Bound by Bliss (Bound and Determined #2)(91)
What would happen if she stayed? Would it really be so terrible?
Perhaps it was still the mid-hours of the night and she could have hours more with Stephan before needing to make any decision. If all she did was lie beside him and watch him sleep, it would be one more memory to treasure in the years to come. She shook herself. If that was what she wanted she should never have risen from the bed. If he realized that she’d left and come back the statement in that would be too strong.
She had to leave. She did.
Still she did not move.
Why couldn’t she marry him?
She’d said she would and she’d always tried to stand by her word. He would make the world a safe place for her. He had promised to. He had promised to never leave her and she’d never known him to lie. As the thought filled her mind, she could feel his soft arms wrap about her, feel his warmth, feel all that he would offer her. All she had to do was reach out and take.
Only she could not.
Fear might be the only thing holding her back. Silly, stupid fear. She recognized that now, but she was not strong enough to overcome that fear. For a few moments last night, Stephan might have broken a hole in her wall, but now that gap had been filled in.
A lifetime of worry could not be overcome in a single night, a single hour.
Tears rose in her eyes, but she held them back. Straightening her shoulders, she prepared to move.
Only she didn’t. It felt like glue held her to the door, held her to Stephan.
Blinking back the tears, she forced herself away, forced herself to turn, to take that first step—and then that second.
She had planned her life and Duldon was not part of it. Marriage was not part of it. Perhaps that was where she’d made her mistake. Why had she ever agreed to marry at all? Swanston might yell and scream. He might even cut her allowance or force her to stay at Risusgate until she was of age, but he could not leave her destitute, even if he wished to. She could sell that hated strand of pearls, pearl by pearl if necessary.
Another tear slid down her cheek. She reached up to brush it off, the hood sliding back to her shoulders. Her hand moved back to pull it back into place. At this moment she didn’t care who saw her, didn’t care who knew, but some deep-seated desire for self-preservation still survived. She would not do that to herself, to her family.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here again?” The voice curled about her, trapping her.
She turned her head—and stopped. Her heart stopped. Her lungs stopped. Every muscle within her just froze and refused to move.
Lord Temple.
She would have closed her eyes, denied the reality, but still she could not move even that much.
“Not going to speak, my Lady Blish? Whoever named you musht have planned it with me in mind,” he slurred, taking a step forward, a step nearer to her. Brandy fumes wafted from him, filling her senses.
She should say something, find some explanation—even if there was none—but she could not think, her emotions already emptied this evening.
“The fates must be smiling on me this evening. I was beginning to despair that my companion for the evening had not arrived. I was going to speak to Ruby about finding a replacement, but instead you magically appear.” He took another step, smiling.
She had dealt with enough drunken fools before that this should not be too difficult. Perhaps he would not even remember seeing her in the morning.
He tapped the crop he held against the shiny black leather of his boots.
A crop? Who carried a crop at this hour? And inside? Any gentleman dropped his crop by the door as he entered a house. And why was he all in black? Her eyes swept him. Even his shirt was black. His cravat too.
Before she could fully finish this thought, Lord Temple smiled more broadly, stepping far too close. His fingers wrapped about her wrist, biting tight.
She pulled back hard, yanking her arm, but he refused to give way.
And in that moment, fear began to fill her. He might be a drunken lout, but drunken louts could still pose danger. A moment ago she had been fighting disbelief and surprise at being caught, but now she knew the beginning of terror.
The look that filled Lord Temple’s eyes spoke of things she could not even begin to contemplate. It wandered over her, focusing again and again at the mounds of her breasts, thankfully still hidden beneath the heavy cloak.
“Let me go,” she hissed.
Temple stared at her and voiced no response.
“Let me go,” she repeated. “Let me go and no one will know of this.”
“I don’t thinksk you’ll tell anyone you were here.” Temple was still slurring, but otherwise seemed able.
She tried again to pull away. Temple held tight.
Stephan. She must get to Stephan. He would protect her from this, protect her from anything. Temple might be a only drunken fool, or he might be something more, but Stephan would take care of it. He would never let this happen to her.
He would never let this happen.
He would keep her safe.
Stephan.
But she had left Stephan, left all that he had promised her.
Pulling hard against Lord Temple’s hand, she tried to step back, to get through the door that a moment ago had represented escape and now represented haven. She had to get back, get back to Stephan.
Lord Temple’s other hand grabbed her other arm, and she found herself lifted and turned. She tried to kick out at the door, to pound against it, to wake her sleeping savior, but Lord Temple was too strong.