Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

“I’m kidding, real y. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

It was, no doubt, the laudanum, and that was, without a doubt, al Chloe’s fault.

When they reached the grotto, she looked back toward the Grecian temple, but she couldn’t real y see it that wel . It was fuzzy. She did need glasses! But it couldn’t have been that far away. She wasn’t al owed to be out of Mrs. Crescent’s line of sight, although she was the most forgiving of chaperones when it came to anything to do with Sebastian. The breeze felt cooler now, and almost damp.

“Let’s give the cameraman the slip,” Sebastian said as he took her hand and led her into a thicket of trees, then through an opening in a huge hol ow oak tree. He jumped down a giant hole and landed just under the tree roots. “Fol ow me down the rabbit hole, here.” He held out his arms.

“That’s not a rabbit hole,” Chloe said as she peered down at him.

He laughed. “Of course it isn’t. It’s a secret entryway to the grotto. Come on.” He held his arms out and she slid down into them. The red poppies she had picked scattered at their feet.

For a moment they stood there, pressed up against each other in the grotto, listening to the water from the reflecting pond lap against the rocks.

He slid the bonnet off her head and his hand traced her spine, then moved down to her thighs. His touch sent tingles up and down her.

“I’m feeling much better now,” he said as he lifted her chin with his hand to kiss her.

It suddenly occurred to the lady that drugging her suitor might not have been a good idea.

BAM! What sounded like another gunshot echoed through the grotto, but this time it was accompanied by a flash, and both Chloe and Sebastian startled, looking toward the opening of the grotto. Rain was gushing down.

“We’ve got to go—” Chloe stepped toward the entrance, but Sebastian grabbed her by the waist and smiled, pressing her against the mossy wal . Lightning flashed again. Wel , she’d gotten herself into this rabbit hole. Now how the hel was she going to get out of it?

The prospect of being in the grotto had been so intriguing to her—the rocky wal s covered in moss, a table and two chairs chiseled into the rock.

Now it seemed nothing more to her than a dank cave, where, even if she screamed her loudest, nobody would hear her.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was nibbling on her neck and pressing himself against her.

Much as she wanted him, and wanted to give in to her increasing desire for his increasing hardness, she knew that Mrs. Crescent would not approve.

“I thought you had a toothache!” She tried to pass the situation off as a joke, to push him away, but he just reined her in closer.

“I have to get back to Mrs. Crescent!” Her necklace chose that moment to stage its fal into her bosom and Sebastian promptly fished it out, letting his fingers delve into her cleavage. Then he flung it toward the grotto opening. The rain pummeled down sideways.

This was al her fault, the drug was too much for him. “Sebastian! Let’s go!” She raised her voice, but he locked her against the wal of the grotto with his arms and stifled her with a kiss, which, under normal circumstances, might have been exciting. But by nineteenth-century standards, such behavior was beyond shocking. So she did what any lady would do in her situation: she hiked up her gown, raised up her knee with superhuman force, and decked him. But good.

“Owww!” He doubled over in pain.

Chloe dashed toward the grotto opening—looking back at him—and wham—she col ided right into Henry, who happened to be barreling through the entrance at that very moment. This time she was thril ed to see him.

“Excuse me, Miss Parker,” a soaked Henry said as he bent down to pick up her necklace and hold it up, the emerald dangling.

She reached out for it. “Thank you. I’m so glad to see you. I’m afraid I may have overmedicated your brother. He’s breaking al the rules!”

Henry shot a glance at Sebastian, then glared at her. “How much did you give him?”

“Two drops—that was it, Henry.”

Henry’s brows furrowed. “I never should’ve given you that laudanum. Come on, Sebastian. Get into the carriage. It’s pouring.”

Henry held his greatcoat over Chloe as she stepped into the rain and into gooey mud.

Drenched, she bent to step into the carriage, where Mrs. Crescent was already sitting, and slapping her closed fan in the palm of her hand like she was holding a constable’s nightstick. Sebastian lumbered in and promptly fel asleep. A raindrop slid down his nose and hung, poised on the tip of it.

Wel , it was sure to be a date he’d never forget. Or had he already forgotten? Why did she give him that laudanum? It was a drug, after al . She had brought out his dark side, and now what? She couldn’t deal? Considering the fact that she managed to drug, and then deck, the bachelor heir, she’d surely be on the next plane out of here.

These questions taunted her that night as she thrashed around in her bed. Her flimsy mattress made crunching noises every time she moved.