Page 15 of A Spinster for the Rakish Duke (Notorious Sisters of London #3)

Chapter Fourteen

D onovan could not sleep. If he were in his own flat, he might have had a drink or even a rare indulgence in pipe tobacco on his balcony to help ease his mind and allow the weariness of the world to take him.

But here, in the home of Emma’s brother, he had no such comforts.

Not even a place he could sit with the assumption of quiet or privacy.

The occupancy of the small place had been pushed to its limit, and any room that contained the potential for comfort was currently occupied as sleeping quarters.

With the exception of Benjamin’s office, perhaps, but that place would do little to ease Donovan's mind as it was.

Soon, Donovan found himself pacing the halls in the dark of the night as he tried to find a way to distract his troubled mind.

He would pause the smallest bit whenever he would walk by the room where Emma slept.

He considered knocking, perhaps trying to talk to her.

About what wasn’t precisely clear to him, but he felt confident that if anyone could bring him peace of mind it would be Emma.

Still, he tried to drive the thought from his mind. Besides being an extremely improper thing to do, it would also be rather rude to awaken someone in the middle of the night because he could not find sleep. It would be like disturbing someone’s meal to remark on the lateness of your own dinner.

That was Donovan’s feelings on the matter until he heard something one of the many times he paced by her door.

It was there, and so faint that he almost thought he had nothing but his own footsteps, but the next time he caught it, the steps were slightly out of sync.

Emma was pacing as well; Donovan was sure of it.

Would it be too coarse to disturb her own sleeplessness?

Would that be a boundary overstepped or perhaps even a boundary he was willing to test?

The internal debate was arduous, but brief, as Donovan stepped forward and knocked on the door. He did so softly, not wanting to appear threatening, but he also tried to do so loud enough that the noise could be mistaken for nothing else.

The pause before the door opened was long enough to make Donovan intensely uncomfortable. Had he finally gone too far? But there she was, clearly having been awake and not disturbed by his intrusion but instead a mixture of curious and concerned.

“Mr. Connor? What brings you at such a late hour? Is everything well?” she asked him. She didn’t open the door fully, but he could tell she wore a robe over her slip, one she likely borrowed from her brother given it was much too large for her.

“Truthfully, Miss Bradford, I cannot sleep. I get the impression that you are suffering from the same malady. I thought, at the very least, that we might as well suffer together,” Donovan expressed.

Normally, he would have been a bit more subtle than that, but his tiredness had addled him, and he had not the energy to step around the subject.

Emma opened her mouth to speak but then seem to consider the matter a moment more.

“It’s true; I cannot sleep either. Current matters race through my mind and wrest me from the hold of exhaustion, much as I would like to give over to it.

What do you think we should do?” Emma’s question was genuine as she was exacerbated by the whole tired affair and simply wanted to rest.

“Personally, I suggest we don’t talk of any daytime matters and make an attempt at idle chatter instead until we have grown relaxed enough to let sleep take us. That is assuming that I am not proving to be an inconvenience,” Donovan was quick to add.

“Inconvenience? No, not at all. The company is as welcome to me as it is to you, I am sure,” she told him confidently.

She then thought for a moment. It would be improper to invite him into the room, but they truly had little elsewhere they could go.

Even it was improper, they had skirted so much already.

No one would know, and Donovan was a good friend.

Emma told herself many things to sooth her guilt, but in reality, she didn’t need to hear any of it.

She was perfectly fine with Donovan being so close, even if she really wasn’t supposed to be.

They sat across from one another, letting the silence of the night surround them. Their bodies were tired, but their minds awake. They both simply wanted something, anything to cling to, anything to make them forget about their troubles.

“The last thing I wish to discuss is the case, but I am at a loss to come up with another topic,” Donovan admitted.

“Do we need to talk at all?” Emma asked.

“Do you enjoy my company to the degree that my presence alone is enough to entertain?” Donovan asked with a hint of humor in his voice,

“I said we don’t have to talk. I didn’t say we had to do nothing,” Emma clarified.

Donovan arched an eyebrow “What are you suggesting as an alternative?”

“I don’t know,” Emma said uncertainly, not realizing her insinuation for another moment before her eyes grew wide. “Nothing untoward, of course.”

It was Donovan's turn to be thoughtful. “Is it obvious that you wouldn’t want something like that? I think it would have been fair for me to assume otherwise.”

“Mr. Connor, now it’s your turn to tell me what you’re insinuating,” Emma practically huffed.

“Not to be too crude, but that letter you sent me, a while back before the ball. Well, it revealed to me exactly how creative you are. Or perhaps it was all just suggestion,” Donovan posited, clearly teasing her.

“Donovan,” Emma hissed between her teeth. Even in the dark, Donovan could see how red her face had become. “After I invited you into my room, you go and try and embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you?” He smiled. “I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t bring it up, but it comes to mind from time to time, the letter. It had a passion that seemed so atypical of you but putting you in that light is something that comes a lot easier to me now,” he confessed to her.

Emma looked uncertain, wavering back and forth, emotions playing across her face in the dark. “Mr. Connor, if this is your attempt at a compliment, I am finding it confusing at best and off-putting at worst.”

Donovan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Bradford, this is all coming out all wrong.

I meant that my assumption that you weren’t as sensual as the letter insinuated was not just wrong but incorrect of me to make.

You are a powerful woman with a... sensual aura,” he said, and it was his turn to look away.

“You should be proud of that. That is all I wanted to convey.”

“Oh,” and that was all Emma said for a while before she followed up. “Mr. Connor, I want to ask you a question. It is a question that might prove a touch... troublesome, but if you could answer it truthfully for me, then I would appreciate it.”

Donovan looked uncertain but then nodded to Emma. “Anything I can do to help, I want to do for you. No matter what,” he said confidently, the sureness and determination in his voice putting a small smile on Emma’s face.”

“Very good. Now, for my question,” Emma took a deep breath, as if to prepare herself. “Do you find me appealing?”

“Appealing?” Donovan asked uncertainly.

“Attractive. You spoke of the letter yourself. Is it the contents you find appealing, or is the person behind them what is important?” Emma asked. The question struck Donovan as slightly odd, but when he heard no playfulness in her voice, he knew it was important to give a straight answer.

“Miss Bradford, as I was trying to tell you before, the contents of the letter are very, ahem, flattering. But it is the view of the person before and in context to your very interesting letter, not the letter itself. Of course, I find you attractive. I wouldn’t have responded in the way I did otherwise,” he explained.

“You mean you wouldn’t have kissed me?” Emma asked.

Donovan shook his head. “Believe it or not, Miss Bradford, I don’t make a habit of kissing most women I meet.”

“I’ll choose to believe,” Emma said with a smile that quickly faded.

“It’s a shame, you know, that the timing worked out the way it did.

I think I would have really liked to have kissed you again,” she admitted.

She almost instantly regretted saying it.

She believed the words, but the regret lay in the harm the words could cause.

It was salt in the wound for both of them to know what could never be.

“You don’t still want to kiss me again?” Emma could see Donovan’s wry smile, even in the dark. He was smiling widely now.

“I think it best I don’t answer that question,” Emma said, her voice growing even quieter.

“Doesn’t that sort of answer the question, then? Not saying anything at all, I mean,” Donovan observed.

“I cannot answer that question, Mr. Connor. For I believe lying is a mortal sin, but I also believe it is terrible for a woman to be disloyal to her fiancé. Please,” and her voice was truly pleading, “don’t put me in a position between my morals.”

Donovan stood and strode over to her. He leaned heavily against her chair; his imposing size loomed over her. It didn’t make her feel endangered though. In fact, quite the opposite; she wanted to embrace him and have him hold her close.

He continued to lean in, his breath on her flesh.

She felt, or thought she felt, the trace of his lips on her forehead.

Suddenly Donovan's weight shifted away, causing the air around Emma to feel cool. “I’m sorry,” he said tiredly.

“Neither of us is in the right place in our minds to talk right now. I should try and go back to sleep.”

Emma’s voice caught in her throat. She wanted to ask him to come back. To hold her, to touch her. But it was fear that gripped her, that held tight to her voice. She wanted Donovan so very much, but fear of so many things kept him away now.

As Donovan departed, he stopped in the doorway that led into the darkened hallway.

The predawn lighting made the darkness seem even more all-encompassing than it had been a short time ago.

He turned back to face Emma. “I hope you sleep well, Miss Bradford,” a pause and then, “I, too, am disappointed with the timing of everything. I am, however, still glad we got to meet, regardless of the inopportune circumstance.” And with those words he departed.

Despite the uncertainty that surrounded their late-night conversation, Donovan and Emma both slept better for the sake of it. Each of them realized that sometimes it’s not what you hear that calms you, but who you hear it from.