Seven Years to Sin(66)
Breath hissing between his teeth, Michael gripped the edge of the console and fought to collect himself. A poker through the chest could not have hurt worse.
He rounded on Elspeth. “Sheath your claws, Mother. You’re drawing blood.”
She recoiled, then paled. “Michael …”
“Why?” he asked bitterly. “We both know she’s beyond my grasp. You’ve no need to wound me with it further.”
“I’m sorry.” Her shoulders fell, her lovely features aging before his eyes. “I …”
“You what?”
“I am afraid your love for her will hold you back.”
“I know my responsibilities. I’ll see to them.”
“I want you to be happy.” She stepped toward him. “I want that so badly. I thought if you knew …”
“That I would simply shrug off my troublesome affection and move forward unencumbered?” He laughed without humor. “If only it was that simple.”
She sighed. “I want to help you. I wish I knew how.”
“I told you how.” He set his hat on his head. “See to Hester. Give her whatever support she may need.”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done for the girl, Michael. Leastwise, nothing you and I can do.”
He looked at her. “Regmont,” he bit out, acid sliding through his veins.
“The way she reacts to his name … I have seen that look before, and it never bodes well. But what can be done?”
“We can extend our friendship.” He moved toward the door, which was hastily opened by the butler. “And pray.”
Hester’s breathing quickened as she entered her parlor. Michael stood when she swept in, his dark eyes heating with masculine appreciation. She basked in that warmth, allowing it to thaw the frozen recesses of her heart.
“You waited the entirety of the sennight before keeping your promise to call on me,” she accused.
A faint tinge of sadness marred the smile he gave her. “My mother suggested I wait.”
“Ah.” She sat on the settee across from him. “She is a wise woman.”
“She likes you.”
“The affection is mutual.” Hester smoothed her skirts, feeling unaccountably nervous. “How are you?”
“I’ve been half-mad with the need to ask that question of you. You spoke of some things when I last saw you. I feared I might have aggravated … that I caused you unnecessary …” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Christ.”
“I’m well, Michael.”
“Are you?” His hand fell to his lap, and his gaze sharpened. “I should have let him win. I was too arrogant—too angry—to do so. I should have been thinking of you.”
Hester’s heartbeat thudded in a strong, steady rhythm as if revived. In truth she felt more alive in Michael’s presence than she had in many years. “You were thinking of me, were you not?”
He tensed, then flushed.
“Whatever promise you made to my sister to look after me,” she went on, “I doubt she expected you to take the responsibility to such lengths. But I’m touched that you did.”
“Do you need a champion?” he asked softly, leaning forward.
“There is a princess out there waiting for you, gallant knight.”
“By God.” He pushed to his feet with graceful violence. Controlled, despite his frustration. “I hate talking in riddles.”
She nodded at the maid who set a tea service on the low table in front of her. When the servant departed, Hester said, “You didn’t answer my question about how you’re faring.”
He exhaled harshly and resumed his seat. “As well as can be expected, under the circumstances. I never realized how many tasks Benedict faced. He bore them all with quiet efficiency. I have yet to figure out how he managed. He must have found more hours in the day than have been allotted to me.”
“He had a wife to support his efforts.”
“By God, if one more individual posits that a spouse will alleviate all my burdens, I cannot be held responsible for my reply.”
Hester laughed softly, secretly and horribly pleased to hear that finding a wife was not high on Michael’s list of priorities. “You don’t believe you would find a wife helpful?”
“I am barely keeping my own head above water. I haven’t the faintest idea of how I would care for a spouse at this time.”
“I want you to find a wife who will care about you. It shan’t be hard. You are very easy to adore.”
“If only you spoke from experience,” he said quietly.
“I do, of course.”
His beautiful mouth twisted wryly. “Of course.”
“More than I realized,” she confessed. “More fool I.”
“Hester …” Surprise swept over his features, followed swiftly by stark despair.
How had she missed the signs that Michael carried a tendre for her? She had been blinded by Regmont’s rakish charm and the sensual spell he wove so well. By the time they wed, she’d been desperate for the consummation of their union, aroused to a fever pitch by clandestine touches, ravenous kisses, and hotly whispered promises of boundless pleasure.