“Tell me you don’t believe what Mr. Sutherby said. It’s utter nonsense. I have never agreed to a betrothal. I would never have kissed you had there been a prior arrangement.”
“I know.”
Why did she have to mention kissing? He was struggling to partake in even the simplest conversation.
They strode across the grass and out through the gate leading to the mews.
“It’s best we don’t go back to get your cape. Will you be warm enough if we walk?”
“What in these slippers? Can’t we just hail a hackney?”
He glanced down at her feet and shook his head. “I never ride in a closed carriage. I never ride in any form of carriage. Where do you live?”
“Duke Street. But we can access the garden from Great Ryder Street. It will be more discreet. I can show you the way. It’s not far.”
“I know the way, but I’ll take a detour along the quieter streets. Would you like my coat?”
“No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. It’s quite warm tonight.”
They walked along in silence, the air about them still buzzing with
restrained desire. It felt uncomfortable. The muscles in his shoulders were stiff, tense. His heartbeat was so erratic he could feel it pumping in his throat.
“We must hurry,” he said quickening his pace, the need to protect her his only concern.
“Why don’t you ride in a carriage?” she asked, sounding a little breathless. Her fingers flexed over the muscle in his arm, sending a pulse of energy shooting down to his groin. “I assume an earl would have more than one.”
The question threw him off kilter. What the hell was he supposed to say? Stepping into the carriage in Bavaria was akin to stepping through the gateway to Hell.
“I experienced a rather horrendous event in a carriage. I prefer to avoid them for fear of being hounded by the memory.”
Her fingers dug into his arm. “Was it the accident you had a few years ago? Is it why people assumed you were disfigured?”
Fragments of distorted images flashed into his mind. “Do you mind if we talk about something else?”
He could feel her gaze searching his face, drifting down over his chest. “Why did you come to the ball tonight?”
Damnation. Why did she persist in asking awkward questions?
“You forgot your gloves. You threw them on the floor in the orangery, and I thought you might be in need of them.”
She laughed, the sound soft and enchanting. “Why must you always skirt around the truth? Are you afraid to be honest with me?”
He turned to meet her gaze, his stomach lurching at the sight of her bright eyes and warm smile. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that all I can think about is kissing you? That I dream of covering your body with mine. That just being near you heals my damaged soul.”
“Yes,” she said softly. “Tell me what is in your heart, Alexander. I want to know everything.”
Everything? How could he tell her his darkest secret, his worst nightmare? She would never look at him in the same way again. Those pretty blue eyes would lose their lustrous quality, a black cloud of fear and loathing obscuring their brilliance.
“Is it not enough to know that I want you?”
“It’s enough for now.”
Her words sent a frisson of fear through him which he tried to dismiss.
They turned into the mews off Great Ryder, the privacy giving him the opportunity to pull her arm tighter through his.
“It is this door,” she said pointing to the wooden gate in the middle of a long brick wall.