Setting the soap aside, she sank deeper into the water. She hoped Darlington was right and her maid would tell her family where she had gone so they wouldn’t worry too much. Athena’s smile slipped. Her parents would have her hide when she returned. And she could not blame them. Once again her reckless behavior – her foolish belief she could fix things with nary a thought to the consequences – threatened to wreak havoc on someone else’s life. On Darlington’s life.
God. If ever there was a man with the right to despise her, it was he.
She rose from the bath and snatched up a towel. Time to get ready and face the reprimand he would surely give her. When they’d parted ways half an hour earlier, he had not looked the least bit pleased. A sigh left her as she reached for the dress she’d been lent by one of the maids. Her own gown was sopping wet and the hem was covered in flecks of dirt from the ride over, so the housekeeper had insisted on having it cleaned. Although her breeches were fine, she couldn’t very well wear them without a shirt.
Choosing not to add her attire to the list of concerns, she rang for a maid to help tie her stays, then put on the dress. Cut from a practical brown shade of cotton, it wasn’t as warm as her own, but at least it was dry.
“Would you like me to pin up your hair, miss?” the maid asked.
Athena shook her head. “No thank you. It will dry faster if it’s left down.”
“Very well, miss.”
Athena pushed her feet into the slippers she’d been given and shrugged her shoulders. They were a size too large but they’d have to do while her boots were being dried
Satisfied with her ensemble, she left her room and went downstairs. She recalled where the parlor, study, and dining room were from earlier, so then perhaps this door led to the library? Opening it, she noticed the bookshelves lining the walls and stepped inside. A cozy atmosphere born from the glow of oil lamps, the crackle of burning wood, and the rich smell of leather greeted her.
Searching the space, Athena’s gaze landed upon the two armchairs facing the fireplace. One, she noted, was occupied. Her stomach instantly tightened. She tried to force her heart into a calmer rhythm, but to no avail. Darlington’s presence affected her in the most peculiar way, instilling in her a curious mixture of apprehension and excitement.
She chastised herself for her silliness and closed the door.
“Miss Townsbridge.” Darlington rose and straightened to his full height. An awkward moment of silence followed, during which Athena became extremely aware of her appearance. Her arms were bare, her hair a curly mess around her shoulders, the gown she wore a size too small, and he was staring. Honestly, what must he think of her? He cleared his throat and gestured toward the chair beside his own. “Please, come join me.”
Inhaling deeply, she moved toward him with uneven steps as she struggled to keep the oversized slippers on her feet.
“Tea?” Darlington asked once she’d taken her seat and he’d resumed his. Athena nodded and moved to pour herself a cup, only he was swifter. “Allow me.”
She sat back, a bit startled by the firm insistence of his voice and by the fact that he, a man, had chosen to fulfill a task ordinarily reserved for women. It was strangely endearing – intimate, even. She shook away the fanciful notion and settled in to watch him serve her.
“Sugar or milk?” he asked, his blue eyes meeting hers as he angled his head in her direction.
“Neither.”
A dimple formed at the edge of his mouth as if a smile threatened. The teacup and matching saucer looked tiny between his hands when he picked them up and offered them to her. Athena’s stomach tightened further, her fingertips brushing his causing her pulse to leap in the most impractical way.
“Thank you, my lord.”
He hovered near her for an additional second before withdrawing to his own chair. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff. “You’re welcome.”
Athena sipped her tea, allowing the drink to calm her nerves. If only she could escape his company; however, he’d asked her to meet him and as he was her host, she could not deny him. But really, the disquiet she felt in his presence was most unwelcome. And rather than dissipate, it was increasing. Which made no logical sense whatsoever. She’d not been the least bit nervous when she arrived, and yet somehow, with each additional moment spent in his company, she felt herself more unsteady than ever before.
Needing to fill the air with something besides tense silence, she glanced at the book he’d set aside when she’d arrived and asked, “What are you reading?”
“Ivanhoe.”
“Really?” Athena turned in her seat so she could better face him. “I adore that story.”
Darlington chuckled. “I’m not surprised.”
“No?”
“You always were the adventurous sort.” He met her gaze and rather than finding censure there, she saw interest. “Remember when you climbed the tree to access the roof on the stables?”
She grinned. “You and my brother were chasing me.”
“We were pretending to be officers on a mission to catch a traitor. But you knew Charles was scared of heights and wouldn’t come after you. And you were too fast for me. By the time I clambered up onto the roof, you were gone.”
“I wasn’t far away, though,” she said as the memories came flooding back. “I’d slipped through the ventilation hatch and was hiding right beneath you.”
“But I looked,” he said, his voice incredulous.
“And you probably saw a pile of hay.” When he nodded, she smiled. “I was inside it.”
“Really?”
She sipped her tea. “If you’d jumped down I’ll wager you would have landed on top of me.”
Amusement lit his eyes for a moment before they dimmed. A frown appeared on his brow. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved toward you earlier today. Your intentions were good and I…I was unpardonably rude.”
“No one would fault you for not desiring to meet with me. Considering the damage I caused you, I certainly cannot. Nor am I able to blame you for not accepting my apology.”
“I do, though.”
“What?” Her heart gave a hard thud.
“I forgive you, Athena. In fact, I did so a long time ago. After all, you were only a child intent on doing the right thing. It is just that your coming here unannounced caught me completely off guard. I wasn’t prepared to face you.”
“I’m sorry. I probably should have sent a note.”
He answered with a snort. “You’ve never adhered to protocol, so it’s not surprising you did not think to do so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So you’ve said. Multiple times. I wish you would stop.” She scrunched her mouth in protest, prompting him to laugh. “Life must be an unbearable struggle for you, having to follow rules, being forced to adhere to social etiquette without compromising your own true self.”
He had her pegged to perfection. Athena sank back against her chair with a sigh. “I’m a burden to everyone close to me – a constant threat to everyone’s reputation. It’s why I’ll probably never marry. Because no respectable man will want to take me on. I’m too big a risk.”
“You have gumption, Athena. Life with you would never be dull. Indeed, I imagine it would be riveting.” His voice was low and strained in a way that surprised her. “You’ll find the right man eventually, I’m sure.”
“Time will tell, I suppose.” She appreciated his attempt to lift her spirit, but she wasn’t sure she believed him. Deciding to change the subject before he began suspecting she might want his pity, she asked, “Why have you not married?”
He raised one eyebrow at her. When she did not blink, he eventually said, “After being thrown over twice, I must confess I have not been especially eager to risk a third humiliation.”
“Twice?” Athena asked.
“Bethany wasn’t my first fiancée. I was engaged to Miss Charlotte Walker a few years prior.”
Sweet heavens. Athena didn’t know what to sa
y. She felt even worse now, knowing she’d ruined his second attempt to marry.
“I was young and believed Charlotte to be the love of my life. As it turned out, she was only in love with my title. When she realized there wasn’t a vast fortune to go along with it, she ran off with my cousin.”
The air left Athena’s lungs. “No.”
“Not that he was wealthy or titled, mind you. Billings was a rake but she was apparently drawn to that.”
“Goodness. I’m so—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” he told her sternly. “I won’t have it.”
“Very well then, but I cannot pretend to be glad. I hope Charlotte Walker will regret the choice she made for the rest of her life.”
His lips quirked. “I believe she might. As for me, I imagine I was saved from a loveless marriage. Twice, thanks to you.”
“If love was what you wanted, then why insist on marrying Bethany?”
“Because I decided to make a practical decision for a change – to choose my wife sensibly instead of using my heart. After all, the heart thing proved a complete disaster so…” He puffed out a breath. “During the last few years I’ve been busy, working to get my finances in order. Bethany’s dowry was supposed to help improve the running of my estate. Without it, I faced a greater challenge, and when my father passed last year, I inherited an unexpected amount of debt.”
“Have you managed to pay it off yet?”
“Mostly. I sold the properties that weren’t entailed and auctioned off the art he’d collected over the years. With my own investments beginning to show returns, things are finally starting to look up.”
Athena nodded. “I’m pleased. You deserve a bit of good fortune after all you’ve been through.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your saying so.”
“And if there is anything I can do to help you in some way…” She bit her lip. “Please reconsider the offer I made to you earlier. With my family’s help your reputation can be restored.”
“I’ll consider it, although the very idea of returning to the marriage mart makes me shudder.”
She grinned. “I know how you feel.”
He watched her pensively for a moment. “Perhaps you’ve a point, though. If we can show the ton we’ve made amends by stepping out together, there might be hope for us both.”
“You think being seen in your company could help my reputation as well?”
“I don’t see why not.” A thoughtful gleam lit his eyes. “I mean, if I show the world I’ve forgiven you for what happened, no one else should have cause to blame you. And by dancing with you—”
“Dancing?” she squeaked, her insides shivering at the idea of him holding her close.
“Mm…hmm…” Something dark and dangerous swirled in the depth of his gaze. “I am a marquess, after all. My showing you favor would surely be to your advantage.”
“I, um…” Her words caught in her throat. She could not speak or think or even move. All she could do was sit there while he held her captive with the intensity of his stare. Heat washed her skin while tiny sparks danced their way through her. The air grew strained – thick with an odd new awareness she’d never experienced before. She was alone, not with the boy she’d once known, but with the man he’d become, and for the first time in her life, she was scared – scared of the way he made her feel, scared of the power he seemed to wield, scared of what might happen if she gave into the fierce temptation assailing her at this very moment – the reckless desire to climb into his lap and kiss him senseless.
She stood – bolted out of her seat, more like – and crossed to the bookcase furthest away from where he sat. Good heavens. She stared at the shelves and at the vast variety of leather bound volumes they housed. Her hand reached out for support. He’d muddled her head and rendered her breathless. How was that possible?
“Athena?” His voice was too close. She spun around and there he stood, too tall and imposing for her to think straight. He frowned. “Is something the matter?”
She shook her head. “No. Not at all.”
“It was just a suggestion,” he said. “If you do not wish to dance with me, you obviously shan’t have to.”
Swallowing, she skirted along the bookcase, removing herself from his vicinity. “All right.”
“All right?” He watched her with a puzzled expression, clearly unsure of what she might be agreeing to.
Athena couldn’t blame him since she’d no idea herself. She just knew she felt like her world was tilting, and she was falling and somehow he’d made that happen, though she’d no idea how. “I need some more tea.”
“Of course.”
She gave a curt nod to cement the notion, to cement herself, and went to collect her cup.
Robert watched Athena walk away. Flee, more like, to the safety of her chair. His chest tightened. The suggestion they dance together had clearly alarmed her. He clenched his fists and tried not to feel too affronted. Instead, he forced himself to think clearly – rationally – without emotion fogging his brain. Athena was brave. She never ran from anything. Why, then, would she run from him?
He pondered his own response to her – the inappropriate attraction he could not deny. Lord help him, he’d not thought she could look more tempting than when she’d put her entire leg on display while mounting her horse, but he’d been wrong. The dress she presently wore, while modest and drab in cut and color, fit her so snuggly he could not ignore her luscious curves. Christ, how he longed to slide his palm over her, to cup and squeeze her until she begged for more.
He was a cad. A disgusting bastard who needed to get his head out of the gutter.
But what if…
What if the attraction was not one sided? What if she experienced it too?
He knit his brow.
Could it be possible?
It was the only thing he could think of that might distress her. Especially if she did not understand what was happening. Equally thrilled and appalled by the prospect of him appealing to her on a more elemental level, he forced himself to remain where he was, to turn his back and quietly study his bookshelf while giving himself time to think and her a chance to regain her composure.
His heart knocked hard against his ribs. They’d only just been reunited. She was a Townsbridge. He could not allow himself to act rashly. Removing himself to a nearby window, he gave his attention to the outdoors, only to find himself gazing at her reflection in the glass. He had to marry one day. His last two attempts had led to disaster. Finding a woman who’d want him after the ordeal he’d been through would be a chore. And Athena owed him.
No. That wouldn’t do.
He could not permit himself to pursue her unless he did so for the right reasons.
His muscles responded, tightening at the idea of having her all to himself. There was certainly one reason he could think of. Their marriage would not lack passion. And she needed someone firm to guide her – to reel her in and keep her safe.
A smirk caught his lips. He glanced at where she sat. Firelight played upon her skin and with her mass of curly brown hair flowing over her shoulders, she looked divine. Lowering his gaze to the swell of her bosom, he dug his fingertips into his palms and clenched his jaw. Yes. He wanted her. More than he’d wanted Charlotte, more than he’d wanted Bethany, more than he’d ever wanted anything else in the world. He wanted to possess Athena’s fiery spirit, to bask in the pleasure he knew he’d find in her arms, to savor the joy she would bring to his life, the vitality of her nature. She was what he required – the path to true happiness. Perhaps even to love. And how the hell he’d not seen that years before was beyond him.
Because she’d been a child.
That was no longer the case. Thank Christ.
Nervous trepidation skipped through him. It had been years since he’d romanced anyone. He scarcely knew where to begin.
Slowly, his instinct warned, and by ensuring she might be open to his advances.
After all,
the very last thing he desired was a repeat rejection. Coming from her, he doubted he’d ever recover. He took a steady breath, tried to find some sense of calm. Nothing else had ever counted as much as his next words would.
“Do you still collect flowers?” He’d not really known what he’d say until he’d said it, and somehow the question seemed perfect. The subject was safe, allowing them, he hoped, to return to a more relaxed mood.
She turned slightly in her chair so she could watch his approach. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember.”
He studied her as he drew nearer, noted how she averted her gaze and started to fidget. Forcing a casual lilt to his voice, he said, “How could I not? You were always searching for four leaf clovers and marveling over plants you’d never seen before.”
A grin brightened her features. “I have ten notebooks now, filled with my flowers and notes.”
“Ten? That’s rather impressive.”
“No replicas,” she added. “Each flower is unique.”
“I’m guessing some must have come from a hothouse.”
“A few, I’ll confess.” She tilted her head and gave him a smile. “Do you still dabble in poetry?”
“Poetry? I don’t recall ever—”
“The barmaid down yonder, does make one wonder, about gravitational forces. Her breasts are so large, they’re in need of a barge, while her arse needs a team of ten horses.”
Robert barely managed to wait for her to finish before a roar of laughter rolled through him. “Good God. You remember that?”
“Of course. Bawdy rhymes have a way of sticking with me, Lord Darlington.”
Interesting.
He considered asking if she’d invented any of her own. Instead he said, “I know I insisted on formal address earlier, but I think we can dispense with that now. Please, call me Robert.”
“If you like.”
The hesitance in her voice did not escape his notice. Deciding to set her at ease, he prepared to return to the amusing subject they’d been discussing, but was stopped from doing so when Dartwood came to announce that supper was ready to be served.
The Townsbridge's Series Page 45
