My Lord Immortality (Immortal Rogues #3)(43)

"There is a sitting room and bedchamber just off the pantry."

Sebastian moved to escort her out of the kitchen, only to be imperiously waved away.

"No, no. I can find them. I shall have a bit of a rest and then see about those muffins. Oh, and there is dinner to consider ..."

The housekeeper bustled toward the side door, her mumbles following her all the way to her chambers.

Pressing her hands together, Amelia regarded Sebastian with a bright smile.

"Thank you," she said with all sincerity. "I am very relieved to have her with us. I was concerned she might be harmed."

"As was I." He stepped closer, his hand rising to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. Almost absently, his fingers lingered, lightly stroking the sensitive line of her neck. "Unfortunately, your home is being closely watched by Mr. Ryan. I was forced to use a chimney sweep to get word to her that I desired a meeting. It would not have done for me to have been seen upon your doorstep."

Amelia moistened her suddenly dry lips. She wanted to concentrate upon his words. She was certainly interested in how he managed to whisk Mrs. Benson away from danger. Unfortunately, her mind possessed a will of its own. It seemed far more eager to dwell upon the dazzling enjoyment of his touch.

"No, of course not," she at last managed, hoping her expression did not reveal she was a breath away from swooning against him. "How did you manage to bring her here?"

His own thoughts did not appear to be entirely upon their conversation as his gaze followed the distracting path of his fingers.

"I had her walk to her sister's with an obvious bag of belongings. Once there, she slipped out the back and into a hackney I had waiting. It is hoped that all will believe she is set to remain with her sister for some time."

Despite her bemusement, Amelia discovered her more sensible self quite impressed with his ingenious plan.

"You truly are a very clever gentleman."

His lips twisted at her words. "Not clever, merely desperate. I could not bear another day of eating my feeble efforts at cooking."

She gave a sudden chuckle. In truth it would be lovely to have Mrs. Benson's deft hand in the kitchen. The past few days she had existed on eggs and porridge with the occasional slice of ham to break up the monotony. Sebastian was undoubtedly a skilled, intelligent, fascinating vampire.

He would never, however, be mistaken for a chef.

"It was not so bad," she hedged with a flash of dimples.

His fingers moved to cup her chin, his expression amused. "What a terrible liar you are, my dear. You should always tell the truth."

Her gaze searched over the male features that were so achingly familiar.

"While you give nothing away. It is very difficult to know what you are thinking."

A fine tension settled in the air between them, a shimmering web that connected them more forcibly than any physical touch.

"No doubt that is for the best," he murmured, his gaze reluctantly lifting to probe deep into her eyes.

"Why?"

He flinched at her question. "Amelia, we both know why."

Of course they did. He was not a London gentleman in search of an on-the-shelf spinster. He was not even a gentleman in the general sense of the word. His only purpose was to ensure that the Medallion was pro-tected. Once he had dealt with Mr. Ramone, he would return to his people and she would be no more than it distant memory.

While she... she would be alone again with no one but William to fill her days.

A thought that was far more depressing than it should be.

She lowered her lashes to hide the grief that lanced through her heart.

"Yes," she said softly.

His fingers tightened, all too easily able to sense the pain she sought to keep secret.

"Oh, Amelia, please do not be unhappy," he pleaded.

Knowing that she was only adding to his burdens, she stepped back briskly and tilted her chin to a firm angle.

She did not need his pity. That was the last thing she desired.

"I am not unhappy," she lied bravely, "merely concerned. William and I cannot hide here forever."

Although he could easily read her heart, Sebastian thankfully followed her lead to less dangerous waters. Folding his arms over his chest, he regarded her with a steady gaze.

"It will not be forever. I am certain it will all soon be behind you."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Mr. Ramone . . . Drake, is notoriously vain. His pride will not allow him to remain without the Medallion for long."

She grimaced at his explanation. "That is hardly reassuring, Sebastian."

He smiled wryly, belatedly realizing that his words had hardly been designed to inspire comfort.

"Do not fear. He might very well come to his senses and return to the Veil. If he does not, and continues his pursuit of the Medallion, then I will stop him."

A frown tugged at her brows at his unperturbed tone. "I do not like the thought of you placing yourself in danger."

"No more than I enjoy knowing that you are at risk," he pointed out softly.

"But who will protect you?"

He blinked, as if surprised by her concern. She felt a stab of impatience. For goodness' sake.

Surely he must realize that she could not bear it if something happened to him?

"I assure you that I am well able to take care of myself."