Page 46

Chapter Thirty

H ands trembling, Kitty turned the key in the lock, and stepped into the chamber. Zeke had left only one wall sconce burning on low. Pressing the door shut, she leaned into it and allowed her eyes to adjust.

She scanned the small bedchamber for Zeke, and found him stretched out atop the bed, arms crossed beneath his head. She couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. She did know seeing him lying on her bed, with the lighting just so, did funny things to her pulse.

Devil take it, she should have insisted he leave, or, barring that, told her brother he was here, and let him deal with the situation.

Instead, she guarded the secret because…she wanted this time with him, desperately, brief as it would be.

“Welcome back. How was dinner?” Zeke drawled.

She allowed herself a little smile. He was awake.

He sat up, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. “I hope you don’t mind. I rode hard all day to find you and thought to take advantage of the mattress considering I’ll have use of the floor for the rest of the evening.”

He stood. Stretched.

“I don’t mind.” She sounded as breathless as she felt. Gad. She cleared her throat. “I brought you some rolls. It was the only thing I could take that wouldn’t rouse suspicion.”

She moved toward him, extending the bundled serviette.

In the deeply shadowed chamber, she thought he looked amused.

“Thank you.” Rather than accepting her offering, he captured her hands. He pulled her closer, bending to brush his lips over hers in the sweetest, softest kiss.

She raised up on tiptoes and leaned forward, deciding then and there if he initiated the two falling onto the mattress she’d allow it—just for a moment.

Instead of deepening the kiss, he snagged the bread from her hands. He unfolded the serviette, examining one of the rolls with interest, and moved away.

“I found an extra blanket in the wardrobe. Between that and the seat cushion, I should sleep well enough.” He set about arranging his makeshift bed for the night.

Kitty began her nightly ablutions. She cleaned her teeth, splashed water over her face, removed her hairpins.

She heard him remove his boots. Then his belt hit the floor.

Unable to resist, she glanced at him in the mirror as she brushed her hair.

He sat propped on his elbows near the unlit hearth, legs stretched out before him. Light from the wall lamp gleamed off his shiny, mussed hair, and cast shadows over his sun-burnished skin.

He stared back at her, unblinking, and her blood began to simmer.

“Did you learn anything interesting while dining with your brother and…fiancé?” Zeke asked dryly.

She set down her brush and swiveled to face him. “I don’t know what you mean by interesting.”

“Do you know where you’re headed, for one thing?”

“Oh. Yes. We’re going home to Hastings House.”

“Any pertinent topics of discussion over the dinner table?”

“Pertinent to whom? I don’t see what this has to do with—”

“Kitty? Humor me. I have, after all, stood by you during your entire nightmare, at least since being made abreast of it.”

She dropped her chin. “I’m aware. I just don’t want to argue during the little time we have left.”

“Who says answering my questions will lead to an argument? For that matter, why assume our time together is limited?” His mouth curved upward giving her a glimpse of gleaming white teeth.

She shook her head, grinning despite herself. “Fine. Have all the boring details. Evidently Garrick sent a message to his solicitor requesting a meeting to discuss how best to proceed with the title exchange.”

“I see.” He glowered at no one in particular. “And everyone ends up happy, with each a tidy little sum and his just desserts. Tell me, how do you like being served up like a steaming apple turnover?”

“Zeke,” she warned.

“Once you’re wed, there goes your inheritance, as well. All your hard-earned independence, gone, in one fell swoop, 'til death do you part.”

She turned back to the mirror, and resumed brushing her hair with sharp, angry strokes.

“Or you could leave with me, now.”

“I’d be so much better off then, wouldn’t I?” she snapped. “An independent wife of an absent lord. A brood mare, set out to pasture.”

“Suit yourself,” he bit back.

She heard a plunk on the floorboards and hazarded a glance at Zeke in the mirror.

He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

She longed to go to him. To wrap her arms around him and confess her undying love. Couldn’t he see this was the last thing she wanted? Her only bright spot in this lamentable ordeal was having her brother returned from the dead.

“Are you sleeping in your gown?”

She blinked at Zeke’s unexpected question. “I thought I ought to.”

“I’m not going to ravish you.”

She knew that. He hadn’t even kissed her goodnight.

“You’ll be more comfortable sleeping in your night dress. Do you need help undressing?”

“No. The ties are in the front.”

He was right, of course. She would be more comfortable in her nightrail. “Don’t look.”

Zeke pulled his blanket over his head. “Can’t see a thing.”

She stripped out of her gown, stockings and slippers with her back to him, pressed in close to the side of the wardrobe, though it didn’t actually shield her from Zeke’s view if he looked, which he wasn’t.

“There was one thing I didn’t mention. More of a coincidence, really,” she said.

“Oh?”

She folded her gown, then rolled up her stockings and piled them neatly on a shelf in the wardrobe.

“An old acquaintance of Collin’s happens to be staying here. He stopped by our table to say hello. Collin acted strangely, practically running the man off without introducing Garrick or me. He explained himself later, of course.”

Zeke’s blanket rustled as he ripped it off his head. “Do you recall the man’s name? Did you recognize him?”

She squinted her eyes, studying him. His lids still appeared sealed shut.

“Let me think. When the man approached the table, he said something to the effect of, ‘Hastings? Is that you? Haven’t seen you in an age. It’s me. Peters.’ Or Parish. Something with a P.”

She shook out her nightshift, debating her chemise. Scowling to herself, she decided to leave it on and shimmied the white lawn over her head.

“The thing is, after Collin walked me to my door, I noticed he didn’t go on to his chamber, but turned for the stairs. When I called after him, he told me he was going to have a word with Mr. Peters.” She smiled. “Yes, Peters it is. I’m sure of it.”

“The same man he didn’t want you to meet?”

She paused in the act of buttoning the neckline of her gown. “I asked him that very question. He had a sound reason for not doing so, Mr Fault finder. He told me he hadn’t introduced us because he didn’t want to get into the whole title issue in front of Garrick.”

“I see.” Zeke yawned loudly.

Kitty hadn’t liked the look of Mr. Peters. He had a coarseness about him that made her uneasy—but she didn’t want to say anything else that might further sour Zeke on Collin.

She tiptoed across the cold wooden floor and slid beneath the bedcovers, pulling her sheets to her nose. “You can open your eyes now.”

Zeke did not respond.

“Zeke?” She strained her ears—and heard the slow steady breath of one fast asleep.

The blasted man had nodded off. She couldn’t say exactly why his ability to do so annoyed her.

With a hmph, she reached up to extinguish the lamp, then rolled to her side and pinched her eyes closed. And proceeded to lie awake. She tossed, turned, and beat her pillow.

It was no use. How in the world could she relax with Zeke mere feet away? So very close, yet they may as well be oceans apart.

She still couldn’t quite believe he’d come for her, and then refused to leave until he knew for certain she wasn’t with child, no matter she’d told him she wasn’t.

What if, by some miracle she was pregnant?

Zeke would insist on marriage. And what sweet torture that would be, married to a man she loved desperately, whose kisses left her breathless and whose touch brought her body to the height of ecstasy, but who flat-out told her he would never love her.

And she mustn’t forget he said nothing about staying in England, baby or no. In fact, he made it clear he would be off at the first opportunity to dig a fresh hole in the earth, half a world away.

Through it all, there was Collin to consider. Why hadn’t she thought of him before bedding the man?

Because she loved Zeke, and thought she’d never see him again.

Because she hadn’t been thinking at all.

“I can practically see smoke coming out your ears, you’re thinking so hard,” Zeke said in that rich, velvety voice of his.

She nearly jumped out of her skin. “I thought you were asleep.” She aimed a glare at him in the darkness.

He propped himself on his elbows. She couldn’t make out his features of his face, but the moonlight seeping in through the window told her he gazed in her direction.

“I thought it was the best way,” he said, his voice gruff.

“The best way for what?”

“To keep my hands off you.”

Her heart beat so hard she thought she might crack a rib. “Maybe I don’t want you to,” she said, her face burning at her own audacity.

“Kitty, don’t play games with me. My restraint is already at its limit. Now close your eyes and go to sleep.” He dropped onto the floor with a thud and, if she wasn’t mistaken, rolled onto his side to face away from her.

She stared at his dark shape, wrestling with her conscience. He was right, of course. She should let sleeping dogs lie. But…

“I just want you to kiss me goodnight, Zeke. Because you’re here…”

Zeke threw off his blanket.

“…and I can’t think of anything but you lying there and…”

He reached her bedside before she finished her thought.

“That makes two of us,” he growled, cupping her face. His hands were warm against her cheeks, and if she wasn’t mistaken, shaking.

His mouth came down on hers, hot and demanding.