“You’re going nowhere,” he said, placing his hands on his thighs. The game was now over. “Not until you return to me the letter you stole.”
Miss Dunston gasped. It even sounded indignant. “Me? Steal from you? How dare you make such an accusation!” She moved to the right of the desk, and he followed suit, blocking her exit. “Don’t play games with me, Sir Aaron.” She took another step to the right, and he followed her movements again. “I’m warning you. Ruth is skilled in fisticuffs and will come to my immediate aid if you try anything improper!”
Aaron could not help but laugh. “The charade is over, Miss Dunston. Don’t you think it’s about time you stopped pretending to be an innocent young girl? It’s quite clear you’re a spoiled child, no doubt placated by your parents at every whimper.”
This time, no gasp escaped her lips. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. The girl had a temper, that much was sure, and he found it alluring.
“You know nothing about me or my family,” she spat. “So don’t act as if you do. And how dare you mock my innocence. I’m far better than you will ever be. You’re a beast, Sir Knight, one who ignores his son and believes that sharing the same food as you or his mother is worthy of punishment! You may not have married his mother, but what right does that give you to approve of her maltreatment of your son? Is it not your blood that flows through his veins? Does that not allow him at least the decency to be fed and housed properly? No child, born in wedlock or otherwise, should be treated like an animal!”
Confusion clouded Aaron’s mind. His son? He had no son. Miss Dunston’s face was red, and she was breathing heavily by the time she finished her tirade. He took a step toward her. As she went to move to the left, he acted as if he would do the same, and she took the bait. Reaching across, he moved right, took hold of her arms, and pushed her back against the desk.
His breathing became ragged, and he struggled to keep from kissing her again. He needed to keep his wits about him if he was to get to the bottom of this nonsense. And to see that whatever she had stolen was returned to him. But having her so close made it nearly impossible.
And although the young woman was a thief, she looked at him through her eyelashes. “You may kiss me,” she said, her words breathy.
All hope was lost. The fruit of the tree was too appealing to resist. He pulled her into his arms, a small whimper escaping her mouth as he did as she bade.
The kiss was powerful, his grip on her firm. She made no attempt at escape. With his guard dropped, the pounding of his heart increased, and an odd sensation washed over him. It was not primal like it was before. This time, there was a sense of connecting, as if they were drawing closer together. He relished her soft lips and could not help but smile when she attempted to move past him again while at the same time returning his kiss in equal measure.
“Enough,” he whispered, holding her firmly in place. Her breathing was as shallow as his, and her cheeks were bright red. “Why did you take a letter off my desk? And what is this nonsense about my son? I have no children.”
Her glare only increased his desire. “You may be able to deceive others,” she snapped. “But not me. I was at the park yesterday while you were speaking with Lady Mathison. I heard her say that she makes your son—William, I believe was his name—she makes him sleep in the stables! That is the reason I took the letter she wrote to you. To find more evidence to bring you down.”
Aaron had never witnessed such passion from any woman, let alone one so beautiful. Yet, he found her words so humorous, so outlandish, he could not stop himself from roaring with laughter.
“William? My son?” he asked between guffaws. “Miss Dunston, William is my dog, and Lady Mathison is my sister!”
She shook her head. “But you met her in secret. Why would you do that if she’s only your sister? And who is this Peter she wishes dead?”
Aaron drew in a deep, calming breath. What she asked was personal, yet he found he trusted her. Why? He could not be sure, but he did. “Horatia is married to an earl far older than she. It was a marriage of convenience. He’s cruel and unloving and controls every aspect of her life. He’s locked her in her bedroom for days when she’s angered him, and he never allows a moment to pass without reminding her that she’s only a decoration for his arm. That’s why we meet in secret. If the old man learned we even spoke, she would pay dearly.”
Miss Dunston hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, removing the letter and handing it to him. “I made assumptions and interfered where I clearly should not have.” Her voice was filled with pain, true pain.
Something she had said hurt him deeply. “Do you truly think so poorly of me?” he asked.
She gave him a wide-eyed shake of her head. “No, of course not.”
He wanted to believe her, he truly did, but the doubt that emanated from her made doing so difficult. A strange, overwhelming desire to prove he was not the rogue she believed him to be came over him.
“Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
“Wait,” she said, pulling her hand from his. “My actions, my words… shame is burning inside me. I do truly apologize for what I did. I know eavesdropping is wrong, and I know you’ll never understand, but I’ve always had a strange need to do so. More often than you can imagine. But now, I swear to never spy again.”
There was no pride in watching Miss Dunston expressing her regret. This was not a matter of who was right and who was wrong. Rather, it was about a hurt young lady he did not wish to see suffer any longer.
“Don’t be ashamed of anything in this life,” he said. Strange how easy it was to give advice he was unable to take. “I hold no ill will toward you. All is forgiven. In fact, I admire you for facing your shortcomings.”
“You’re not lying?” she asked, wiping at her eyes.
“No. I promise I am not. Now please, come with me.”
He led her down the corridor to the library and stopped in front of his family’s sword. “The Sword of Destiny has been in my family for centuries. I assume you’ve heard of the War of the Roses?”
“Yes, of course. We learned about it last year. Was this sword used in that war?”
Aaron smiled. “It was. It played an important part.” He gave her a brief explanation of his ancestor’s involvement. “It’s said that whoever wields the sword will do great things. But more importantly, it will lead that person to his—or her—destiny.”
Turning to face Miss Dunston, Aaron felt a sudden urge to share everything with her. To tell her about all his worries and his failures in life. But he could not. Not all of it. Not yet.