“They’re trusted men here to ensure the safety of the household,” Ridgely explained, frowning. “You needn’t concern yourself with them.”
Not a housebreaker, then. It would have been so much easier for her if he were. But no, he was here, beneath the same roof. Beast was a guard, just as he had claimed. He hadn’t been lying.
She forced her mind to the reason for his presence, concern churning in her belly and tightening into a knot. “This is because of the dead man, then? I thought he was a common housebreaker.”
Her brother sighed, and the weariness of that sound didn’t escape her.
“There is a possibility he was not,” Ridgely allowed. “The guards will remain until I deem them no longer necessary, for the safety of everyone within Hunt House.”
Good God.
She felt all the anger drain away.
“I don’t like the sound of this, Ridgely. What are you not telling me?”
Her brother smiled, but she couldn’t help but think it false. She knew him too well to believe it.
“Nothing, my dear,” he said. “I am merely being excessively cautious. Now, will that be all?”
He was dismissing her.
“I do hope they will be sleeping in the stables,” she added, thinking again of Beast wandering the halls beyond her chamber door. Laying his head upon a pillow in a guest room.
Ridgely sighed again. “Thank you for your concern, sister. I’ll take it into consideration.”
Pamela supposed she had pushed him far enough for now.
Reluctantly, she dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you. But be warned, brother. I meant what I said about Lady Virtue. If you compromise her any further, you’ll have to marry her.”
She took her leave, unable to banish thoughts of the man who had come upon her in the salon from her mind. Hopefully, this dreadful business would be over quickly, and Beast would be nothing more than a forgotten memory all too soon.
* * *
As usual,Pamela couldn’t sleep.
Only, this time as she lay in bed, staring into the murky shadows playing across the plasterwork above her, it wasn’t loneliness plaguing her or the dreams and regrets that haunted her sleep. It wasn’t sorrow or bittersweet remembrances.
No, much to her shame, it was thoughts of the guard her brother had hired.
“Beast,” she whispered the name aloud, still thinking it an unlikely appellation for a man. Surely not his Christian name.
Who was he? Where had Ridgely found him? And why had he invaded her mind, inhabiting it as if he belonged there, leaving his indelible mark upon her as surely as a touch? What was it about him that had filled her with an inexplicable yearning?
He was handsome, yes. Dark-haired, mysterious-eyed. He was tall and lean, and yet he had exuded an aura of strength and power. He had prowled like his namesake, a beast of prey.
And she hadn’t been able to keep her thoughts from straying, wondering what it would be like to be possessed by such a man. By a man who was all complexity and sharp angles, coldness and violence encased in the trappings of a gentleman.
Byhim.
Her body stirred, a restless ache blossoming between her thighs as she lay alone, fingers clenched on the counterpane, desperate to lull herself to sleep. How very wrong it was. And although she was alone, the darkness pressing around her like heavy weights threatening to drown, no one else aware of her wanton yearnings, her cheeks went hot.
What was wrong with her?
How could she tarnish Bertie’s memory and the love they had shared by feeling such base lust for someone else? And worse, for someone to whom she hadn’t even been properly introduced. A man of questionable origin and family, one who called himself Beast and regarded her so boldly that she had felt, for a fleeting moment, as if she hadn’t been wearing an afternoon gown at all when that hazel stare had swept over her.
With a sigh, she rolled to her belly, struggling to find a comfortable position. Perhaps she should have taken a posset as her lady’s maid had kindly suggested, noting her state of unease earlier. But she hadn’t, for she had forced herself to rely less and less upon such measures, fearing herself too dependent upon them. No, instead, she must lay here in misery, thinking of—
A scrape sounded in the hall beyond her chamber, cutting through the chatter of her own roiling musings. She lifted her head, listening, holding her breath. Perhaps she had imagined the sound.
