“Aidan isn’t here, Miss Sutton,” he forced himself to say.
He ought to have told her before, it was true. But he had been initially so nettled at her appearance, and then determined to discover if she knew more about where Aidan could have gone, and then just as hastily, he had been desperate to kiss her. To own her mouth with his.
The things he could show her. Lord God.
But then, who knew how innocent she was. Likely, there were quite a few skills she might show him.
Unworthy thoughts, borne of the sinner within.
“You know he is not here for certain?” Miss Sutton asked, her full, well-kissed lips compressing into a pout.
“I do.”
The shove to his chest took him by surprise. Fortunately, he was naturally graceful, and he caught his balance rather than toppling backward on his arse.
“You could have said as much rather than carting me over your shoulder,” she said, her voice sharp.
He winced, for once again, she was not wrong. “I wished to speak with you in a private setting, and you were being stubbornly vexing.”
“Hmm,” was all she said, raising a brow and regarding him in such a manner that suggested she did not believe him.
Not for a moment.
And well, curse her again.
“Where is Aidan, if he is not here?” she asked then.
Aidan.
Of course she was concerned with the man she intended to dupe into marriage. His ardor cooled at the reminder. “I haven’t an inkling where he is hiding himself.”
“Did you come here to find him as well?”
“Why else should I be present at such an establishment?” he returned, careful to keep his tone mild lest she suspect him of having ventured here to sate his carnal appetites.
Not that it mattered what she thought. She was a mere East End nobody.
One you cannot stop kissing or lusting after.
Blast!
Miss Sutton’s hazel gaze was studying him in a way he could not like. Seeing him, he thought. Seeing far too much of him.
“I’m sure I couldn’t say why you might be visiting a nunnery, Lord Lordly,” she said, her voice taunting.
He could not get out of this woman’s presence soon enough. What madness had overtaken him where she was concerned?
“Since we have both quenched our curiosity concerning my brother’s whereabouts, we shouldn’t tarry in Madame Laurent’s chamber.” He kept his voice cold and his countenance—he hoped—every bit as frigid.
“At last, we have found a subject upon which we can agree, my lord. I bid you good evening.”
She dipped into a small, angry curtsy while he offered her an aggravated bow.
And as quickly as she had appeared to upset his evening, Miss Sutton turned her back on him and left.