Page 11 of One Night of Temptation
She smiled. “Shall I open the door, Mr. Tarleton?” She wondered if she ought to now call him Hugh.
“Yes, please.”
She unlocked the latch and opened the door. Mr. Tarleton stood between her and the supine form of, presumably, the Irishman. She gasped. “What happened?” She could see the man was breathing, but his eyes were closed.
Mr. Tarleton glanced down at the Irishman. “When I saw him trying to get inside, I hit him. He tried to fight back, but he’s rather inebriated. I hit him again, and he went down like a tree. Tried to get back up, but I convinced him to stay down. He’ll be all right.”
In fact, loud snores began to fill the corridor.
Mr. Tarleton picked up a basket from next to the door and handed it to her. “Take this while I dispose of this nuisance. Lock the door again until I return. I’ll just be a moment.”
She took the basket and watched as he turned and bent over the man. Grasping the Irishman beneath the arms, Mr. Tarleton dragged him toward the top of the stairs. He paused and looked up at her. “Lock the door.”
Clasping the basket more tightly, she retreated a step and closed the door. She now fully realized how foolish she’d been to accept Maisie’s offer of help. If she hadn’t been so desperate to avoid the future her parents had arranged, she would have seen how badly things might have turned out. If not for Mr. Tarleton…
She began to shake as she worked to secure the latch on the door, fumbling in her haste and distress. Feeling a bit numb, she took the basket to the table where she simply stood and stared, unseeing, at the window.
A few minutes later, a knock jolted her. “It’s me, Tarleton.” He was no longer Hugh, then.
She set the basket down and went to the door. “How do I know it’s you?”
“You find the taste of ale exceedingly bitter, as of today. Who else knows that?”
No one.
She unlocked the latch and let him in. “I promise I won’t make light of your name again.”
His gaze met hers, and he abruptly turned from her toward the door. “That’s not why I didn’t say Hugh. I forgot… I’m Mr. Tarleton to you.”
Yes, he was.
He closed the door and secured it once more before facing her again. He wiped his hands together as if he’d just washed them.
“Thank you,” she said, feeling better now that he was back with her. “Again. When I think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been walking down the street at that precise moment…” She began to shake once more.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. And I’m not leaving you alone in this room.”
She wanted to be sure what he was saying. “Does that mean you’re staying here with me?”
His answering stare awakened things inside her that she’d never experienced. Longing. Desire. Temptation. “Yes.”
She should say no, insist he stay in his own room, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to do so. It was scandalous to share this room with him—as they’d already been doing, never mind overnight. Yet she’d wager what little money she hadn’t paid Maisie that Mr. Tarleton was a chivalrous man. She’d heard it in the way he’d spoken to Joseph and in the way he talked of his parishioners. She hadn’t met many men like him. In fact, she wasn’t sure she’d met any.
Mr. Tarleton’s arms came around her, and he pulled her against his chest. “It’s all right. I promise I won’t leave you again.”
She tipped her head back and looked up at him. She knew he was speaking of tonight. Tomorrow, hewouldleave her—he must.
Shockingly, she already dreaded it.
Chapter 3
He should let go of her. He probably shouldn’t have embraced her in the first place. However, when he’d seen her quivering and heard the trepidation and gratitude in her voice, he’d acted without thinking.
Much as he’d done earlier when he’d stopped Joseph from abducting her.
He meant what he’d said—he wouldn’t leave her again. When he thought of what might have happened if the Irishman had managed to get into her room, he nearly shook with fear and fury. Somehow, in the very short span of time he’d known her, he’d developed a passionate need to protect her. It would be alarming if it wasn’t so…right.
He would leave her, however, when he delivered her back to her parents tomorrow. But he didn’t want to—her parents sounded awful. What would her father, who saw Lady Penelope as a means to his own enrichment, do with a ruined daughter?
