Why shouldn’t she be? It was everything she’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of.
Peace. Independence. Freedom. And you really have nowhere else to go...
Though she should be ashamed of herself, really, she thought, charging breathless down the stairs to her office. He had changed his mind, let her stay, because of guilt. All those things she valued, she now had only because he’d hurt her and felt guilty. Had she not found him last night, he would have summarily dismissed her. He’d had the papers already—he’d said as much. And yet she could only feel...
Glad. Relieved. Yes, that is all there is to it. I was frightened and now I am relieved. This has nothing to do with the master. Nothing at all.
Because if it did,thatwould be unforgivable, and an insurmountable problem.
What in God’s name...?
Rebecca was momentarily distracted from the mire of her thoughts by the sight which awaited her in her office. There, neatly placed on her desk, was a large, rather ornate skeleton key.
This day just keeps getting better.
For she had a very good idea what door this key opened.
The East Tower...
She didn’t know who had put it there for her, where they had found it or why they had done this now. What she did know, however, was that it was one door she wasn’t going to open. Already she was on incredibly thin ice.
No chasing ghosts, Rebecca. No good’ll come of it.
Thus resolved, she threw open the desk drawer, dropped in the key and slammed it closed again. Straightening, smoothing her skirts and returning to the proud, collected, unshakeable housekeeper she was, Rebecca made her way to the kitchens, to advise Mrs Murray of His Lordship’s decision regarding the menus.
Menus he didn’t even look at...
Meanwhile, Liam hadn’t moved from the spot he seemed to have rooted to, his eyes fixed on the closed door, and the damned woman’s scent still swirling in the air around him, catching in his nostrils, clouding his mind.
What on earth had he been thinking, allowing her to remain beneath his roof?
The woman was hiding something, by her own admission. Something significant enough to spend a lifetime running from. A husband? A lover? Cruel family? Perhaps she was one of those rogue gentlewomen who fled all manner of dire circumstances by posing as servants or governesses. Or a criminal.
No...
There had been fear in her eyes, a flicker—he’d seen it. Not the fear of discovery, fear of something far more dreadful. That alone should have made him send her away. And yet he hadn’t. To be fair, the womandidhave impeccable references. Every letter bemoaned her departure and sang her praises. And even he, try as he might, could find no fault with her work. Her stubbornness, her insolence and her complete disregard for orders, perhaps. But not her work.
In the short time she’d been at Thornhallow she had performed miracles and endeared herself to everyone she’d met. Perhaps she was a charlatan, slithering her way into hearts and minds the better to trick them into parting with...
With what?
Truly, he was losing his mind. That was it. He was simply going mad. That was why he’d let her stay. His reason had officially abandoned him. The sleepless nights, the torture of returning here, it was stealing away his otherwise infallible mental faculties.
If only that were true...
No, this was because of his heart, not his head. Because he pitied her, felt guilty for what he’d done, ashamed of what she’d seen...
When he had seen the marks he’d made on her, he had barely been able to restrain himself. To stop himself from throwing his fist into a wall or...or what?
Kissing it all away...
Now, where had that thought come from?
From moments ago, when he’d stood so close to her and felt an irresistible pull. A need, stirring deep within. For her. A need to give her pleasure to forget the pain. To trail butterfly kisses along her neck, to quicken the already rapid pulse fluttering there, beneath the creamy skin.
Instinct.
Yes, that was what it had been. Some primal instinct to fix what he’d broken in the same animalistic manner with which he had injured her. Yes, that was all it was. Nothing more.
