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He was not ready to end their tryst. Meeting her gaze for a long moment, wishing he could reassure her, or seek his own reassurance from her.
“I suppose we will not be far behind you on the road back to London,” she said, at last.
* * *
Back in her rooms, Lydia struggled to fight back tears while helping her maid pack her trunks. As much as she had considered returning to London, she felt as though she had jinxed herself. Forced to return now, she wished that she had the option to stay.
“Perhaps you can finish your visit after the Season,” the maid said, then paused. “Well, I suppose you will be married by then, my lady, and you’ll be here to stay for good.”
“Yes, that is the plan,” Lydia whispered, only for the floodgates to break open. She broke down sobbing, collapsing to the floor in front of her trunk.
“My lady!” the maid cried, rushing to Lydia. Holding her shoulders, she rubbed her arms reassuringly. “My lady, what is the matter? You will be back soon. Whatever is wrong?”
Struggling to control her sobs, Lydia shook her head. “I cannot say.”
“Shh,” the maid cooed gently. “My lady, perhaps it’s your courses. Ladies have all sorts of moods.”
Not wanting to admit the real reason for her tears, Lydia just nodded absently. “Yes, you are probably right.”
“You’ve had a lot of trials lately, it seems, my lady. You will feel much better at home with your mother and sisters. I’m sure they missed you greatly.”
Lydia nodded again, dabbing her eyes. Consoling herself, she closed her eyes, telling herself that returning home would be the best thing for her, her heart, and her reputation. A soft knock came to the door. The maid helped Lydia to her feet, helping her to smooth the folds of her dress again. Lydia returned to packing her trunk while the maid answered the door.
“May I have a moment alone with Lady Lydia?” Michael asked.
Lydia looked up, surprised, sniffling. Seeing Michael at the door, she wiped her eyes again, hoping that he would not be able to tell that she had been crying.
“Your Grace, I’m sorry, is that proper?” the maid asked softly.
“Just a few minutes,” he assured her. “You can wait in the corridor if you’d like to keep us honest.”
She nodded, looking down demurely before she stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. Lydia faced Michael, trying to smile.
“You’ve been crying,” he pointed out. He stood awkwardly where he had entered the room, as though he was unsure whether he should come any closer.
Lydia stepped closer to him. “I had hoped that you wouldn’t notice.”
“I’ve never seen you cry,” he said, taking a tentative step forward. “I’ve seen you happy, angry, and frustrated. Never sad. Tell me, what moved you to tears?”
She looked down to the floor, uncomfortable in admitting herself to him. “I have quite enjoyed our time together here,” she said, slowly. “And I am sad to see it end so abruptly.”
“I am as well,” he said, stepping close enough to her that he could reach out and touch her arm. “I am not ready for us to end our fake engagement.”
“I do not see why we need to end it at all,” she rushed. “If we enjoy each other’s company so much, why not continue the engagement? Why not explore the idea that we could actually marry?”
He shook his head. “I am adamant. I made a promise to myself years ago. No woman, not even one as lovely and tempting as you, can endeavor me to break that promise.”
The tears in her eyes started to well again.
“No, no, my dear,” he said, obviously distressed. “Do not cry, I cannot bear it.”
“I do not understand you,” she said softly, shaking her head.
He bent his face down to hers, taking her lips between his own. She responded to his kiss halfheartedly, unable to resist. When he deepened the kiss, pulling her against him, she melted in his hands, softening to his touch. He scooped his hands under her buttocks, pulling her hips against his. Gasping with desire, she wrapped her hands around his neck.
“I would have you here,” he said. “You bewitch me, body and soul.”
“As much as you question your own fortitude, mine is tenfold,” she claimed, snaking her fingers through his hair. She could feel his desire growing for her against her hips, making her ache with passion between her own legs. Yearning for the pleasure he had shown her with his mouth and hands, she wanted that same feeling again.
