For all their lack of interest in each other, the Mallins arrived and departed from all such parties together. What they did in between was not mentioned. The Gardenia Suite was as far as possible from his rooms, and in a different wing of the house. He wondered where Amanda had chosen to house Lord Mallins, but deemed it not politic to ask.
    “Perhaps those ladies could be accommodated elsewhere?” he suggested, with little hope of agreement, for he knew his sister too well. “Swap rooms for instance?” The thought of Judith, so close and yet so far, and he thought with dawning horror, so close to that staircase to heaven, was unbearable. He foresaw more than one solitary session to sate his needs. If he could access those stairs without fear of discovery. One untoward noise, and if the occupant of the adjoining bedchamber heard, he would be undone.
    Mrs. Clegg looked flustered. “Oh my lord, my lady is most insistent that where she has placed everyone should stand. She says she has taken considerable time and forethought to ensure everybody is accommodated as is best for their situation. She begs me not to alter her arrangements. I cannot upset her ladyship, it would never do.”
    Stephen sighed and nodded his acquiescence; it was as he thought. Amanda had long held an unconscious dislike for the fair Lady Mallins. He remembered his sister once describing her as akin to a piranha. His lips quirked. In his experience of her, the lady in question was somewhat voracious, and did nip and bite rather well. Whether she would have bowed to his more extreme requests had yet to be determined. Alas, it did not look if he would find out over this festive season.
    As the