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Will got up and sat back down on the opposite squabs, drawing his thumb across his lower lip.

“I… do not understand,” she finally rasped.

He sighed and closed his eyes, grinning as he said, “Consider yourself pardoned.”

CHAPTER 22

Lydia did not know whether to laugh or kick Will even harder in the shins as she endured the rest of the journey in silence, splitting her attention between the starlit darkness of the outside world and watching him sleep. She was not entirely certain if he was pretending or not, but at least, she did not have to think of anything to say.

I want an annulment,her mind occasionally reminded her, but even that thought had waned slightly in the dizzy aftermath of what he had done.

True, he had punished her in the most deliciously cruel way, but that did nothing to reduce the effect of what he had made her feel. If anything, it had made her want to know how that particular sensationwouldhave ended if he had not stopped.

But as the carriage passed through the rusty gates of Stonebridge, each gatepost adorned with a weakly flickering lantern, it was akin to waking in a puddle of cold mud afteran astonishingly pleasant dream. She was back where she had started.

Her gaze flitted to the carriage door, and she wondered how far she would get before he managed to catch up to her. It would certainly confirm whether or not he was pretending to sleep.

“Have we arrived?” Will sat up straighter and stretched out his muscular arms, yawning.

She flashed him an accusatory look. “You were not asleep at all, were you?”

“I would not pretend,” he protested with a smile. “It seems that you do not pretend either.”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“As someone who claims to have such an exemplary memory, I am sure it will come to you,” he replied.

A second later, she understood. Her cheeks flamed, and it took every ounce of restraint not to fidget with the fine beading on her beautiful gown, for he would undoubtedly take pleasure in watching her discomfort.

Do not let him win. Ever.

“No,” she replied, mustering a sly smile of her own, “you were much better this time. Ialmostfelt something.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Is that a challenge?”

“Certainly not.” She chuckled. “Why would I throw down a new gauntlet when we are still in the midst of our original contest? I have not yet thought of a suitable punishment for you disobeying my request to not be touched, but I shall contemplate it. In the meantime, I ought to finish the sentence you so brazenly cut off.”

The carriage came to a standstill outside the front entrance of Stonebridge House, and Will could not have lunged for the door any quicker if he had tried. Evidently, he did not want her to finish that sentence. Did he know that she intended to ask for an annulment? Did he suspect it? Or was he worried that she might ask for something else instead? His fidelity, perhaps.

“Another time,” he said, stepping out. “The hour is late, you will need your rest, and I do not think now is the occasion to discuss anything.”

He offered her his hand.

She took it hesitantly, emerging from the carriage and stepping down onto the sparse gravel. “I beg to differ.Youare rested, and I feel surprisingly refreshed—now is the ideal occasion to discuss what I was going to say before you kissed me quiet.”

“I do not want to do this now,” he replied, letting go of her hand. “I have a long journey ahead of me. Whatever you have to contemplate and wish to discuss, it can wait until I return.”

Lydia’s mouth fell open in shock, but it did not last long, as chagrin replaced it. She should have known he would do this. The moment she heard him call “Stonebridge” to the driver, she should have known that Will intended to put herexactlyback where she started. It was all deliberate.

“You are leaving again.” It was not a question.

Will put one foot on the carriage step. “I always intended to return to London after your friend’s ball,” he replied. “But I cannot have you there, kitten. My estate and fortune rest on my ventures in London being a success. I informed you of my priorities, and until I have dealt with them, you will remain here. I am not asking nicely, this time.”

“Do I have a choice,this time?” she asked, wondering what it was about her that he suddenly could not stand to be near. It was not just her rule—it could not be that.

“No.” He pointed his chin toward the manor, where no lights glowed in welcome. “There will be servants awake if you require anything. The cook will be baking bread. It is always the best at this hour.”

With that, he climbed back into the carriage and called out, “To London,” before he closed the door.