“He already knows too much,” the marquess grumbled, sounding more like a bear than a man. “I’ll come with you. I’m perfectly fine—”
“Oh my goodness, are you kidding me right now?” she said as he left the bed again. “How stubborn can one person be?” She ignored his pouty glare. “Get in that bed right now or I’ll beg Will to take me back.”
She liked that her threat worked. It meant…something, didn’t it? Did he hate the Gables so much that he wouldn’t allow her to need their help? Or—
“Are you jealous?”
She thought he could handle her directness, but he threw back his head and laughed before he climbed back into bed. Clearly, Aria thought, watching him, her question rattled him though he tried way too hard to pretend it hadn’t. What kind of laugh was that anyway? It couldn’t be genuine. It was as if he was holding nothing back, His mouth was wide open, and his eyes were half closed as he emanated a nervous, high-pitched sound that was every bit as endearing as his nose scrunching up when he looked at her as his laughter faded.
Adorable, she thought succinctly and folded her arms across her chest like a shield to ward off his extraordinary charm. Not only was he so handsome she didn’t think she would ever get used to looking at him, but he was adorable. “Are you going to answer the question?”
“No, it’s too ridiculous.”
“Is it?”
“Miss Darling,” he said with a faint hint of his elusive smile. “I have never been jealous of anyone or anything a day in my life. I simply don’t want you around a dangerous man like Harry Gable.”
“That’s a relief, because I wouldn’t ask Will to spend time alone with me checking doors if you were jealous. Well, have a good rest.” She breathed a little sigh and turned on her heel to go.
She waited with breath held for him to summon her back, but he didn’t. He let her go. Well, then, he said everything he needed to say. She hurried out of the castle before the marquess could call her back. She took her coat, but the weather had changed and left wet, melted snow in its wake.
She knew the way to the Gable’s holding. The marquess would be angry with her if he discovered she’d gone out alone, but she was too annoyed to care. Exactly what was so funny about him being jealous of Will?
She was sure he liked her, unless—wait! What if this was all part of his magnetism, the stuff that oozed out of him on the dance floor? He was a playboy, wasn’t he? She’d seen his sultry smirk at the women who watched him with hungry eyes.
They wanted him in bed, and his eyes said, “yes, let’s go.” Was all this tenderness and attention a ploy to get her into his bed? It worried her because she wasn’t sure she could hold up her fist and shout in triumph. She’d wondered a few times already what he would be like in bed.
She was a virgin, though she’d come close once or twice with Freddy Harkin when she was sixteen. Freddy was eighteen and putting the pressure on her to go all the way. She didn’t let him have his way but stopped speaking with him altogether.
There was no time in Aria’s life for a boyfriend or a child. Guys didn’t usually get her blood burning like molten lava through her veins. But Lord Grayson Barrington Marquess of Dartmouth in the year 1795 did.
When she climbed the steep hill and crossed above the western wall of the castle, she looked down at the small roof where she’d seen him dance for the first time. She would never forget how beautiful he looked, like an enchanting faerie dancing to music only he could hear.
She heard a sound like a dry twig crack. She turned but saw no one behind her. For an instant she thought her door might appear. Of course, she would run straight to it. Wouldn’t she?
Another sound grew into footsteps, and she thought about running. The Gable house wasn’t much farther.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and stopped her from moving. She spun around, ready to kick, and saw Will. He smiled, exposing a deep dimple in his cheek. The marquess should be jealous of Will Gable. He was kind, helpful, and handsome.
“What are you doing here alone? Did you and the marquess bicker?”
“No, nothing like that.” She told him about going to the coffee house and how the men attacked the marquess and struck him in the head. After Will admonished her for going to an establishment that had banned women, he asked about the marquess’ wound and how serious it was. She let him know what the physician said and followed Will into the house at his invitation.
“My mother is eager to see you, and Harry is working at the mill so you will not run into him.”
He brought her to the sitting room and offered her a seat near the roaring hearth fire. He smiled at her as if she was his home and he’d been away for a year.
At any other time in her life, she might have been happy to see such a reaction from a kind, handsome man like Will, but after the marquess had torn away all her defenses with his piercing, searching gazes, what made her happy had changed.
“I’ll let my mother know you are here.”
She nodded and watched Will break away from her and leave the room. She wiped her brow. She had to find the door today. What made her happy had changed. The thought boomed through her mind. Dancing again—dancing with the marquess—staying here with the marquess—no! “I can’t stay with him,” she admonished herself. “I must go no matter how much of my heart is already lost.”
She closed her eyes and brought her mother to the forefront of her mind. Her mother needed her, and she would go.
She didn’t see the little mouse watching her from behind the leg of another chair.
Chapter Fourteen