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But she knew that she had to try.
* * *
Ken usheredhis guests into the foyer, giving quick instructions to the staff for their immediate comfort.
And then he had the footman called to the library to discuss the safety of everyone in the house. What had happened today had been unacceptable. Mirabelle had been in a house full of men and yet nearly hurt or taken. What that man had in mind, he couldn’t say, but he knew it hadn’t been good.
Once he knew she was safe, he and Ace could start obtaining some answers.
By the time he finished briefing the staff, then speaking with Ace, and finally writing a letter to East to get as much information as he could about the solicitor who’d purchased the Den of Sins, night had fallen and the house had quieted.
Dinner had been brought up to the guests’ rooms and he stared at the untouched tray that had been delivered to him in the library.
Did he even want to eat?
He rubbed his throbbing temples. He should. It had been a long and eventful day.
But he’d hardly been able to give a thought to Mirabelle beyond her safety. Now alone, he thought about earlier in the day before that man, whoever he was, had come to the Smiths’ house.
Her physical well-being was the most important factor, but after that…he needed to give real consideration to the long game he wished to play. That was his strength, as she so wisely pointed out, and that was how he would win her.
Did he give her a season?
He bristled. He’d never been a jealous man before but the idea of watching other men fawn over her sent his hackles rising.
That would be difficult for him. But he certainly could carefully and thoughtfully prove to her what a good husband he could be.
Starting by ensuring her safety, certainly. How else? She needed time and she needed to feel as though she’d won something of great value.
He shifted, but his thoughts were interrupted by a soft tapping on the open library door.
He looked up to see Mirabelle standing in the doorway, soft shadow dancing over her in the flickering candlelight. “Mira.”
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, not moving into the room. “I see you’re deep in thought and you’ve yet to even eat.” She gestured toward the tray.
He waved her forward. “Perhaps you could keep me company while I have my meal.”
She smiled, her shoulders slumping a bit with relief as she moved into the room. “I’d like that very much.”
He reached out his hand and the moment her bare fingers slipped into his, every muscle in his body tightened. The silk of her skin slid against his palm and he wished he could pull her against his body.
But instead, he helped her into the chair next to his. The door was still open and while it wasn’t exactly appropriate for them to be alone like this, he’d try to keep things as acceptable as possible for her sake.
He sat down too, studying her profile as she looked at her hands, fingers fidgeting.
“You’re not eating,” she gently chastised as she looked up from her lap and gave him a soft look that told him she only had his best interest at heart.
“You’ve done this before.”
She laughed, soft and light. “A time or two, perhaps.”
He slid the tray closer, plucking a hunk of bread from plate. “And did you eat your dinner?”
“Enough,” she answered, averting her eyes in a way that told him clearly, she’d barely eaten.
Standing, he slid his chair closer and then sat down again.
She gave him a curious stare, one brow arching up, but he ripped off a hunk of bread and held it out to her. “Let’s eat together.”
