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She turned to face Marcus. “And apologize for trying to rearrange his face.”
“No,” Marcus muttered. “Why should I? He started it.”
“You two are worse than children,” she sighed. Then she dusted her hands together. “Are we done here?”
“He is,” Ashley said with a grunt. But then he straightened and adjusted his coat. “But then there’s the matter of my offer.”
Marcus opened his eyes wide. “You still want to offer for her?”
Ashley nodded and Sophia’s belly flipped over.
She stepped closer to Marcus. “No, Marcus,” she said calmly.
“He wants to court you,” Marcus said, and she could almost see the machinations of his mind.
“I do,” Ashley agreed stoically. All because he didn’t know who or what she was. And she couldn’t tell him.
“We’d never suit,” she said. She felt like a book that had been read over and over, always saying the same thing.
“I think we suit quite nicely,” Ashley said smoothly. He winked at her when Marcus turned his head. Her belly did that odd little flip again.
“I’ll think about it,” Marcus said.
“You’ll think about it?” Sophia mimicked, crossing her arms beneath her breasts.
“Yes,” Marcus repeated with a nod. “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you,” Ashley said, extending his hand. Marcus took it with a grunt of dissatisfaction. Or annoyance. Or perhaps he was just dyspeptic. Belatedly, both Sophia and Ashley noted that it was his injured hand. Poor Marcus.
Marcus started for the door. “I’ll send your maid to you,” he warned as he started down the corridor.
Of course, he would.
***
Ashley played over the events of the last half hour in his mind. The lady of his interest, and he most certainly had an interest, glared at him from where she stood.
“Why did you tell him that?” she asked, tapping the toe of her slipper on the floor.
“Tell him what?” Ashley stalled.
“You know what,” she prompted.
Ashley sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. “He said he was taking you away. I spoke on the spur of the moment.” He let his voice trail off on the last. There was so much more he wanted to say. But he wasn’t certain she wanted to receive it. He took one step toward her and looked into her eyes. “How do you feel about me, Miss Thorne?” he asked.
She stuttered only a moment when she replied. “I-I like you quite a lot,” she finally said. Ashley’s heart leapt.
“Do you think that you could love me?” he asked, nearly betraying himself with the softness of his tone. Did he have to seem quite so enamored of her?
Her hazel gaze searched his face. He wondered what she was looking for. He’d thought the important parts worth noticing had died years before. But they hadn’t. They’d been sleeping, just waiting for a little slip of a lady to wake him up. If she looked deeply enough, she would see into his heart. “Do you?” he prompted again when she didn’t answer. She just appraised him.
“Answering that question won’t be beneficial to either of us,” she said. Then she reached out a hand to cup his cheek. He pressed his face into it like a cat. God, he loved the way she touched him. The smoothness of her skin as it rubbed over his. He pulled her to him with a gentle tug, and she fell into him with no resistance. He splayed his fingers like a fan on her back, and she let him hold her tight.
“Could you?” he asked, his lips hovering over hers.
“Maybe,” she squeaked. She turned her head to clear her throat and pressed firmly against his chest. He didn’t let her go. And she didn’t continue to push. She softened after a moment. Oh, she gloriously softened.
“I could,” she finally breathed. Then her lips touched his, a tentative meeting of mouths. He tilted his head so he could drink her in, and she opened to him. Her tongue tentatively rose to meet his. He growled low in his throat.
