“Nothing? Look at you. Where the hell have you been?”
“Your favorite place, no doubt.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, go away. I’m not in the best temper, and I don’t want conversation. I want a bath.”
“I’ll call for one.” He strode forward, intent on entering her bedchamber.
“You stay right there! I can operate a bellpull myself.”
Mr. Lioncroft paused. He leaned back against the wall, his demeanor not quite as relaxed as before. “All right.”
Evangeline’s hand fell from the doorknob. “What are you doing?”
“Staying here.”
“I said go away!”
“You also said to stay right here,” he pointed out reasonably. “I chose to follow the latter directive.”
“I meant ‘go away’ both times.” She glared at him. He didn’t move. “Why were you lurking in the shadows?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to make sure you were all right. You frightened me.”
“Well, you can’t just—Oh. That’s very kind of you. I frightened me, too. But I’m fine now, so you can—”
“You don’t look fine. You look…dirty.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Lioncroft. That’s why I’m calling for a bath.”
“And call me Gavin.” When she made no effort to do so, he just grinned. “Are you going back to bed?”
“Not if you plan to sneak in and smother me.”
Evangeline regretted the snappish words the moment they flew from her lips.
Mr. Lioncroft, however, seemed neither stung nor perturbed by her waspishness. Because he was guilty? Or because he was simply accustomed to being presumed as much, and expected no preferential treatment from her?
She opened her mouth—to say what, exactly, she didn’t know—but in one smooth step, he stood between her and the safety of her bedchamber.
“I’m here because I was worried about you, Miss Pemberton. And because I’m attracted to you.”
“I—” The protest caught in her throat as his dark gaze burned into hers.
“As to your imminent death…Did you see me smother anyone?”
She backed up a step. “I wasn’t there.”
“Did God tell you I smothered Heatherbrook before He sent you that attack?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The Lord didn’t send me an attack.”
“What did happen, Miss Pemberton?” He studied her face as if he’d spent the better part of two hours trying to solve that particular riddle.
“Nothing happened. Much.” She glanced down both sides of the deserted corridor. “I truly don’t wish to talk about this.”
“No? Or not out here? I’ll gladly follow you into your chamber.”
