Page 49 of Fit for a Duke
Godfrey chuckled. ‘Nothing to do with the fact that Miss Benton has already retired.’
Ezra’s face emerged from behind his towel as he flexed a brow at Godfrey. ‘And you would know that because…’
‘Because I was having a delightful conversation with her pretty maid when Miss Benton rang her bell and Daisy scampered off to serve her.’
‘I am sure Miss Benton regrets cramping your style. Has Daisy returned to the servants’ hall?’
‘Why?’ Godfrey looked genuinely shocked. ‘You don’t mean to visit the chit, surely?’
‘Idle curiosity,’ Ezra replied laconically.
‘How else do you think I knew for certain that Miss Benton had retired for the night?’ Godfrey asked, grinning. ‘Daisy returned below stairs and told me so. We had resumed our conversation, before you interrupted it, that is. I do wish the gentry would have more consideration.’
Ezra laughed. ‘Go back to your maid and enjoy her smiles. As I said, I shall not need you again tonight.’
‘Don’t suppose you will,’ Godfrey replied, chuckling as he let himself out of the room.
Left alone, the idea of calling upon Clio had taken root in Ezra’s head and he couldn’t seem to shake it off. It would be madness in its purest form, highly irregular, lunacy even, but he needed to talk to her, to assure himself that Salford had not insulted her in a manner that would justify Ezra’s intervention.
He knew that sleep would elude him until he had heard that assurance from her own sweet lips. He groaned when he thought of the lips in question and wondered if he would be able to harness his passions when alone in a bedchamber with the female who rather alarmingly was beginning to occupy an increasing number of his thoughts.
Don’t risk it,the voice of his conscience advised.
Put her interests first,his gentlemanly instincts responded.
She was unconventional, he reasoned, but reckless too, and he didn’t want her to do anything rash that she would later regret. Ezra himself was above rash behaviour, of course—waltzing with a chit barely out of the schoolroom in front of an assembly of society’s elite and holding her far too close notwithstanding. That hadbeen reckless, and he was now paying a heavy price for it as recollections of her curvaceous body beneath his questing hands played havoc with his equilibrium.
Even so, he simply had to see her. Now. Tonight. Immediately.
The situation had become more complex. She had a right to know about Lady Walder’s convoluted involvement and he would never have a better opportunity to speak to her alone without fear of interruption or of being overheard.
She does know,his conscience pointed out.
Even so…
Before he could talk sense into himself, Ezra uncoiled his tall frame from the window seat, crossed the room and opened the door. The party was still in full swing. He could hear the sound of music, conversation and laughter from the floor below. He could hear the sound of girlish giggles coming from the picture gallery and the deep, coaxing tone of the man who had engaged that female’s attention. He happened to know that Clio’s room was in the opposite direction and so he would not need to interrupt what was clearly a tryst, turning instead away from it.
He paused when he reached her door, wondering if she would have actually retired. The thought of seeing her in her bed stirred up all sorts of inappropriate desires that almost occasioned a change of heart. He did not possessthatmuch self-control. He allowed himself a wry smile, thinking that as far as Clio was concerned, he had no self-control whatsoever. If anyone had told him beforehand that he would come to this party and visit an unmarried chit in her bedchamber through choice he would have laughed in their faces.
Shaking his head at his own folly, Ezra heard voices approaching. Aware that he couldn’t stand about outside a lady’s bedroom door indefinitely, he gave a perfunctory knock and opened the door in question.
‘What is it, Daisy?’
Clio sat on her window seat, much as Ezra had been until a few moments before, presumably mulling over the events of the day. She held a letter in one hand and wore a robe over her night attire. Her hair had been loosely braided and fell in a long rope over one shoulder.
‘It’s me. Can I come in?’
‘Ezra?’ She leapt to her feet. ‘What on earth…?’
‘We need to talk.’ He took her hand and led her back to the window seat. She fell back onto it and he took a place by her side, releasing her hand and ensuring that a respectable amount of space separated them.
‘Why? What about?’ Her eyes were wide and wary. ‘Has something happened that I need to know about?’
‘You appeared distressed when you left the drawing room, and I was worried. What did Salford say to overset you?’
She sent him a disbelieving look. ‘You risked coming to my room at night just to ask me that?’
‘I feel responsible,’ he said, thinking how lame that sounded, hoping she would not assume he had come with alternative intentions in mind.
