Ester jumped, panic surging through her. For a brief moment, it was as though the darkly handsome Duke before her had become the leering Viscount Kingsley. She could barely believe her own ears. Molly was looking at the floor, hands clasped together as though trying to become invisible. Ester could not find words at first.
“Whatever can you mean?” she demanded.
The Duke did not look belligerent. In fact, he was not looking at her at all now. His blue eyes were fixed on the floor and he actually appeared… shame-faced?
Ester almost forgot she was standing before this man practically naked except for the thick dressing gown. The thick dressing gown that had probably clothed his naked body many times. That thought made her want to cast the garment aside and hug it tightly to her at the same time. She was suddenly acutely aware of her bare feet against the thick carpet. It was all far toointimate. She felt exposed. And both repelled and aroused by that notion.
“I mean that I cannot allow you to leave…just yet,” the Duke muttered, finally raising his eyes to hers, “until you have recovered fully.”
That seemed reasonable, but it was not what he had originally said.
Ester frowned, taking unconscious steps away from him until the tall, wing-backed chair in which she had been sitting was between them. The Duke watched her intently and Ester felt undressed and caressed by those eyes. A most gorgeous sensation that made her knees tremble and sent surges of excitement through her stomach and beyond. She shook her head.
“I am sure that I will not catch a cold if I have not by now. I am dry and warm and unharmed—thanks to you, Your Grace,” she stammered. “My family will be worried about me. They will be expecting me home.”
“Really? And what errand did you tell them you were on this evening with so much gold?” the Duke asked.
Ester could not answer. How did the Duke know she had been carrying gold? Had it not gone with Kingsley’s man?
“How do you know about that?” she demanded.
The Duke turned to Molly.
“Molly, go about your duties please,” he firmly declared.
“No!” Ester cried.
Both turned to look at her sharply. Ester found herself breathing hard, panting almost. Fear gripped her. She could not be alone with this man. Oranyman for that matter. Whether he was her savior or not. Whether he was handsome or not.
“It would not be appropriate for me to be alone with you in a state of undress,” she quickly said.
The Duke looked abashed again, the degree of threat Ester felt from him dropping sharply. He looked like an embarrassed little boy in fact. He lowered his voice, eyes dancing to hers and then away.
“You may not wish my staff to hear all about what happened this evening,” he said, quietly.
Ester was certain of that but more certain that she feared to be alone with him. Feared his intentions.
“Nevertheless, I should like her to stay… Your Grace,” Ester added, fighting to keep her voice level and tears of panic from her eyes.
The Duke nodded. “Very well. Molly, sit over there.”
She hurried to obey and Ester felt a moment's anger on behalf of the servant. It was possible to give instructions and even orders without being rude or perfunctory. A servant was still a human being, after all.
The Duke was taking a seat by the fire, opposite Ester’s chair. He gestured for her to do likewise, revealing his gloves once again. Ester found her eyes drawn to them. When the Duke noticed her observation, he folded them atop his crossed legs, staring at her directly as though challenging her to ask. Ester moved around the chair and resumed her seat, perching on the edge.
“This has been a most curious evening,” the Duke murmured, “I went out for my usual evening ride and foiled a robbery. Then saved a woman from drowning herself. I heard you running along the jetty. Surely, you knew what you were about?”
Ester raised her chin, not wanting to appear to cower before him.
“I was in a state of fear and… yes, no little shame for my predicament. I do not think I knew what I was doing…”
“Do you see though why I might be concerned? For your welfare and that of your soul?” the Duke said. “What if you were to leave here and return to your… original intention? I consider it my duty to prevent that.”
“I can assure you I would not attempt that again,” Ester replied.
“I can notify your family of your whereabouts. Tell them that you are recovering from your ordeal here,” he suggested.
It all sounded perfectly reasonable, but Ester was filled with a crawling horror at the thought of being confined. Of being trapped at the mercy of this man. Whoever he was.
