He nodded. “Will you join me?”
She winced. “I’ve never acquired a taste for it.”
“A glass of wine, then?”
She usually drank tea, but wine would also serve to calm her nerves. She hadn’t imbibed enough of it as they ate their stew.
When the clock chimed the eleven o’clock hour and it had fallen quite dark outside, Simmons appeared. “My lady, shall I close up the house now?”
Rob shut his book and stood up. “I’ll take care of it before I retire. Is there anything I should not overlook?”
“No tricks or secrets to this house, Your Grace. Just make certain the windows and doors on this main floor are locked. I have already taken care of the kitchen and the staff area. Front door is already locked, too.”
“I’ll attend to the rest. Have a good evening, Simmons.”
“You as well, Your Grace.” He then turned to address Fiona and wish her a good evening.
“And you, Simmons,” she replied, nodding to dismiss him.
With her butler now gone, Rob returned to reading his book, his manner casual, as though this was not the night he would undress her and spend it doing all sorts of shameful things with her and to her.
She thought of Shoreham and how he had always approached her.
But Rob was different. He was going to undress her, wasn’t he? Was this not why he had made a show of taking off his clothes and swimming earlier today?
Well, he could have done that simply because he was hot and wanted to swim to cool himself down.
She finished writing the last of the entries in her journal and cleared her throat.
Utter silence from Rob.
She cleared her throat again.
He peered up from his book, one eyebrow arched. “Catching a cold?”
“No, I am fine. I think we ought to close up the house now.”
He smiled. “Yes, m’lady. Why don’t you run up to your bedchamber while I take care of securing the windows and doors?”
She nodded and drank the last droplets of her wine, practically licking her glass clean and debating whether to pour herself another glass for courage.
Honestly, she was behaving like a goose.
And for what? She had been married for almost two decades and knew all about carnal visits. Well, Shoreham was not quite the brash, heat-of-passion sort of fellow. No, indeed. He was best described as a considerate husband.
But Rob?
Panther eyes. Powerful body. It was because ofhimshe was feeling like a fluttering goose.
Were it any other man, she wouldn’t care and be completely relaxed. Of course, were it any other man, she would not be considering doing what she was willing and aching to do with him.
She grabbed her journal and scurried upstairs to her bedchamber, needing to put it under lock and key before anyone found it and read it.
The things she had written about his body, and wanting to do to his body… Utterly naughty. Lustful. Not merely crude, but banned-from-church lewd.
Now, if only she could be so brave in actuality.
She must have been lost in her thoughts longer than she realized, because she had done little more than lock away her journal, begin to unlace her gown, then change her mind and unpin her hair first, intending to brush it out.
