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‘I have never been accused of jealousy before,’ he continued, spinning her so that their thighs touched momentarily and her swirling skirts flew around his legs and then away, like seaweed caught by a wave.
‘No?’ It was a very beautiful diamond. And she could smell him, his cologne, the scent of clean linen, cold skin, hot man. She shifted her gaze upwards, as far as it felt safe. Up to his chin, close shaven, up to his mouth. A mistake. It was too sensual, too masculine, too tempting. ‘I am sorry,’ she
ventured. ‘I was mistaken, of course. Why should you be jealous? I just wanted to hit back because you were criticising me.’
Those tempting lips curved—almost a smile. ‘You were not mistaken, Maude.’
‘I was not?’ She looked up, startled. Eden was definitely smiling now, more than a little ruefully.
‘No. I am jealous, but, of course, I have no right to be.’
‘I…I do not mind, if you are,’ Maude ventured.
Eden looked down at her, the smile fading, his eyes fathomless. Somehow they were still dancing, had not collided with anyone; somehow he must be concentrating, which was more than she was capable of.
His lips moved. ‘Oh God, Maude.’ Was that really what he had said? He sounded desperate. Her heart thudding against her ribs, Maude held her breath. Eden tightened his hold and swept her round, across the flow of the dancers and then off the floor and through the door at the end of the room.
‘Eden?’ They were in a deserted passageway. Without responding he lifted a branch of candles from a side table, took her arm, guided her along the passage and out into the cold, foggy night air. She shivered as he released her to cup his hand around the wildly guttering flames.
‘It is warm in here.’ He flung open one of the glazed doors that opened on to the terrace and stepped through. Maude followed and found herself in a small sitting room. Eden dropped the latch on the terrace door, dragged the draperies closed and then strode across the room to turn the key in the door.
‘Eden?’ He was walking around the room, setting the candle flame to the others on mantelshelf and side tables.
‘We need to talk.’ He came to stand in front of her, frowning.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. He looked so grim, but then Eden rarely smiled.
‘My feelings for you have become—’ He broke off, searching for a word. ‘Inappropriate.’
‘How?’ Maude managed to say.
‘I desire you.’ He said it as if he was admitting to murder or fraud.
‘And I, you,’ she confessed. ‘I do not find that at all inappropriate.’
‘You do not, Lady Maude?’ he enquired, his voice grating on her title.
‘We are both grown up, we can make our own choices.’ Desire, that is what he had said. But not love. Did he not love her yet, or not recognise that he loved her?
‘Damn it.’ Eden turned abruptly away, went to stand with his back to her, one hand on the mantelshelf. ‘You know this is something we cannot choose to act upon.’
‘Because you would leave me before one night was out?’ she asked softly.
‘Because I would not want to leave you at all,’ Eden replied, still staring down into the cold hearth. ‘It is novelty, that is all it is. It has to be. You are a beautiful woman, a virgin I have come to know as I know no others. I tell myself that of course I want you, and that of course I must not touch you.’
‘Because I am a virgin or because of who I am?’ If only he would turn around so that she could see his face. But perhaps it was easier to speak calmly, frankly, to his unresponsive back. Whatever she did, she must not blurt out her true feelings for him or he would be gone.
‘The former overrides everything else,’ he said drily.
Maude bit her lip, wondering what to say, what to do, to reach him. ‘I find I am not so attached to my virgin state as I once was,’ she said carefully.
That brought him round to face her, at least. But he kept the width of the hearth between them. ‘And what if you found yourself with child? Just another inconvenient bastard?’
‘If we were so careless, then I suppose I would marry you. A child deserves to be loved by both its parents,’ Maude said, calmly, her eyes on his face.
His face stark, Eden took a step back. So, that answered that, the thought of marriage produced a physical response of rejection. Feeling slightly queasy, Maude waited to see what he would say.
‘You are so tired of your family and your friends that you wish to exile yourself from polite society?’ he enquired, one dark brow lifted.
