Her vibrant smile reached her eyes. “You do? But that’s wonderful. You mustn’t tell Sebastian, not until we have gathered more evidence. He will only ride roughshod over our plans.”
Reluctantly, he nodded. “Where do we begin?”
When she arched a brow, he knew he would dislike her suggestion. “Tomorrow, you must tell me what troubles you. I believe you know why a man might want to kill you. And you need someone to share your burden.” The minx touched his arm again. “You must tell me everything, Nicholas.”
Everything?
What? That he had almost ravished her at her mother’s graveside? That he was miserable and lonely because the thought of kissing another woman proved repugnant? That he pictured her when he took himself in hand? Whispered her name as he found his release?
“I shall think on it tonight.”
She didn’t press him further but gestured for them to follow Somers, who took to plodding ahead as if his blood had pooled in his feet.
Somers stopped at the end of the corridor and opened the door to his left. “This will be your room for the duration of your stay, Miss Langley. Lady Brompton hopes you will be comfortable.” He informed her of the events planned for tomorrow. “You will find a list of activities on the console table in the hall.”
“Thank you, Somers.” Her gaze drifted from the butler. “Good night, Mr St Clair. Thank you for escorting me to my room. And I apologise to you both. No doubt you have a long walk to the east wing.”
Somers coughed discreetly. “Mr St Clair is in the room opposite, madam. And his lordship, Viscount Denton, is next door.”
Nicholas’ pulse raced.
Opposite? Bloody opposite!
Unmarried men were rarely placed on the same wing as unmarried women. What damn trickery was this?
Somers must have sensed his disquiet. “Viscount Denton insisted on the arrangements when he accepted the invitation, sir. In the absence of a female relative, he said you both wished to remain close to your sister.”
Sister? She wasn’t his bloody sister!
“Do not concern yourself, Mr St Clair. Somers can find you a room more suited to your needs.”
“Never mind,” he said, resigned to the fact he would not sleep a wink tonight. “It’s late, and I’ll not trouble the staff further.” Moreover, it was wise to keep Helen in their sights. “Your brother is next door, which will appease anyone who deems it inappropriate.”
What the devil was Sebastian about?
Had he problems of his own?
Was that the reason for his recent lapse in judgement?
Somers waited until Helen entered the bedchamber before escorting Nicholas into the room overlooking the manicured gardens.
A footman dressed in blue livery arrived with the portmanteau rescued from the wreckage and unpacked Nicholas’ clothes.
He sat silently on the edge of the bed, fear slipping past his barricade. Helen might have died today. The thought of losing her, of never knowing the taste of her lips, never feeling her touch, well, it might lend a man to recklessness.
An image of his father’s tortured face burst into his mind. The day he discovered the wife who had never loved him did indeed love someone else. It was enough to swear a man to bachelorhood. Enough to prevent a man from ever taking such a risk.
“Will that be all, sir?” came the footman’s polite question. “I can return in the morning to assist you. Perhaps you’d care for a tipple before you retire for the evening.”
Doubtless he looked like he needed a drink. “I can shave and dress without assistance. But I won’t refuse a glass of brandy.”
It might help him sleep.
It might help him forget the object of his desire slept a few feet across the hall, and that unrequited love proved so damnably painful.
* * *
“It must have been Parbrook,” Sebastian whispered between gritted teeth as he marched through the oak-panelled hall with Nicholas the next morning. “Who else would have cause to force you off the road? He must have been watching the house. He must have sent the letter, and I played right into his damn hands.”