Her cheeks went almost as bright red as her hair. It was disarmingly precious. Her freckles faded away, covered by the pink in her cheeks.
“Really, you do not need to mention it,” she said, her eyes skittering away from his face, then back again. “I should not have come into your chambers.”
“It was a kindness,” he said. “And I?—”
“Please do not say ‘took advantage,’” she interrupted, holding up a hand between them. “I have known men who take advantage, and that was not what happened.”
That had been exactly what he’d planned on saying, but he lost the words in a rush of anger that anyone wouldeverdo anything to discomfit Miss Knightley—himself included.
“Fine,” he agreed with a huff. “But I consider it... It isabhorrentto me that any man might make his staff uncomfortable, might make them feel that they are in a position where they cannot say no. So, please, Miss Knightley. Accept my apology. Or slap me across the face. Heaven knows I deserve it. It shan’t affect your position in this household.”
“I am not going to slap you,” she said with a tiny smile.
He copied her expression. “I admit that I am glad for it,” he said. “But I really am sorry. It was a mistake. It will not happen again.”
Her assessing gaze felt heavy upon him. After another long moment, she nodded.
“Don’t think anything of it,” she said at long last. “I bear no grudge. You were not yourself.”
It was so, so tempting to leave it at that, but if he was seeking her forgiveness, he had to do it honestly. Anything else was rank cowardice.
“I was myself,” he said softly. “I was very much myself. I just did not possess the same amount of self-control that I normally do.”
It was tantamount to admitting that he was attracted to her, and he feared that this would undo his good work, that it would make her afraid, make her look over her shoulder every minute, waiting for him to corner her in a dark room.
“Oh,” she said quietly.
“Itwill nothappen again,” he told her.
“All right,” she said. And then again, more firmly, “All right.”
“All right,” he repeated.
There was another of those wretchedly awkward moments. She turned to go, then turned back.
“It’s just...” He braced himself for her anger. “Do you know that, during this whole conversation, your cravat has been…”
She made another illustrative gesture, waggling her fingers in front of her throat. He looked down to see half the garment hanging loose.
“Oh, Lord,” he muttered. He gave her a sheepish look. “My valet asked for the morning off for his mother’s birthday. Apparently, she’s very pious and makes the whole family go to church with her on her birthday. I tried to tie it myself.”
Something tender crossed her face. “You gave your valet the morning off for his mother’s birthday?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
He scowled. “Like it’s precious.”
She smiled. “It is precious.”
“Stop it right now,” he said sternly. “I have a reputation to maintain.”
She did a poor job of pretending she wasn’t delighted. “Yes, of course. Well, come here.”
“I... What?”
Really, what was it with this woman? He had not gotten this tangled up in conversations since he was a child. Maybe not even then. He had been, to hear his mother tell it,annoyinglyprecocious.
