“Seven.” She clutched her abdomen as if suffering from a bout of nausea. “It was seven years ago.”
Seven years!
It beggared belief.
“Nicholas, is it me, or is it suddenly quite hot in here?”
He glanced at the beamed ceiling and tiny port window. “It’s always hot in the attic room. Delphine will have a fan in the drawer.”
He stood and moved to check the armoire, but was like an automaton going through the motions while trying to make sense of her revelation.
Seven years!
It hurt to think they’d been oblivious to each other’s feelings.
Sebastian hadn’t helped matters.
Be the brother she needs.
Family means more to her than anything.
She means to marry a man with a title.
“Do you think I might fit into one of Delphine’s dresses?” she said. “Would she mind if I borrowed one? When will she be home?”
He observed the rows of neatly folded gowns, all in various shades of blue, midnight blue being Delphine’s preferred choice. “I’m not sure. She’s in Bath visiting a friend. I would venture downstairs and ask Aaron but cannot risk anyone seeing me.”
“It would be rude to take one without asking.”
“We’ll ask him in the morning.”
It occurred to him that they would both be sleeping in this room tonight. They would need to share a bed unless he did the gentlemanly thing and slept on the floor. He could ask Aaron for another room, but he risked being recognised and could not leave Helen alone in this iniquitous den.
“I’m sure she won’t mind if you borrow a nightgown.”
The muscles in his abdomen tightened.
He’d thought spending five days with Helen at Grayswood would be torture. How the hell could he sleep beside a woman who ignited a fire in his blood?
“It will have to suffice,” she said, not at all embarrassed about undressing in his company. “I need out of these bindings. With the lack of air up here, it’s difficult to breathe.”
“Yes,” he replied, staring absently at the garments in the armoire, debating whether to throw her over his shoulder and take her home.
If he was so determined to protect her, why did every instinct demand she remain with him? Why did this desperation for her company stir bitter memories of his father’s obsession?
Had his worst fear come true?
Was need clouding his judgement?
He turned to face her, resigned in his decision to return to Grosvenor Street, but she was already on her feet, padding barefoot towards the dressing screen.
“Helen,” he said when she disappeared behind a panel of grinning cherubs. It was easier to talk when she wasn’t looking up at him with doe eyes, when his body wasn’t crippled with need.
“Yes?”
“I must take you home to Grosvenor Street. Tonight.” Before he did something shocking. Something totally out of character. “Sebastian will be fraught with worry. And if we leave now, we might limit the damage.”
She peered around the screen. “I left him a note.”