He suddenly drew back. His grip tightening on her shoulders, he sat up straight. Cool air washed over the exposed skin of her bosom. She opened her eyes in confusion to protest his abrupt manner. “What—”

His finger over her lips silenced her. All trace of warmth had vanished from his face. His granite gaze was trained on a spot somewhere beyond her. In the next instant, she heard what had distracted him.

The distant rattle of a lock in the great hall. The muffled click of a door opening and closing. The staccato approach of footsteps.

Hadrian swore viciously under his breath as he yanked the edges of her robe together. “We can’t be seen like this,” he muttered. “You’ll be ruined.”

Comprehension doused her desire. It was like a dash of ice water to realize how far she had ventured beyond the bounds of proper behavior.

The sensual spell shattered, Natalie jumped to her feet and tidied herself. He did likewise, stepping away to don his coat, which had been lying on a chair in the shadows. She had barely retied her wrapper and combed her fingers through her tangled hair when footsteps approached from outside the library.

Lord Wymark stepped into the room. His gait was somewhat unsteady as he ambled toward them, his garb disheveled, his untied cravat hanging loose around his neck. “Ah, Miss Fanshawe,” he said, slurring his words. “Spied the light in here. Thought ’twas Clayton … ah, there y’are, old boy.”

Hadrian stepped out of the shadows. The passionate lover of a few moments ago had vanished. An expression of chilly detachment on his hard features, he stared at Wymark. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“Slipped out the back door. Took a stroll down to the Hare and Hound for a game or two. Won’t tell the earl, will y’?”

“It’s no concern of mine if you choose to ruin your life.”

“The Duke o’ Decorum. Never steps a toe out o’ line.” Wymark aimed a sly glance at Natalie. “But I see y’ found your own amusement tonight.”

Natalie sucked in an indignant breath. Yet her conscience stopped the protest that sprang to her tongue even as the heat of embarrassment stung her cheeks. What could she say, really, when he’d spoken the truth?

Hadrian’s face turned frosty. Fists clenched at his sides, he took a step toward his cousin. “I’ll make allowances for you being foxed, Wymark. The fact of the matter is, Miss Fanshawe has endured a frightening experience tonight, thanks in part to you. She was just on her way back upstairs.”

Hadrian watched her depart. He’d braced himself for an argument from Natalie that would have made his defense of her reputation that much trickier. But she’d had the wisdom to calmly bid them good night.

Gliding toward the door of the library, she looked magnificent, tall and slender in the dark gold wrapper, her head held high. Not for her, the weepy reproaches of a wronged lady. She had a stately bearing that hid all sign of the steamy interlude they’d shared. He took fierce satisfaction in the fact that he alone knew of the passionate woman hidden inside of her. It was a mind-altering revelation that ought never to have happened.