Heat rose to my face. I’d picked this one because my other dressing gown was white and I thought it would be more visible in the dark while I traversed the house. My heart, which had settled as I walked among the books, thrummed swiftly again.
He was looking at me much in the way he had when he first awoke in the croft—like I was some sort of specter, his woman in white, only this time, clothed in green. My mind had never released me from the visions of that kiss, and seeing him like this, in the dark, alone, with his eyes tracing my face and hair, the feeling of his lips on mine returned full force. I swallowed hard. He was to be the husband of one of my most favorite people in the world. I had to stop reacting to him like this.
But also, should he be allowed to look at me like that?
My fingers curled around the edge of the bookshelf.
“Captain?” My voice wasn’t as steady as it should have been.
His eyes snapped back up to mine, and he held them there as he slowly and deliberately shut the door.
Well. That didn’t help my infuriatingly sporadic heart.
He strode forward with measured and sure feet, his eyes fixed on me and his face stoic. I fought the urge to step back when he stopped only a few feet in front of me. He searched my face again before finally lifting his lips into a smile.
And what a smile it was. The crinkles at the sides of his eyes spoke of our newly found friendship, and the deep lines on either side of his lips seemed to echo our times of rivalry. He’d smiled at me before, sometimes forced and other times surprised, but never like this. Never as if smiling at me were a habit he didn’t intend to break.
His hand lifted as if he were going to touch the tail of my braid but then he stopped himself. “Miss Pryor told me I should meet you here.”
Miss Pryor? He’d always called her Harriet when we’d spoken before, at least when we were alone. I swallowed hardand gave him a perfunctory nod. “I don’t know what she was thinking. If Mrs. Wickerton were to come upon us, she would definitely try to force a marriage.”
He tipped his head to one side. “This meeting is fairly far down on the list of reasons I should marry you.”
My hand flew to my stomach. We had several inappropriate situations between us, but we didn’t speak of them. Especially not in this house. “Have you been drinking?”
His grin widened at my question. “No. Am I acting too joyful this evening?”
He definitely was. I shook my head, feeling the sooner I delivered Hattie’s message, the better.
“Well, I hope the message I have from Hattie brings you even more joy. You will be a regular Brookhouse before we know it.”
The warm smile fractured and he furrowed his brow. “Miss Pryor has a message for me?”
I nodded.
His smile was completely gone now. “Not you?”
I shook my head.
He was so close, it wouldn’t take any effort at all for him to reach his hand up to my cheek and hold it again like he had just before he’d kissed me. But he was in his right mind now. That was never going to happen.
“If that is so,” he said, taking a half-step away from me. “Why didn’t she simply tell me herself?”
All the pent-up energy in my limbs and chest made a quick escape through my throat—a strange, strangled laugh I couldn’t hold back. “I don’t know and I agree wholeheartedly.”
“You didn’t want to meet here?”
“No.” I put my hands out, palms facing him and shook my head. “I wouldn’t have been so foolish or so dramatic.”
“Ah,” he said, and the determination in which he’d entered the room faded like last vestiges of light when curtains weredrawn. His shoulders drooped and his gaze fell to his boots. One hand went to the back of his neck and he tugged down, breathing slow and deep. The force that had linked us from the beginning tugged at me. But I couldn’t go to him. I couldn’t do anything. He was the reason Hattie’s eyes lit up with pleasure. Her heart had been his for years. With an exhale, he dropped his hand and lifted his dappled eyes to mine. “Are you certain?”
“Of course.” I lifted my chin, but it quivered. I balled my hand into my skirt, willing myself to stop shaking. I held his gaze even though the vulnerability in his was shredding the outer layers of my heart. “What reason could I have to meet you, if not for Hattie?”
“That’s something I’ve asked myself a thousand times this evening. I came here with a hope I didn’t know I was capable of. I’ve spent the last hour pacing in anticipation of finding you here. I would have been here sooner if Mrs. Wickerton hadn’t found me in the corridor and peppered me with questions about my woman in white. So when you tell me you are only in this room by Hattie’s request, I must admit to a fair amount of disappointment.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t?” His eyes searched mine. “Then tell me this. Do you have any idea what seeing you in that wrap has done to me?”
