He pressed it against her palm and curled her fingers around it. “The main door to my residence. My carriage is in the mews. You know my coachman, do you not?”
She nodded. He and Jacob resided in a small stable at the rear of his dwelling.
“When you’re finished here, he’ll be waiting to transport you back to the residence.”
“What about you?”
“I have an urgent matter that requires my attention.” His grin was nearly self-mocking. “Perkins is unlikely to forcemeto sleep on the stoop. You may return the key to me tomorrow. Enjoy the remainderof your evening.” He leaned back in and whispered with a rasp, “Be very selective regarding with whom you traipse up those stairs.”
In astonishment, she watched as he sauntered toward the stairway that would lead him to the floor below. His stride was long, but unhurried, as though he hadn’t a care in the world, as though being in her company had been a lark, as though he hadn’t been on the verge of kissing her. Hadn’t experienced the same magnetic draw she had.
While her blood continued to feel like molten lava and her breath sawed in and out. How could she have been so wrong regarding what had been occurring between them? How was it she had fallen prey to his mesmeric charm?
She was angry, hurt, and mortified. He gathered women about him with the ease that a child collected flowers, but he hadn’t wanted her. Because she was unmarried? But every woman here was in the same state, and yet he’d come in search of companionship so he couldn’t object because she was a spinster. Why then? Why hadn’t he at least wanted to kiss her?
“Miss Townsend?”
Without even noticing it, she’d crept out of the shadows and was nearer to the ballroom entrance. She looked up at the man who’d spoken. His wavy blond hair fell over his brow, nearly obscuring his blue eyes. She’d met him at an afternoon garden party some years back. “Mr. Endicott. How very nice to see you again.”
“I’d not expected you to be here.”
“You know how it is with spinsters. We’re always in need of a bit of company.” She kept her tone light,refusing to allow him to witness her humiliation, her upset. How unsettled she’d become.
Music was drifting out of the ballroom.
“I say, would you honor me with a dance?”
She wasn’t in the mood for any sort of entertainment, but wasn’t that the best way to get over the hurt? Pick oneself up and carry on. “I’d be delighted.”
As he escorted her into the chamber, she wished he was someone else, someone he shouldn’t be, someone with whom it seemed she’d been willing to follow an unwise course.
Chapter 8
Nearing midnight, Daisy slipped the key into the lock of the front door. Traveling to the residence in a carriage that carried the fragrance of bergamot and oranges had certainly done little enough to take her mind off Bishop. Nor had dancing with a couple of fellows she knew from affairs at her uncle’s or dancing with three she’d met only tonight. She should have enjoyed the attention but had been preoccupied wondering at the reason Bishop had abruptly left her.
It was all for the good. She knew that. They were working at cross-purposes. He was embroiled in affairs, and she was invested in ensuring he paid dearly for at least one of them.
Once inside, she headed straight for his library, and upon her arrival there, cursed herself for the disappointment that overcame her because he wasn’t about. Not sitting behind his desk or lounging by the fire in the large chair with its plump cushions, glass of scotch in hand, as he nursed his regrets for having not kissed her. After he’d walked away from her, he’d probably not given her another moment’s thought while she’d been riddled with questions about him.
She wondered if he was outside, strolling alone andlonely, through his gardens. The temptation to wander out the terrace doors in search of him was frightfully overwhelming, even as she chastised herself for the absurdity of it. Although perhaps she should check the back stoop to ensure Perkins hadn’t ignored any knocks out of hand. She was concerned only because Bishop had made concessions to ensure she arrived safely, and she worried that he might have had a time of it getting home.
Of course, he could have plans to stay out until dawn—perhaps with a lady somewhere. Maybe she had been the urgent matter.
Don’t be a blasted ninny.Politeness had caused him to spend some time with her this evening. And he’d grown bored. Such was her appeal. She was predictable. Not enticing nor intriguing. Even the gentlemen in the ballroom had been content with one dance before moving on to someone else. Although perhaps she could have held their attention if she’d wanted, if she hadn’t been distracted with thoughts of Bishop.
Thoughts that were beginning to annoy because they wouldn’t grant her peace. Maybe because she clutched the key that had once lived inside his pocket, had once carried his warmth. Had been gifted to her for the evening as though she were a cinder girl on her way to a ball.
She marched over to his desk and deposited the brass in its center where he would see it on the morrow when he sat to begin his tasks. Would he hold it and take a minute to recall the time they’d spent together? Or would he tuck it away without any thought at all?
Not that it mattered. She’d soon be done with her business here. And other clients would require different information. While some might even have need of proof of marital transgressions, hopefully none would depend upon her spying on Bishop again.
Pivoting on her heel, she carried on into the hallway, directing her feet to take her to the servants’ stairs that would lead her to the kitchens, and from there to the stairs that would transport her to the small bedchamber where she knew she would glance out the window in hopes of seeing him in the gardens. Just a glimpse, just to reassure herself he’d returned home safely.
But as she neared the stairs, she noted the pale light shining into the corridor through a doorway that was normally shut, a room she’d never explored because she’d had no reason to go into it as part of her duties. Also coming from it were grunts and heavy breathing.
She very much doubted a servant was cavorting in that chamber. No, it would be the master of the household, and now she knew what his urgent matter entailed. Bringing a woman here and carrying on as though no one might walk by. Of course, everyone was abed, so in all likelihood the couple wouldn’t be disturbed.
For all of a heartbeat, she considered retreating to the library and sleeping on the sofa there. But what if he was with Mrs. Parker and this was Daisy’s opportunity to catch them engaged in amorous congress? To witness with her own eyes—
