Page 31 of Tempting Mr. Townsend
He offered his arm and to his relief, she accepted it. He'd already noticed she didn't hold a grudge. “I think you're entirely charming. Surely you know that.”
His declaration troubled rather than pleased her. “You're very kind.”
I'm very besotted.
What was the point of fighting? It was true. It had been true from the first. He kept the thought to himself and began to outline his plans for the house. By the time they arrived at her room, her smile was almost natural. “Thank you. I'd never have found my way.”
“Sleep well, Fenella.” He smiled back as he reached past her to open the door. Then because he couldn't resist, he kissed her gently.
In the flickering candlelight, he studied her bonny face. He saw signs of exhaustion and strain. And reluctance and confusion. A hint of guilt.
And deep in the blue eyes, a longing that called him as inexorably as the moon drew the tide. His heart kicked with futile excitement. After all, right now he couldn't do anything about it.
“Good night,” she whispered. As she disappeared behind the door, he heard her murmur, “Anthony.”
He stared at the closed door. Much as he burned to follow her into that room, now wasn't the time. His blood might beat with the primitive urge to conquer and possess, but he wasn't animpetuous boy. Every instinct screamed that if he pushed now, he'd lose any chance with her.
Fenella Deerham had ceded more than she wanted to. He must be satisfied with that—and hope that if he won her trust, she might yet give him everything.
First he needed to lure her back toward life. He didn't resent her love for her first husband—or no more than any man wanting a woman who still dreamed of another lover. He even found it in himself to be glad that she'd known a good man's love. She deserved it. Hell, she deserved everything good in the world.
But Deerham was dead. While Fenella was alive, and unless Anthony deceived himself, attracted.
Because the prize was worth winning, he'd proceed cautiously. But in this empty hallway close to midnight, he vowed to raise Fenella Deerham out of sorrow into the bright sunlight of joy.
Chapter Nine
Fenella sat squeezed next to Anthony in his sporty carriage. Night was falling, and they were still more than an hour from London.
She thought the journey down had been awkward. She'd had no idea. Now the big, warm body wasn't a stranger's—far from it, she knew so many intimate things about him, from the taste of his kiss to the scent of his skin—and she wished herself a million miles away.
“Damn it, woman, stop wriggling,” he growled. “It's like being tied in a sack with a dozen eels.”
“You didn't have to drive me,” she pointed out, folding gloved hands in her lap to hide their shaming tendency to tremble.
“Aye, I do. If you're so all-fired keen to get back, I'll see you arrive safely.”
He sounded grumpy. So did she. “We've risked enough scandal.”
In the fading light, she saw his lips turn down in derision. “Then the damage is done. You might as well have stayed.”
“You know I couldn't.”
“I know no such thing. Brand would like it.”
Brand would indeed like it. So, unfortunately, would she. The regrettable truth was that she'd fled the Beeches because she was afraid, not because she guarded her reputation.
“Brand got a fair share of what he wanted anyway, considering how much trouble he and Carey caused,” she said grimly.
She'd given in to her son's pleading and left him behind. She couldn't send him back to school, whatever accusations of coddling that invited from her monumental companion.
Last night she'd gone to her lonely bed, determined to leave at the earliest possible moment. Yet somehow the morning had dwindled away in spending time with the boys and trying not to dwell on last night's kisses.
It had been a wrench to leave her son. It always was. Even now when they might find a way to live under the same roof. Perhaps this escapade would end happily for Brand at least. Except somewhere in the last twenty-four hours, the idea of a quiet, rural hideaway for Brand and her had lost its charm.
Curse Anthony Townsend and his kisses.
“You've forgiven them,” he said. “You forgave them the minute you saw they were safe.”
