As soon as the thought occurred to her, she dismissed it. It was the product of impulsive thinking, something to break the tension within her. The Duke was as likely to hand her back to her cousins. And she did not know what story they had spun. It could be something that cast her in a bad light. At the moment, the Duke had no reason to believe that he was harboring a fugitive. He might have already sent them away.
“Yes!” she called, moving to the door of the bedchamber to call through the sitting room to the antechamber beyond.
“It is I,” the Duke said from beyond the door. “May I speak with you?”
“Of course,” Gemma said.
Then she realized that she stood in the door to the bedchamber completely naked. Her face turned scarlet, and as the door opened, she tried to cover her nudity with both hands. But, as the Duke stepped into the room, she remembered. Slowly, and fighting every instinct of her body, she straightened from the pose she had fallen into and let her arms fall to her sides. He closed the door behind him and walked through the antechamber’s open inner door, into the Sitting Room, where he stopped.
“I am in here,” Gemma said.
Unerringly, Nathan moved towards the door to the bedchamber. Gemma retreated before him and was about to sit on the bed, but stopped herself. Her heart was pounding and her breathing was shallow. Nathan left the door to the sitting room open, as were the other doors except for the one to the hallway. Perhaps it was to prevent her from feeling trapped. But, he could not know that she was naked before him. Six feet separated them. He could have reached out, leaned forward, and touched her. The idea made her knees weak, and her head spun. She swallowed.
“Your visitors?” she said.
“Will remain for the night. The Baronet of Dunkeswick and his brother, seeking a wayward cousin. For her own protection, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Gemma said faintly, her hands went to her stomach which felt as though it were tying itself in knots.
“It needn’t concern us. I offered a roof out of hospitality. They will be gone in the morning,” the Duke said.
“I was not concerned,” Gemma said.
Now she did sit, tucking her legs beneath her and holding onto one of the posts supporting the canopy above her enormous bed.
“I do not…I do not know why I felt it so important to tell you,” the Duke began. “Only that…it seemed you should know.”
“I thank you for your consideration,” Gemma replied.
The Duke was facing her, turning his head towards the sound of her voice. Gemma was struck with a wild idea. She wanted to rush at him and press his strong hands against her naked, vulnerable body. She wanted to press his face against her breasts, letting him feel the shape of that which he would never see with his eyes. Wanted to feel his lips and his tongue exploring her virginal body.
“Are you quite alright?” the Duke asked. “Your breathing sounds positively ragged. As though you had been running. Do you know these gentlemen?”
Tell him! Tell him! Tell him!
“This cousin they sought. Why do they seek her? Is she a prisoner?” Gemma said, swallowing the almost overwhelming urge to confess all.
Her eyes focused on his face, studying every line. His eyes were pointed at her naked body. She stood and took a step closer to him, feeling his breath upon her skin before she stopped. He tilted his head, nostrils briefly flaring.
“They are protecting her honor from a rogue who seeks to seduce her,” the Duke said softly.
This close, Gemma could see his own excitement. There was color in his cheeks and his lips were parted, breathing shallow and quick.
He senses me close but cannot know I am naked. Oh Lord, this feels so wicked and yet so arousing!
“What will they do when they find her?” Gemma asked, knowing that her words alone told him where she stood.
He was not moving away. Her proximity had excited him and he did not seek to step away, to maintain a proper distance between them. And he had chosen to enter her bedchamber, alone.
“They did not volunteer that. And I did not ask,” he replied.
“Do you trust them?”
“Does it matter?”
Gemma could not answer. For Emily Carlisle, it did not matter. For Gemma Stamford, it did.
“Is your hair still long and dark?” the Duke asked suddenly. “I remember it being the color of night itself and hanging to your shoulders.
