Page 54 of An Arranged Marriage with a Cruel Earl
She never even said she liked you, he reminded himself angrily. She had said he was pleasant. That was all. Nothing in that suggested she wished to be kissed by him, to be held.
“I should...I should return to the house,” he stammered.
She looked confused and his heart twisted painfully. He had scared her. He had moved faster than he should. He had forced himself on her after he had sworn not to.
She did not recoil from your touches and kisses before; a small part of his mind reminded him. He could not afford to let it speak its sense—he had to run. If he stayed there a second longer, he would do things he knew he should not. His desire was like a fire he was struggling to hold in check. Soon it would consume him.
“I should go inside,” he repeated, cheeks flushing. “I promised the butler I would check some things,” he added. “Accounts. My apologies.” He made a wry face, trying to elicit a smile, but she was just staring at him with those same wide, frightened eyes and he turned away and walked as briskly as he could to the house.
“Dash it,” he said under his breath. Why was someone not here to advise him? Neville, Grandma—they could help him with this foolishness. And yet neither of them was there. Neville was two miles away, and Grandma was still too ill to bother with anything that might worry her.
He hurried upstairs, stalked past the drawing room where the cousins were having morning tea, and raced to his chamber. He shut the door and sat down heavily on the bed. He needed time to think.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admitted to the silent room.
He had no idea what he was doing, too much idea of what he wanted to do, and no idea at all how to tell Emmeline, who was far too frightened to hear him.
