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A long sigh escaped him as the warmth soothed his tired muscles. Perhaps he should stay another week or two to get Louisa completely out of his mind. Then he might be able to return to town and focus on finding an appropriate wife. He shook his head as his hand tightened around the crystal brandy snifter.
He swallowed down the drink and placed the glass on the nearby stool. After washing, he grabbed the towel and dried himself.
“Your Grace, might I have a quick word?”
“Come in, Andrews.” His valet arrived a day after Harry left.
The door opened, and a short man with very little hair entered the room. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace. I only just found out you had returned. Do you need my assistance?”
“I ate in the village and believe I will retire after my bath. Mr. Fernwood has worn me out today.”
“As you wish,” Andrews said and then cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir, but Cook was wondering how long your guest would be staying with us and if she should expect more company. She should like to know if she needs to order more food.”
Harry stopped drying his hair and stared over at Lewis. “My guest? I was not informed I had a guest.”
“She arrived near on seven, sir. Mrs. White wasn’t certain the lady should be allowed to stay, but she arrived in a large barouche and marched right inside.”
“Her name?” Dread filled him. He didn’t need Andrews to tell him her name. There was only one woman who would travel alone to see him.
“Miss Drake.”
Damnation! “Tell Cook that Miss Drake will be leaving in the morning.” He could not have her here if he were to forget about her.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
“Andrews?”
“Yes?”
“Where is Miss Drake now?”
“First door on the left in the east wing, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” he bit out. Damn her! He left for a few days of peace to get away from her, and she followed him. Who the bloody hell told her where he was? Daphne would never let Louisa know where he’d gone. Charlotte didn’t know. Jenkins knew better.
He pulled on a pair of buff trousers and grabbed his dressing gown before striding down the hall in his bare feet. This obsession had to stop. Being here without her had made him believe it was possible to live his life without her. His life would be different without her...dreadfully boring. But he could manage. He had to.
Maybe having it out with her would finally get her out of his mind.
He pushed the door open and walked into the room. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the fire. He’d expected to find Louisa wide-awake, waiting for him. He closed the door and leaned back against it as he discovered her fast asleep in one of his bedchambers. Seeing her sleeping form with a hand tucked under her cheek and a bare shoulder sticking out from the coverlet, every sane thought disappeared.
Slowly, he slid down the length of the door until he sat on the floor against the hard wood. He was a fool to believe he could live without her. She kept him stable and made him feel insane all at the same time. How could he ever have thought he could forget her? His life was nothing without her.
He was nothing without her.
For a few moments, he could only stare at her as she slept. Chestnut hair had come loose from her plait and fell across her face. His fingers itched to brush the tendrils off her cheeks to see her better.
Dear God, he was mad.
Three days away from her and with one look, he was utterly disoriented...again. He tucked his legs up and let his head rest on his knees. What the bloody hell was he going to do? She bewitched him. If he closed his eyes, he saw her face, her sparkling blue eyes, her pert nose with freckles and her perfect body.
He wanted to do the right thing for her. Influence her to marry a man who would help her reputation, not possibly tear it to shreds.
She’d turned his life upside down from the first time he’d seen her. It always came back to Louisa. She was the only one who ever made him feel this way.
A part of him didn’t want to feel this way any longer. He wanted to be a better man and let her go...but he never seemed to be able to do that. He couldn’t let her go...ever again.
“Damn you, Louisa,” he whispered.
