Always a Maiden (The Belles of Beak Street #5)(58)

Why did she ache for a scoundrel?

A knock on her door sounded. Her heart leapt. She jumped to her feet hoping it was him.

It was a maid, carrying a tray with food and tea.

The food made her stomach roil. After she’d long given up any attempt to eat, every creak of the house had her jumping up, waiting for him, but hours ticked by and there was no sign of him. Could it be any clearer that he didn’t want her? No, he was probably too busy figuring out how to get Annabelle away from the husband she adored, rather than thinking about her.





Chapter 15





Evan was nearly crawling out of his skin before he could make his way through the silent house to the north wing. He’d had to sit through dinner. Once Gilbert was safely led away to the drawing room, Evan still had to sit through the serving of port and through his uncle reminiscing about working with Susanah’s father in Parliament.

He’d tried to excuse himself once. Uncle Phillip had forestalled him by pointing out his guests had been traveling since the early morning hours. He really should leave them to their rest this evening.

Evan bit the insides of his mouth and refrained from pointing out that all of them were used to staying out all hours in London. Although, he’d noticed a bit of slump in Lord and Lady Ashton’s posture. Susanah, of course, wouldn’t allow herself to betray tiredness.

Then his uncle insisted they should have a normal evening so Gilbert wouldn’t suspect anything, which meant hours in the drawing room playing cards. But that had stretched on forever as if Gilbert sensed something was up and wasn’t about to let Evan out of his sight. But by then, Evan was going insane. He wondered if Uncle Phillip was deliberately torturing him. Or if he was the one who truly didn’t like his routines upset.

Then he’d had to ask his man to find out which of the dozens of suites had been prepared for the Ashtons. The housekeeper would have put Susanah close to them to make it easier on whichever maid was charged with seeing after their guests’ comfort. If he was to go to her room, he had to be somewhat discreet or he would be castigated as the rankest of villains. A man didn’t violate the sanctity of a guest in his own home. He didn’t seduce a newly married woman in his own house.

Still, he had to know why Susanah was here.

Did she need his help?

Or was it more? Did he dare hope that she wasn’t wed yet and she was here to accept his offer?

The questions swirled in his mind as he wove his way through far too many corridors and rooms to make it to the opposite end of the house. Because the fortified manor house had been added to again and again, it had become a rabbit warren, redolent with history instead of practicality. He did his best to dodge the few servants still tending to duties. Even if they were sworn to secrecy about Gilbert, he didn’t want anyone knowing he was sneaking into Susanah’s rooms. Finally, he was outside of the Queen Anne rooms and the thin bead of firelight flickering under the door told him, he was in the right place. His pulse galloped, and his stomach turned.

He tapped softly.

And heard nothing.

He waited for what seemed like an eon. Had she gone to bed? Was she asleep?

The hell with it. He wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t know why she was here—there was no way that he believed that they had just been in the vicinity and decided to call while on her ridiculous trip to meet Farringate. Had she run away? Did she need his help? He turned the knob and cracked the door. “Susanah?” he whispered.

She moved into the middle of the room backlit by the fire. She drew to a sudden halt. She wore a long white nightgown, and her hair was down. She looked ethereal with the firelight giving a golden shimmer to her glorious hair. It was so long it skimmed the back of her thighs. His breath caught.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said folding her arms across her middle.

“I had to wait until midnight, didn’t I?” he said lightly. Not wanting their conversation to carry, he slipped into the sitting room and shut the door.

Her pearly teeth worried her lower lip and he wanted to soothe it. “Is it only midnight? It feels much later.”

It was later. Perhaps half one, but he wasn’t about to take out his pocket watch and check. She shifted, and the firelight outlined her slender form. Desire slammed into him. He sucked in a deep breath as if it had been a physical punch.

He should offer to leave or allow her time to dress if she preferred. But the question that had been hammering in his brain all evening begged to be asked. His voice was rough and husky. “Why are you here?”

There were all kinds of answers he wanted. He wanted her to say she’d reconsidered and wanted to be his wife. Surely, that was the only reason she’d come all this way, the story about Lord Farringate being called away to deal with some kind of crisis aside.

Or was it too late? Her parents would never have let her leave if she wasn’t married. He needed her to tell him it wasn’t too late.

“You promised to teach me p-passion,” she whispered. Her chin lifted, but he couldn’t make out her expression in the dim room with the fire behind her. “I don’t think you’ve taught me everything.”

Something cold ran down his spine at the same time heat raced to his cock. It was an odd thing. Unlike when he’d stared at Annabelle earlier, desire was never far from his mind when he thought about Susanah. He wanted her lithe body and her pert breasts, but more than that he wanted the hidden parts of her that she didn’t share with anyone. He wanted a piece of her soul. Would she give him that or just the use of her body? “Yes.”