Page 81 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

“Do you think he’ll come back?” she asked.

Ned nodded. “Reckon he’s suspicious. He’ll have someone watch the house. We can’t risk leaving for a while. I must carry on as usual, see what happens. If all’s quiet next Friday, we’ll go into town and be married at once. I’ll buy a common licence to have ready, so there’ll be no banns to read.”

“Friday?” she said in dismay, her face falling. “That’s a whole week away.”

Ned wished it was because she was eager to marry him, but he wasn’t a bloody fool, despite the desire to act like one in her presence. He felt like a boy, eager to please. He wanted to buy her presents and pick flowers for her… in the middle of bloody November. At this rate he’d be writing poetry by Wednesday.

Hell’s bells, what was wrong with him?

“Aye, but we’d best be cautious. I can keep ye safe here, with Rufus to guard when I’m out on the farm. If we’re set upon out in the open, though, and he brings men….”

He shrugged and then cursed himself as any trace of colour left her face, leaving her skin as white as moonlight.

“Ah, don’t fret,” he said, wishing he’d held his tongue. “You’re safe. I won’t let him have ye, my word on it, and once we’re married, you’ll be mine and no man can touch ye but me.”

Her eyes widened, and he wished he’d just kept his bloody mouth shut and said her brother was gone for good.

“Not that I will!” he said in a rush. “I… I know that’s not why… I mean, I know it’s a marriage of… of convenience, like, so… so if you don’t want me….”

To his horror, he felt heat creep up the back of his neck and stain his cheeks.

“I’ll not touch ye,” he said, forcing the words out though he wanted to bite out his tongue the minute he’d said them. What the bloody hell had he just said? She looked so frightened and vulnerable, and he wanted her to trust him even more than he wanted her in his bed. Far more. The trouble was that he wanted to bed her very badly indeed and, good God, he was an idiot.

“Oh,” she said, blinking at him. “I see.”

“So ye need not be… worried or… alarmed.”

“No,” she said.

“You’re safe.”

“Yes. Safe,” she repeated.

“No one will bother ye. I won’t… bother ye.”

Oh God, Ned, stop talking you blithering idiot.

“I see.” She nodded, not looking at him. “I see. Thank you.” She frowned a little as she said that, as if she was unsure whether she ought to thank him.

“Right.” Ned rubbed the back of his neck, which felt as if it was burning. “Well, this is your bedroom now, so… it’s late. You’d best… get some rest.”

She nodded.

“There’re nightgowns and the like in the chest there,” he said, forcing himself not to think about her sliding between the sheets of his bed, and feeling a surge of possessiveness at the idea.

Get a grip, man.

“Thank you.”

“Good night, then,” he said, and almost ran for the door before he made a bigger mess than he already had.

“Wait!”

He halted as she spoke, her voice breathless and urgent. Ned turned to see her wringing her hands together.

“Where… where will you sleep?”

“The chair by the fire.”