“Drat.” Turning back to Haddon and the fawning Lady Christina, Marissa struggled to free herself, unwilling to be caught in such a ridiculous predicament.
Eyes narrowing, she took in the giggling Lady Christina as she tugged at her leg. HowcouldLady Stanton allow her daughter to throw herself at Haddon in such a way? It wasshamefulbehavior. Sparing a glance at her trapped foot, Marissa tried to be discreet. She didn’t wish to attract attention nor distract the bumbling footman and her driver. Imagine the fun the gossips would have if Marissa’s hair dye flew from the top to splatter against the cobblestones.
I should have insisted on a more seasoned footman.
The entire day was bound to end in disaster if she didn’t manage to get herself out of the present situation.
Good Lord. Lady Stanton must take hold of her daughter. There is not an inch between the girl and Haddon.
“My lady!”
Marissa looked up at the footman’s horrified exclamation. The stack of boxes he’d been trying to lash down burst free because he wasn’t securing them correctly. Her eyes remained fixed on the box from Mr. Coventry’s, praying the glass containers inside wouldn’t break, shocked when it flew right at her. The rest of the boxes followed, knocking her to the ground.
Death by hair dye. I should never have listened to Adelia.
Then everything went dark.
19
“Marissa.”
Haddon whispered her name as he lay next to her, naked, his large hand drawing circles against the bare skin of her stomach. He smelled so good. Like the spices her cook used when making those small cakes Marissa liked with her tea. Was it ginger?
She giggled at the thought of Haddon smelling like a cookie one had with tea.
Wanting to touch him, Marissa found it a struggle to lift even so much as her finger. Her entire body felt boneless. Sated. Haddon must have made love to her, but she couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered. It was just as pleasurable having him beside her, speaking of nothing yet everything.
“She’s twisted her ankle a bit, but it isn’t serious and there’s a small bump on her head. A little rest and her ladyship should recover. I gave her something for the pain.”
Marissa pushed aside the authoritative voice. She was stroking the side of Haddon’s cheek wanting to tell him how he filled her heart. How stupid she’d been to send him away after they’d made love in her parlor. What lay between them wasn’t meaningless. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. And it was exhausting pretending she didn’t want him. Marissa didn’t want to do it anymore. She wasn’t a coward. Taking his hand, she pressed it to her breast. “You are not a dalliance.”
“I know.” He didn’t sound convinced.
“We are not a dalliance.” It was very important he understand.
“My lady, can you open your eyes?”
No.Her eyelids were weighed down. Heavy. It would be an enormous effort to open her eyes or move at all. She was so comfortable. Warm. Almost like floating in a bath. Besides, if she opened her eyes, Haddon might disappear.
“I’m not a coward.”
“I know. Wake up, Marissa.” Haddon sounded very insistent.
Finally, she managed to push her eyelids open.
Marissa was in a bed, with Haddon sitting next to her, far too close for propriety’s sake, and holding her hand but thankfullynother breast.
I was dreaming.
Haddon’s silver eyes were filled with worry. What was he concerned about?
Me.“Are you worried about me?” a raspy whisper asked as her heart fluttered in her chest. She would do anything to have him keep looking at her in such a way.
“Yes.” His voice sounded strained but she saw a hint of the mischievous smile he so often wore tugging at his lips.
Marissa struggled against the pillows, trying to sit up, but the pain in her temple made her fall back. “My ankle hurts.” She blinked at Haddon as her fingers curled more firmly around his. “I’m thirsty.”
“If you’ve no further need of me, my lord—”
