Page 69 of Tempting the Earl

“Good morning, my lord,” she managed in an equally proper tone, though her belly had started an odd little fluttering.

The footman brought forth various dishes for her to choose from, but she barely made note of what she put on her plate as her attention remained snared by the man seated at the other end of the table.

Clearing his throat, the earl spoke to the footman, “Would you please go see if there are any of those pastries from yesterday left in the kitchen?”

The servant acknowledged the request with a bow of his head and silently left the room.

The earl stared intently at Ainsworth until the footman was undeniably out of earshot.

The fluttering broke into a swirling dance.

“How do you feel this morning?” His question was low, almost intimate.

Ainsworth replied in the same manner. “I’m quite well.” Then she arched a brow. “And you?”

His quick blink suggested a moment of surprise. “I’m well.”

Ainsworth clenched her teeth. This was ridiculous. The footman could be back any moment.

Shaking out her napkin, she laid it across her lap. Still holding his gaze, she asked, “Why did you take me to my bedroom last night?”

He stiffened. Quiet consternation tugged at his brows. “I assumed that was where you’d wish to sleep.”

“Why?”

His features darkened with confusion.

“Why did you assume that?” she asked again.

His lips parted but there was another moment before he answered. “Because it seemed the most appropriate option to avoid any...distress upon waking.”

She tilted her head. “You thought I’d be distressed if I woke up in your bed?”

He visibly swallowed as his jaw tensed in that wonderful, rather telling way. “Being aware of how highly you value your independence, yes, I considered it a possibility,” he answered, his tone even. Unemotional.

Despite the dispassionate nature of his response, it still managed to strike a sensitive chord within her. Did he see her dedication to self-reliance as a fault? Most people did. That he might also hurt more than she’d expected.

She stiffened her shoulders. “Are you certain it wasn’t because the thought of sleeping beside me through the night triggered your own discomfort?” His frown returned and deepened. But before he could reply, she asked what she really wanted to know, “Do you regret what happened last night?”

“Never.” The word was raw and harsh and so very sensual.

Ainsworth melted. But before she could say anything more, the sound of footsteps stilled her tongue.

The footman entered the room with a platter of pastries in hand and Caillie skipping along behind him.

“Good morning,” the girl exclaimed as she took a seat at the table and immediately reached for the pastries.

Although further discussion with the earl about what had happened and what might be expected to happen going forward was decidedly closed for the time being, Ainsworth felt at least a wee bit assured that the man harbored no regrets. And though she tried to gather a better sense of what he might be thinking, his proper demeanor was firmly back in place. Disappointment surged through her, but she tried not to show it as the rest of breakfast was occupied by Caillie’s endless questions about the party.

Ainsworth described the decorations and ballgowns and music as best she could, while the earl interjected occasional details. At one point, when Caillie asked if anyone particularly exciting had attended, Ainsworth and the earl shared a quick glance. She didn’t miss the subtle question in his gaze.

She would have preferred the news to be framed very differently, but when Ainsworth had told Mr. Thomas she intended to advise his sister of their meeting, she’d meant it.

“Actually,” she began carefully, “there was one unexpected appearance you’ll find of interest.”

Caillie gasped as her hazel eyes widened with curiosity. “Was it the Prince Regent?”

Ainsworth chuckled, “Nay, luv. The prince didnae attend.”

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