And then he sighed as he tore the envelope open. “Patience is a virtue.”
It sounded like he was reminding himself.
She couldn’t resist a nervous giggle.
I am besotted with you….
The words left her breathless. They turned everything she knew about him on its head. She didn’t know what to do with them.
“What is it?” she asked, because they were halfway through a case, and as much as she wanted to drag him into her bedroom and kiss him again, it was the middle of the morning.
The servants would be up to see to the rooms shortly. They were probably already gossiping. A woman travelling alone with a duke’s son? The role of secretary had given her somewhat protection in the past, but now…? She’d seen the way the serving maid glanced at Edwina’s mouth, and was fairly certain her recent sin was written all over her skin in a flush of color.
“Lady Willoughby suffered several nightmares last night,” he murmured, reading the missive. “She’s taken ill with the shakes. Says she felt like she was trapped in a dark world, where Bletsoe looked like it was in ruins. She won’t stop crying, and Lord Willoughby is distraught.”
Edwina swiftly snapped to attention. “Nightmares? Or were they planted in her mind?”
“Or is she picking up on something?” he mused, tapping the envelope against his lips. “Your wards are good, but I think we might need something… a little stronger. I’ve brought a few holy relics….”
A necessity when dealing with much of the unknown.
Regardless of what one believed, holy relics were powerful for the sheer amount of belief they soaked within.
“I’ll fetch them then.”
And she turned toward his rooms.
His mind was elsewhere.
It was the only excuse.
Edwina disappeared inside his bedchamber, and then Sterling suddenly realized exactly what was nested next to his small case of holy relics.
“Edwina!” He bolted toward the door.
Too late.
She was by the bed. Hand deep in his personal satchel.
It was something she’d done a thousand times before as his secretary—she was privy to everything that came across his desk, but this time?—
“Stop!” he yelled, throwing himself toward her as her hand closed over the little velvet box nestled securely within the satchel.
They collided in a spill of fabric. His hand closed over hers, forcing the box closed.
“What on earth?” She blinked up at him in surprise.
His stomach was in freefall. His heart in his throat. He stared at her as her shocked expression gave away to a scowl.
“What are you trying to hide?” she demanded, tugging her hand out of his.
He snatched at the box. “Don’t?—”
Edwina gasped as she flicked the box open and saw its contents.
Fuck. Sterling staggered to a halt. It was too late.
The heat drained from his face.
