Ester jumped, and then managed a shaky, “Please come in.”
The door opened and Molly came in first, looking down and stepping aside for a tall, broad-shouldered man. Ester found herself gaping, then forced her mouth shut with a snap.
It was the face from her dream.
Black hair tumbled in an unruly mane to his shoulders. Blue eyes stared piercingly at her. A cruel mouth was set and unmovable. Strong jaw and high, slanted cheeks. He was the most exotically handsome man she had ever seen. The images from her dream cascaded through her mind like a waterfall. His lips on hers, sharing the breath of life with her. His body against hers. Inside hers. She was blushing and hoped he assumed the rosy glow came from the fire.
Ester clutched her dressing gown and blanket close to her like a shield.
“I am Julian Barrington, 14th Duke of Windermere. I’m afraid Molly didn’t tell me your name,” the Duke said, frowning fiercely at Molly as though it was her failing.
Ester found herself rallying to the defense of the timid maid.
“That is because I did not give it. Do not blame Molly,” she hastily put in, in a voice that only shook a little.
“I did not intend to,” the Duke declared, formally.
“Forgive me, you seemed… angry,” Ester continued.
When those icy blue eyes were fixed on hers, all reason went out of her head. She wondered where she had conjured the image of him from. What magic was at work here that she should dream of him so completely. Had she really taken in so much of his face when he had pulled her from the water?
“I was not,” he said, stiffly. “May I know your name?”
Ester blushed again, realizing how rude she must seem. But as she was about to give her name, she stopped. Her reason for being abroad in the dead of night was to spare her family from scandal. What use if she then used her real name?
“Emily Granger,” she lied.
“Do I detect the accent of the north?” the Duke asked with a flicker of interest on his face.
“You are familiar with the north?” Ester asked.
“I was born in the Lake District and spent much of my youth in Cumbria,” the Duke replied.
Ester found herself smiling. “I, too, have visited the Lakes many times. I am from…”
She was about to name her father’s estate near Chester but stopped herself again. The reason the family had moved from one end of England to the other was to escape the scandal. Telling the Duke that she was from Chester would risk exposing the secret they were trying to keep just as surely as giving her true name. Perhaps word had gotten out of a scandal in Chester involving a prominent family, even if the name was not known?
“…York,” Ester finished.
She had been to York once, visiting a friend of her mothers who had married an earl with estates near that city.
“A fine place. I lived there for a time before my father died.”
Ester’s heart sank and she hoped he would not wish to discuss the place in any detail. It was then that she noticed an odd detail. The Duke was wearing black leather gloves. The dream came back to her again. Specifically, the feel of those gloves against her skin beneath the water.
She felt her heart hammer against her chest, and her breathing quickened. The memory conjured images of the Duke naked, his body close to hers.
His eyes followed hers to his gloved hands. Slowly, he placed them behind his back and out of her sight. That made Esterblush even more. He paced the room, keeping his hands hidden from her sight.
“I believe I have you to thank for saving me,” Ester said.
“I dragged you out of the water, yes.”
“I do thank you most sincerely, and I am sure my father will too. He and my mother will be worried sick, I really mustn’t intrude on your hospitality any longer,” she finished in a rush.
“Nonsense, Miss Granger,” he said, somberly, “there is nowhere that you can go. I cannot allow you to leave.”
CHAPTER FIVE
