Twelfth Night with the Earl (The Sutherland Sisters #3)(31)

He couldn’t do it without her. Since he’d arrived here, he’d done everything he could to keep her near, because when Thea was there, there wasn’t as much room for the dark thoughts that threatened to smother him at every moment. The pain and guilt were no match for her smile, her saucy tongue, her vanilla scent that made him want to taste every inch of her sweet skin.

He couldn’t bear for her to spend another minute believing he would take everything she loved away from her, but as he made his way down the hallway and into the entryway, he found the house dark and silent. It was late, past midnight. She would be in bed by now. He couldn’t just show up outside the door of her bedchamber and beg her to listen to him.

Could he? If he did, would she let him in?

His body leapt to attention at the thought of being alone with Thea in the darkness of her bedchamber, with her in only a dressing-gown, her long dark hair tumbling about her shoulders. He’d bury his face in that fragrant hollow between her breasts, and inhale that delicious scent that clung to her.

Jesus, he could smell it now, vanilla and cinnamon . . .

It took a moment before he realized the scent wasn’t just a fantasy. The delicious aroma of baked apples and cinnamon was wafting into the entryway from the kitchens below.

Thea was still awake, and she was baking.

He took the stairs two at a time, but he approached the kitchen quietly, so he could watch her for a moment before she realized he was there.

But this time she glanced up as soon as he reached the doorway. “Good evening, Lord Devon.”

Lord Devon? Ethan raised an eyebrow at her formal address. Was she angry at him? He hadn’t been down to the kitchens for the past few days, because he couldn’t be near her while he tried to sort through his conflicting feelings about Cleves Court. He couldn’t think when she was close. She was too tempting, and he wanted her too much. He’d needed to make his decision alone, so he could be sure of himself when he came to her.

And now he was.

“Good evening, Miss Sheridan. Up late again, I see.” He tried not to smile when he noticed the smudge of flour on her cheek.

I want to kiss it off.

But Thea didn’t look as if she were in the proper mood to receive a kiss from him, and since he had no intention of leaving this kitchen without kissing her, he’d have to tease her into a better one. “Don’t say that wretched earl has you up this late making tarts?”

He crossed the room, but this time he didn’t keep his distance. He didn’t stop until he was right next to her, facing her with his back against her work table, so close he could reach out, wrap his hands around her waist, pull her to him, and bury his face in her neck.

“No.” She didn’t look up from her work, but she edged toward the other end of the table, putting some distance between them. “I couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

He followed her. “Ah. Is something on your mind? Perhaps I can help.”

She muttered something under her breath. He didn’t quite catch it, but it was something about infuriating earls who disappear for days on end.

She was angry at him. God, he loved that she’d missed him, and he was more than ready to show her how much he’d missed her. A bit too ready, in fact.

“I beg your pardon, Miss Sheridan. I didn’t hear you.”

“I said it’s nothing that would interest you.”

She turned her back on him, but it didn’t help, because within seconds he was mesmerized by the tiny bow at the small of her back where she’d tied her apron strings. Good Lord, it was the most alluring thing he’d ever seen. All he could think about was tugging it loose.

“Everything you think and do interests me, Miss Sheridan.”

He meant every word, but she snorted as if that were the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. “Is that so? Well, I confess I never would have guessed it from your behavior, Lord Devon.”

“It’s to be Lord Devon tonight, is it?” He reached out to tweak her bow, unable to resist. “If I didn’t know myself to be utterly innocent of any wrongdoing, I might suspect you were cross with me, Miss Sheridan.”

“Innocent? Tonight when I tucked him into bed, Henry asked me what a courtesan does. I suppose he pulled that word right out of the air, didn’t he, my lord?”

Ethan smothered a laugh. “Very well, then. I’m not innocent of any wrongdoing. But surely it’s a good thing for the boy to have such a natural curiosity about language?”

Thea slammed the dough she’d been working down onto her work table. “It’s not language he’s curious about!”

“Perhaps not. Did you tell him?”

She frowned. “Tell him what?”

“What a courtesan does, of course.” He teased two fingers into the loop of her bow and tugged again, trying to draw her closer.

She slapped his hand away. “No! I most certainly did not. I told him to go to sleep at once, and do you know what he said to that?”

Oh, Ethan could imagine. Thea had been right about those children all along—despite their fiendish tendencies, each of them had a sharp intelligence, as well as a certain heathenish charm. “No. Tell me.”

“He said it was no matter whether I told him or not, because if I wouldn’t, he’d just ask his lordship tomorrow morning!”