Page 13 of The Viscount in her Bedroom
“Then give me your hand.”
He reached down to her, and she reluctantly put her hand in his. He gripped it firmly and hauled her to her feet, then held her a moment too long. His hand was warm and large, and there were calluses across his palm, as if he physically worked for a living. That discrepancy in him had always intrigued her.
He let her go. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, then remembered to speak. “I’m fine. Did I injure you?”
“No, I’m quite healthy. The cane usually reduces the chance that I’ll run into something. And of course Manvil protects me from that as well. But when I was first blinded, he occasionally forgot to mention the corner of a wall or a flight of stairs. The cane has saved me from a bump a time or two.”
How helpless he must have felt, and yet he could joke about it. Her admiration for him only continued to grow. “You must have been quite bruised at first.”
“Nothing compared to my head. A rock hit me on one side, and a horse kicked me on the other.”
“Oh. How dreadful,” she said softly.
A silence began and stretched out. Propriety told her she should leave him, but Fate seemed to be having its way with her tonight, or why else would she have stumbled over Lord Wade? She was determined to make the most of it.
“I hope I did not interrupt you, my lord.”
“Only my thinking. Manvil will be back eventually to collect me.”
“Would you mind if I sat with you until then?” There were so many things she wanted to ask him.
The silence thickened, and there was a new tension from him, although she didn’t know why.
“Do you think I need to be watched over like an invalid?” he asked softly, a dangerous rumble in his voice.
“Gracious, no, my lord!” Suddenly he didn’t seem like the jovial man he’d always presented to the world. Of course his experiences had changed him, and she wondered if he hid it from his family.
He reached toward her, and when his hand touched her upper arm, he gripped it, then caught the other one. She gasped, but didn’t call out, didn’t struggle, even tried to tell herself that she was offended, though she was more curious than anything else.
“I may be blind, but I’m still a man, and you’ve put yourself in a precarious situation by being alone with me. What about your reputation?”
Her mouth opened, but she could think of nothing to say. She was alone in the dark with a handsome man. His lips were closer to hers than any man’s had ever been, and the warmth of his breath bathed her. She could feel each of his fingers imprinted on her flesh, but it wasn’t painful. Her skirts swirled about his legs. It was suddenly easy to forget that he was blind.
“I—I only had questions about your family, about living here.” She sounded breathless, but oh, it was not from fright. “But if you’d prefer that I ask tomorrow, when Manvil is around to protect you—”
He pulled her a little closer, and her hips brushed his. She felt a jolt of awareness that went beyond curiosity to something dangerous.
“To protect me?” he said huskily.
“I didn’t come looking for you, my lord. If you fear that I mean to…cause a scene, or allow myself to be compromised, I will leave this instant.”
His hold loosened, and he sighed. “Forgive me, Miss Shelby. Something came over me when I thought you implied I needed a nanny.” He set her away from him, then ran his hand through his hair. “So you think I might need a chaperone when I’m with you?”
She was beginning to see the pain he kept hidden. More and more she was convinced that he was a good actor. She kept her voice playfully serious. “It’s the only way to protect yourself from me.”
“And you’re so very dangerous.” He sighed again.
Louisa watched as he reached behind him to make sure of the location of the bench. After he sat, she purposefully sat beside him. He gave a start, but said nothing. It was a very small bench, and their arms brushed.
“I can’t stop you from asking your questions,” he said, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles.
Which is how he must have been sitting when she’d tripped over him. If only she could be so relaxed—or pretend to be so. She wasn’t sure which he was doing. Everything inside her quivered with intensity at his nearness. What was wrong with her? She’d been around many men—but only he had ever made her feel so attracted to him that all she could remember was that the front of their bodies touching, however lightly.
He seemed different, here in the dark, alone with her. With his grandmother, he’d been the same man she remembered, cheerful, easy to talk to. Was it all an act for the benefit of his family?
She had to remember that he was not her purpose here. It was his sister who could benefit the most from her assistance. Or maybe the only sibling who would accept it.
