“Is she dressing to receive him?”Or did she ask him to return at a better hour?
“No, miss. She said if the gentleman calls upon you, then you must receive him.”
That had her gaping like a fish.Well, then.Niggling at her was Halsey’s prickly attitude of their last few encounters. “Is he angry?”
“Angry, miss? No. Rather, I say he has the look of a fellow who has been up all night arguing with himself.”
“Oh. Arguing, eh? Merci, Friendly. I will be down. Soon…soon.” She spun around.What to wear to argue with a man? How to go without minutes spent fighting with corsets and petticoats?
“Come quickly, miss. He does not relinquish his hat or gloves or coat. He…paces.”
“Paces?”
“Like a cat, miss. A large one.” He waved a frustrated hand, then left.
She dropped her pillow, ran to pull the bell for Mary, then charged into her bedroom to her lingerie chest of drawers and grabbed a petticoat and…
In the hall, Friendly barked, “Sir, you must not—”
“But I will!” a booming voice responded.
Oh, he wouldn’t invade her bedroom!
But her door latch clicked. Her hall door slammed shut.
She stiffened.
Strong footfalls made their way across her sitting room floor. She hurried around the doorway and saw…
The Earl of Halsey strode toward her. He wore his coat and gloves but threw his hat to her chair.
“You…you should not be here,” she told him, laughter bubbling inside her at his audacity, fear crowding it out at the dour look turning down his enticing lips.
“You are right,” he agreed, and two gloves sailed toward her bed. He shrugged those wide shoulders and his greatcoat fell in a heap to the rug.
She retreated a pace, her back to her chest of drawers, her underthings slipping from her fingers. “You are too early. I am not dressed.”
“So I see.” His fierce violet gaze took in all of her, her hair curling wildly about her face and throat, her nipples tingling from his presence, her body, flooding with warmth that he was here and yet afraid—oh so very afraid—that he had come to bid her farewell.
She tilted up a defiant chin. “I must put on—”
“Not for me.” He caught her with one hand to her jaw and another going around her waist. Crushing her close along his long torso and muscular legs, she whimpered, but tried to fight him. “Stop that.” He clamped her hips to his.
“Why come like this?” She wished she could summon tears.
“Because I must shock you from your past. You tell yourself you must preserve your independence. But I am not a man who would take your sovereignty. I would treasure it, savor it. You know it. Say it.”
She flashed frustrated eyes at him.
“Say it,” he crooned, loosening his hold on her jaw and caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“I know…”
“Yes, the rest of it.”
“I know I could be free with you.”
“The good and the…”
