They all scattered, and watching, he shook his head, then looked up from under his black hair. “None claim to have seen it. I’m waiting for Harper to arrive. She may have found it in the sitting room after you left her and then couldn’t find you when I took you to my solar.”
But they hadn’t gone straight to the solar, had they? Harper could have found them with a quick search. But Aria didn’t speak her thoughts. He was already defending the woman who had raised him on her sister’s behalf.
“I worry that because it’s made of gold, it won’t be returned,” she told him and sat when he offered her the seat.
“I thought of that,” he agreed, sitting next to her. “No one here will keep what belongs to me. I’ve spread the news through those women. I lost the key my beloved grandmother gave me. I will reward them handsomely if they find it and return it to me or punish them if they find it and think to keep it. Everyone will hear of it within the hour.” He grinned at her when he was done.
Aria shook her head in disbelief and a touch of admiration and smiled back. “You’re clever.”
“It means you will have to wait a bit longer to go home.”
“Another day shouldn’t hurt,” she said, shocking both herself and him. “We should find the key by tomorrow. How come you haven’t demanded it back from me? Itisyours and itissolid gold.”
He thought about it for a moment. His tea was served, and he sipped it. Aria shifted in her seat. Was he going to answer? She wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t.
“My grandmother told me it would heal me, and she told me something else, but I can’t remember what it was. She had said whatever it was and gave me the key the day she left me. I always thought of her when I looked at the key. I began to hate to look at it. I only just remembered her telling me the key would heal me. She must have known about my future. What else would I need to be healed from? She knew and she still left.”
Aria put out her hand and rested it on his leg—more toward his thigh than his knee. She hadn’t meant to touch him. She pulled away, her eyes wide and repentant.
He leaned in. “Miss Darling,” he said in a quiet tone that sent ripples through her blood, “I give you permission to touch me.”
If she could have turned pale enough to become transparent, she would have. She didn’t know where to look. She didn’t want to stop at touching him. It made her want to cry how much she wanted to dance with him, be touched by him, kissed by him, undressed—
Something warm covered her other hand, breaking through her thoughts like a hammer. She looked to see the hand that had taken hers wasn’t Gray’s.
Will. He must have slipped into the chair on the other side of her. She pulled her hand free and put it in her lap with its twin. Gray was staring at Will as if he were thinking of ways to tear Will apart, beginning with his head.
“My lord,” she whispered, hoping to calm him.
His gaze dipped to hers. “My lord? What happened to you calling me by my Christian name? Gray. Remember?”
She wanted to pinch his arm. He’d given her permission to touch him, hadn’t he?
She could feel Will’s eyes on her. She slid her gaze to his for a quick look. When their eyes met, he reached for her again.
Gray’s arm shot out like a snake and snatched her fingers away before Will touched them. His eyes blazed with warning.
Aria sighed and pulled away from both of them. “What’s going on here?” she demanded.
“Will, have I given you permission to touch me whenever you wish?” She motioned to the marquess. “He learned the hard way. Do you want to be next?”
“Then why do his fingers still rest atop yours?” Will asked.
Aria looked down at Gray’s fingers, and then at him. The instant her eyes met his, he smiled. It felt as if a warm breeze swept over her, through her. Grayson Barrington was so much more than the duke’s mad son. She wanted to find out how much more. “Because I have given him permission.”
Will sputtered for a moment. Aria felt awful. He’d been nothing but kind to her. But she’d made herself unavailable to him, hadn’t she? Could she have done more?
“Will, I—”
“Gable, have a drink.” Before Will could accept or refuse, the marquess called to one of the servants to bring another cup.
“You should not have stayed here with him,” Will said, ignoring Gray’s offer and sounding as if his heart was in his throat.
Aria peeked at the marquess. He didn’t appear to be angry, but she was learning not to trust his expressions.
“I would not have let Harry throw you out,” Will continued.
“Will,” Sarah reached the table and took her brother by the arm, “come away now. You have troubled our lord enough.”