His other hand slid beneath her buttoned spencer to cup her breast, his thumb unerringly finding her stiff nipple. She gasped, arching into him. He rubbed his stubble against her neck, rolling the tender bud between his thumb and forefinger. Plucking and pulling.
“Promise me,” he whispered against her skin.
She swallowed hard, unable to chase the rising tide of desire. He knew how to make her weaken with scarcely any effort at all.
“I promise,” she relented at last.
But the moment he’d wrangled the promise from her lips, he straightened to his full height, his hands leaving her bereft as they left her body. “Finally. I thought you would make me wait forever.”
If only she possessed that much restraint where he was concerned. Or any at all.
“Stay here,” he added sternly, and then he turned away, rushing into the slashing rain as she stared helplessly at his tall, broad form disappearing into the garden hedges.
The instinct to chase after him was strong, but she was nothing if not a woman of her word, and even if he had seduced the promise from her, she had made it. Trying to gather her wits and her composure both, Pamela remained where she was, leaning against the stone wall, awaiting Theo’s return.
Somehow, she was not surprised to find him dashing back moments later, bearing her abandoned basket and thoroughly sodden.
“You didn’t need to go into the rain to fetch my basket,” she protested.
“If I hadn’t, you would have done so,” he said.
And he was not wrong.
“Perhaps,” she allowed, reaching for the basket. “Thank you.”
“I’ll carry it,” he said. “Come with me. We’ll use the tunnels leading from the gardens to keep you dry.”
He didn’t wait for her response, simply strode past her toward one of several large doors on this side of the edifice. It startled Pamela to realize Theo knew the passages which ran below Hunt House better than she did. But then, she supposed it should hardly come as a surprise. She had a distinct suspicion that the darkened halls within weren’t the only thing this mysterious man knew better than she did.
Bemused, she trailed in his wake, following him to the door and stepping past him, into the coolness of the stone passage. He joined her inside, the door shutting and quieting the rain outside. A row of high, arched windows brought faint light into the musty-smelling corridor, illuminating the passage enough for her to watch Theo bar the door they had entered and make certain it was secured. He must have entered the garden through it, she realized.
He turned to her, still holding her wet basket over his arm. Sprigs of rosemary and thyme protruded from one corner, his hair was slicked down his forehead, he was soaked from the rain, and there was no reason why he should be so unfairly beautiful standing there before her.
And yet, he was.
“Do you know your way, or shall I guide you to the main hall?” he asked, having no notion of the reckless thoughts flying through her addled mind.
Which was just as well. She didn’t understand them herself.
“Perhaps you could guide me,” she managed.
Eschewing the servant halls, he guided her deftly through the passageways until they reached a stairway that led to a small, hidden door in the entrance hall. She had traveled the halls before, of course, but it had been many years since she had done so with the abandon of a young woman eager to explore.
“Here you are, my lady,” he said, offering her the basket as he stood before the door. “I’ll take the passages to the servants’ quarters.”
She accepted the basket, so many emotions fluttering inside her, like the wings of frantic butterflies. “Thank you.”
Pamela wanted to say more. Longed to, in fact. But in the end, she knew it wasn’t wise. Instead, she skirted him, reaching for the latch on the door.
“Lady Deering?” he called out, staying her.
She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding him watching her in the shadows, wet and handsome and mysterious.
“I owe you your answer,” he said. “Everything. Last night meant everything to me, and that’s why it mustn’t happen again.”
He bowed, and then hastily took his leave, disappearing into the darkness.
For a long time after he had gone, Pamela stood there, looking into the empty space where he had been, wishing she’d had the courage to chase after him. Knowing he had been right.
