Page 77 of The Tempting of Thomas Carrick
Lucilla laced her fingers before her waist, paced, and tried to see some way—tried to weigh the best way—to secure what she wanted and needed from the shifting situation.
She’d got Thomas into her bed—now she needed to keep him there. At least long enough that he would agree to remain there, by her side, of his own volition. Clearly he hadn’t yet reached that state; she hadn’t expected him to, not after just one night.
She needed more of his nights, and his days, too.
Flinging a glance his way, she asked, “Are you satisfied that Manachan can carry on on his own, without your support? That he can find who’s behind all these odd happenings and bring them to justice?”
He didn’t immediately agree, but he considered…then nodded. He met her eyes. “He’s a great deal better—far better than I imagined he might be after so short a time of your treatments.”
So because her treatments had been so perfectly gauged, she was to have her time with Thomas cut short? No—that wasn’t going to happen.
She could understand why Manachan wanted Thomas to leave Carrick lands, and she agreed with both Manachan’s assessment and his directive. Indeed, she, too, had already concluded that she ought to leave, if only to ensure there were no further attacks on her person; such attacks would only escalate tensions within the household and the clan, which were already high enough. So she understood and agreed, but she didn’t have to tell Thomas that.
Folding her arms, she halted and faced him. “I believe I should remain here and make sure Manachan continues to improve. That he continues to be able to deal with whatever the problem affecting the clan is. As my duty encompasses doing what’s best for the people here, then clearly that’s what I ought to do.”
Thomas looked up at her, then he sighed and pointed to the chair she’d vacated. “Would you please sit down so that we can discuss this more easily?”
Seeing the tension around his lips, she humphed and sank onto the cushions. “And that’s another thing—you can’t yet travel back to Glasgow. I stitched the gash in your leg, but it was deep, and serious, and not something to leave to mend without appropriate care. You won’t be able to ride at present, not given the position of the wound, and traveling in a carriage for even an hour will be more than you’ll want to do.”
That he didn’t argue spoke volumes.
He studied her, his gaze steady on her face, reading the resolution that she made no effort to hide.
His lips thinned; his amber eyes narrowed. He drummed his fingers on the head of his cane, then simply asked, “What do I have to do to get you to agree to return to Casphairn Manor?”
She felt her eyes widen; that was a great deal more direct than she’d expected, but she was entirely willing to engage on that plane. She held up a hand to indicate that she was thinking—and did so rapidly—before saying, “You are now, in effect, my patient, until your leg heals well enough for you to ride. I will concede that Manachan should continue to improve without being under my day-to-day care, so I can accept that I do not need to remain here, in this house, on his account. I can also understand that Manachan’s way forward will be easier without you in residence, so I would not argue against his request for you to leave the estate.However, while I will agree to travel with you back to the Vale, I must insist that you remain there, at Casphairn Manor.”
Thomas blinked. He rapidly compared what she was suggesting with what he—and Manachan—needed to achieve. He hadn’t thought to remain in the Vale, but if he did, at least for the next few days, he would be close enough to respond quickly if Manachan needed his support again. Regardless of his uncle’s returning strength, given they had no idea who was behind the recent incidents, being close enough to step in and assist might be a very real boon.
He looked at Lucilla, opened his mouth to agree, but she halted him with an upraised hand.
“I have one more stipulation.” Her eyes captured his; her emerald gaze held him captive. “While at Casphairn Manor, you will share my bed.”
A shaft of pure desire lanced through him. He stared at her.
He should have been shocked; instead, he was intrigued.
He let himself remain within the green fire of her eyes—didn’t bother fighting free. Not yet.
He hadn’t realized—not with his conscious mind—how much of his awareness, of his less-conscious self, had been absorbed with her, with the question of whether one night was all she wished for or if, somehow, their liaison might continue…for at least the few days that she was now insisting on.
One night hadn’t been enough for him—indeed, had only whetted his appetite; apparently, one night hadn’t sated her, either.
Which was…good, wasn’t it? To his advantage? Somewhat oddly, he wasn’t so sure of that.
He blinked free of her hold and refocused on her face, her figure—all of her and not just her mesmerizing eyes. “What about your reputation? Your household? What about your brother?”
She waved dismissively. “I’m twenty-eight, and as my mother’s successor in the Vale, everyone knows and accepts that I have my own eccentric road to follow. No one will question—will feel they have the right to question—whatever route I take. Our staff have always supported me, and always will. As for Marcus, he knows me too well to stand in my way.”
He could well believe that—all of that—yet…he felt as if he were being lured down a path that a wiser—less attracted—man would avoid.
But he wasn’t that man; he was as he was, and what she was offering, stipulation and all, was precisely what he wanted on all fronts, personal as well as clan. In this, it seemed his clan and personal needs ran parallel.
For one instant more, he hesitated, but then surrendered to the overwhelming pressure of his instincts and inclined his head. “Done. And we’ll leave immediately after dinner.”
Her brows rose in consideration, then she nodded. “Very well.” She met his gaze. “With that decided, the situation we’re leaving Manachan to pursue… He mentioned that someone had been on the roof and the falling statue had been pushed off.”
He nodded. Guessing—knowing—what tack her mind would take, he concisely recounted the essential findings, much as he had with Manachan a few hours before.
