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“Perhaps I am misreading his intentions,” she muttered.
With a sigh, she left the study and hastened up the winding staircase. The hallway there was dark with no wall sconce to provide a measure of sight. The silence of the townhouse whispered over her as she strolled along the corridor, gently testing each door she encountered. A dark spurt of mirth went through her. She felt like a spider, crawling close to the wall and running her hand along it. Whenever she felt a door, she tested the handle. At least three opened, and she used the chill that permeated the air to determine it was not the master bedroom. The servants would have his room warm and welcoming for whenever he returned. Those rooms had not seen an occupant in a while. The fourth door she tested opened easily, and she faltered.
This was the earl’s room.
And she had not known it was his by the low fire in the grate. That barely provided any light, and the room was more in darkness and shadows. It was his scent. It lingered in the room, bringing violently to life that one wicked occasion she had felt such pleasure in his arms. Inhaling deeply, she entered the room and closed the door behind her.
It was then she noted there was enough moonlight filtering in through the parted drapes to reveal the layout of the room. A large four-poster bed rested in the middle, two elegantly carved winged-back chairs were by the hearth with a small table between them. On that small table was a chess set. For a wild moment, she wondered who the earl had in his bedchamber that he played with. Brushing aside the ridiculous surge of jealously, she padded over to the armoire. She would check his jackets or valise. Ethan would have possibly kept the letters in there, considering his study had not revealed any clue.
“This utter recklessness is why you need to marry,” a chilling voice said from behind her. “You clearly need a gentleman to take you firmly in hand.”
Stifling a shriek, Charity whirled around to see Ethan standing behind her, dressed in a silken blue banyan, looking wonderfully appealing even if a bit stern.
“I am not a horse that needs to be taken in hand, but a woman who knows her own mind.”
He regarded her with hooded eyes and an unreadable expression.
“I did not think you were home,” she said, feeling a bit weak-kneed. “Or else I would never have…” she waved her hand at her room in an encompassing gesture.
“I was having a quiet moment at home,” he drawled.
Something in the way he said it had her glancing back at the bed. She stared at the lumpy outline on his bed, which indicated someone slept there. Her chest drew tight, and her heart squeezed so painfully it was a wonder she could push the words out. “Do you have a woman here?” Still, the came out as a raw whisper.
“If I do?” he asked in a dangerous tone.
“I would likely skewer you,” she said, just as dangerously.
“What allows you to even dare ask me this, Lady Charity? Were you not only a few days ago dancing with a viscount at a ball?”
“Are you jealous?” she blurted incredulously without taking the time to approach the conversation with tact.
“Did you not feel the same emotion when you looked at my rumpled bed just now?”
“A dance with a gentleman and you taking another lover are entirely different matters,” she said with narrowed eyes.
He took a few steps further. “Are they?”
“Yes, a dance might call for an arched brow of censure or query at best. A lover most assuredly calls for murder and mayhem.”
“Murder and mayhem?” his mouth twitched. “I never knew you to be this bloodthirsty. I shall keep it in mind.”
“Are you laughing at me, my lord?”
“I will admit to being slightly amused. Only slightly,” he replied with soft menace.
The air felt fraught with peril, and with a tempest brewing in her breast, she said, “Do you have a sleeping lady here, my lord.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face and muttered, “Bloody hell. No, there is no woman, nor was there any. It is simply my pillow.”
Yet it was positioned to look as if someone slept and—
Her thoughts careened and sharply crashed. “You were watching me this whole time search your room!”
“A part of me anticipated your presence. Another part thought surely that Lady Charity would not dare be so frivolous with her reputation. You are clearly accomplished at breaking into gentlemen’s houses. Have you no notion of propriety at all?”
“Of course,” she said frostily.
He tossed her a disbelieving glance.
