That she wouldwantto.
Felix’s face rose in her mind, handsome and concerned. Tugging at her tender heart in ways she could not afford to allow.
She cast a glance about the room once more, taking in the sleekly polished wardrobe, the large bed with its intricately carved headboard and posts. Oh, how she wished the chamber had not once housed a former lover of his. She had no right to feel envious or jealous of a paramour from his past, and she knew it. She had no hold on him. No right to him, and she never would.
And yet…
Some part of her felt, quite foolishly, as though she did.
“Ma’am,” prompted Owens. “Shall I sort everything for you and then inform you of their location when I am finished?”
Bless the woman for seeing how overwhelmed she felt by everything that had happened in the last few days.
“Yes,” she agreed, summoning up a smile. “That would be wonderful, Owens, thank you. I believe I will go in search of Lady Verity while you work. Excuse me.”
She left the chamber behind and did not have far to roam. She descended one floor and was instantly treated to the sound of delighted girlish giggles, followed by hastily approaching footsteps.
Two sets, unless she missed her guess. One large, one small.
She rounded a bend in time to find Verity being chased down the hall by the Duke of Winchelsea, her curls fluttering about her angelic face. Father and daughter were both smiling.
“You will never catch me!” vowed his daughter.
“I shall catch you if it is the last action I take,” he called in a mock stern voice.
Johanna froze, mesmerized by the sight of father and daughter at play. Of the so oft serious and elegant Duke of Winchelsea racing down the hall after his daughter. Of the matching smiles they wore. The laughter.
Their lightheartedness and the moment itself melted the ice in her heart.
Emotion slammed into her with such force she almost lost her balance and toppled over. As it was, she scarcely had time to prepare herself when Verity made her way to Johanna and launched her little body unexpectedly into her arms.
“Save me from the evil Papa dragon,” cried the little girl, giggling.
Johanna clutched Verity to her tightly, relishing the embrace. How much she had missed when she had lost Pearl. The thought left her feeling the same old ache, along with something else. Something new.
“I will save you, fair maiden,” she promised, playing along with the game past the lump in her throat as Felix reached them.
He stopped, near enough to touch. So near the scent of sandalwood wafted over her. His countenance changed as their gazes met and held.
“Miss McKenna,” he greeted her formally.
For his daughter’s benefit, she guessed, clinging to that same indifference. Trying to forget the way he had kissed her and touched her. The way he had brought her such pleasure.
But,dear Lord, how could she ever forget that? It was a sheer impossibility.
“Your Grace,” she returned, making her best attempt at a curtsy while she held his still-giggling daughter in her arms. “I had not realized you had returned.”
The moment she said the words, she wished she could take them back, for she was making a revelation she had no wish to make: that she had noted his absence. That she had been wondering where he had gone and when he would return.
Which of course, she had.
In spite of her every instinct to keep her distance from him and not to allow herself to become emotionally attached to him in any way, she could not deny the feelings he incited deep within her. Hated feelings. Unwanted feelings.
Lingering beneath the surface of every moment.
“I was seeing to some matters of mutual concern,” he told her then, his tone somber. All the levity had leached from his handsome face.
And she knew the reason for it. Knew, too, what he spoke of. Her heart clenched painfully. He had spoken with Scotland Yard on her behalf, it would seem. She had no notion of whether the news was good or grim from his expression.
