Page 76 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“Will you not call me Ewan?”
“I would still prefer to call you Lord Marquess,” she replied, with a nervous smile.
He nodded, feeling the barrier between them still. The kiss had done little to tear it down, though he felt that a few bricks had been chipped away.Perhaps it is for the best.
“The dinner was a success,” he went on, changing the subject.
She nodded. “Rather frightening too, if I am being entirely honest. If Mr. Booth has taken measures to involve my father, then the situation must be more serious than even we have contemplated.”
“Do you think it has something to do with the mother and sister?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, perhaps he seeks revenge for them, too. It could not have been easy on them, losing their only source of income. They clearly rely upon Mr. Booth, and your father took away that security.”
She frowned. “It seems rather risky though, does it not?”
“Perhaps there is more to this than meets the eye.” Ewan had been pondering the situation for a while, trying to figure out the missing pieces. “Maybe Mr. Booth intends to extort your father in return for your safety. He may simply need to build the level of threat before he makes the request for money, to let your father know that he is serious in his conviction.”
She looked pensive. “It would explain why these two incidents have been near misses, rather than outright attacks.”
“That is what I thought.”
She shuddered, as if a draught had crept in. “Then, I pray that next week comes quickly, for I do not know if that may be too late.”
“I will protect you until then and beyond,” he said, moving towards her.
“It warms me to hear you say that.” She peered up at him. “Did you speak to Gerome about the tickets?”
He nodded. “I caught him on my way up. He will arrange them tomorrow, and he has promised to take money to Fordham’s for your gown. Truly, you will look remarkable in that dress, I am certain of it.” He flashed her an irreverent grin. “Although, I almost prefer you in your nightgown—simple and beautiful.”
She blushed. “Perhaps you ought to take your rest, my Lord Marquess. It is getting rather late and I must take to bed soon, in the hopes of healing these bruises.”
“Are you sending me away?”
She could not look at him. “I think it might be for the best.”
“As you wish, Henrietta.” He turned to leave, feeling crestfallen and somewhat foolish. What else had he expected when they had both made the rule not to touch in any sort of marital way?
“Do I not get a kiss goodnight?” she asked, his heart leaping into his throat. Turning around, he crossed the room towards her and scooped her up in his arms. He held her in a bridal carry, a small squeak of surprise escaping from her lips as he picked her up. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looped her arms around his neck.
“You may always have one, if you so desire it,” he said thickly. Leaning his head down, he grazed her lips in a kiss. He did not know what had come over him, but he felt a newfound desperation to hold her close. There was a comfort in it that he had almost forgotten could exist.
“I would be content just to hold you like this,” he said. “But may I kiss you again?”
She nodded.
He dipped his head and planted a kiss just on her forehead. She chuckled, as though it tickled her. He kissed her again, on the apple of her cheek, before turning and placing a third kiss on the smooth skin of her forearm, where it wrapped about his neck. He inhaled the sweet lavender scent of her oil and knew that scent would always remind him of her.
Carefully, he set her down on the edge of the bed and moved a step or two away. She held out her hands to him, but he did not dare to get too close. Instead, he grasped for her outstretched wrist, and planted a delicate kiss on the underside of it, moving all the way up to the crook of her elbow. There, he stopped, a smile on his face.
He closed the gap between them and gathered her to him in a warm embrace, placing a small kiss on the far edge of her shoulder. Her hands toyed with his hair, tousling it, as she giggled against his neck.
“Goodnight, my darling,” he said, his heart thundering wildly as he released her.
“Goodnight,” she whispered breathlessly.
Standing straight, he retreated to his chambers without another word and lay down beneath the coverlet of his bed. There, he stayed awake for an hour, staring at the far wall in confusion. He was not supposed to be feeling this way about Henrietta, and yet, he could not stop the emotions from overtaking his senses.
