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‘Sell it, then.’ Ana shrugged and put down the glass. ‘The man is full of guilt for what has happened. That, and perhaps he wants to ensure you hold your tongues. The Chalice has vanished into its hiding place again—the count wants to pretend nothing has happened, that his lies about his mother’s collapse are the truth.
‘Now I go to my bed and leave you to your strange courtship.’ She leaned close to Elinor as she passed. ‘It is easier to make love, my respectable English miss, if you are both on the same side of the door.’
‘What the hell did she mean by that?’ Theo, hands on hips, glared at Elinor. He was still partly dressed, coat and neckcloth gone, his shirt open at the neck, his shoes discarded by the bed.
‘Don’t glower at me,’ Elinor retorted. ‘How should I know what she means?’ She wanted to go to him and finish unbuttoning his shirt, push it back over his shoulders so she could savour the skin beneath, touch it with her lips and fingertips…
‘Why were you following her?’
‘I wasn’t,’ she denied, then realised just where that statement left her.
‘You were here already?’
‘I couldn’t sleep, I needed some air. Eva had shown me the stairs to the battlements.’ His expression was sceptical; she couldn’t blame him. ‘Look at me, for goodness’ sake. Do I appear to have dressed up for a seduction? I was sitting outside in one of those niches, that’s all.’
Theo took one long step and caught her hands in his. ‘For how long? Your hands are cold.’
‘I’m not certain, I must have nodded off.’
‘Why couldn’t you sleep?’
Why couldn’t he? she wondered. There was no book beside the chair, no papers. He must have simply been sitting there. ‘I was thinking about what I am going to do next.’
‘You are going to Aunt Louisa in Avignon.’ If he had added good riddance, his tone could not have been any colder, even while his hands warmed hers.
‘No, I am not. I have been thinking. I want to travel. I have my own money, enough to be independent, very independent. I wonder at myself for never seeing it before. I shall find myself a congenial companion and see Italy, Greece, more of France. But while I am making up my mind who to travel with, I will be staying here. They need an archivist and I am suitably qualified.’
‘Travel be damned.’ Theo let go of her hands and took an angry pace away. ‘Eva is matchmaking. She’ll have you married off to that milksop librarian in a month, wait and see.’
‘Phillip is not a milksop,’ Elinor retorted. Even as she spoke she wondered if he was correct. Was Eva matchmaking? ‘He is a pleasant and very intellectual young man. There is no need to sneer at him because he does not go racketing about the country, almost getting himself and everyone else killed in the process.’
‘So you blame me for that after all, do you? I cannot recall inviting you to explore dungeons with me or rush up to my bedchamber brandishing a pistol you cannot use.’
‘You were grateful at the time, damn you. And if I hadn’t been with you in that dungeon, you might be dead now.’ She was too angry with him for tears, although she could feel them hot and furious, stinging her eyes.
Theo looked to be in a towering, inexplicable, rage and suddenly she saw why. ‘Theo—are you jealous?’ He turned away, giving her his back, and reached for the decanter.
‘Why the hell should I be jealous of that youth?’
‘I do not know, that is what is puzzling me,’ Elinor confessed, her own anger ebbing away as she stared at the uncommunicative set of his shoulders. ‘If you are pouring wine, I will have a glass.’
He set it down with a snap and walked away from her. When he turned, she saw that strange darkness was in his eyes again and his voice was flat. ‘I do not understand why, if you want to travel, you will not do it with me, but need to find a stranger. Why, if you need a man, you do not take me. Is he so much more intelligent, is that it? Am I not up to your lofty intellectual heights?’
He was making no sense at all. Elinor stared, then took a deep swallow of wine and sat down. ‘I do not want Phillip Finchingfield. He is a nice young man, with the emphasis on young. Eva is not matchmaking, she is amusing herself.’ She had to work this out as she went along, and her own emotions were so tangled they were not helping one whit.
‘How can I travel with you without marrying you? And I have told you why I will not do that. I cannot marry a man who does not love me.’
Theo was staring at her from across the room. Then, very slowly, he sat down on the edge of the bed as though standing was no longer an option. ‘You would marry me if I loved you?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Too late she saw where this had led her: virtually into a confession of her true feelings for him.
‘But I told you I did. I told you I loved you that morning after we made love all night. But you hushed me, misunderstood me to mean that I loved you as a friend and made it very clear you did not love me.’
‘You meant you really want to marry me?’ This couldn’t be true, surely? Something this wonderful simply could not be happening.
‘I do. I want to marry you even if you don’t love me. Elinor…’ Somehow he was on his knees beside her chair, her hands in his. ‘Nell, I love you and I want you and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I know you like our lovemaking, that we have fun together. That’s a start, isn’t it—if I can convince you I love you, you will marry me?’
‘I believe you.’ And she did. That shadow had gone from his eyes—this was Theo looking deep into her soul, Theo, his pulse thudding hard against her fingers. ‘And I love you.’
