Frustration punctuated his mood as he slammed the door shut. Just as quickly, he masked the anger. “When the driver returns, we’ll go back to Falkirk, and I’ll make arrangements for your belongings to be brought there. You may stay in one of the guest rooms until I’ve located your brother.”
He was treating her like a lost dog, separated from its master. She resented his insinuation that Daniel was incapable of being head of the family. Her brother was doing everything he could to restore their fortunes. And were it not for the shadow of scandal over her family name, she might have tried to find a husband to relieve Daniel’s burden of supporting her.
Who would marry a woman like you?her common sense argued.You don’t even know how a baron’s daughter is supposed to behave in society. You’ve never been to a single ball.
“Don’t trouble yourself about me,” she told the earl. “Daniel will be returning here, soon enough. He asked me to look after the estate.”
“This is unacceptable. He was irresponsible to ask such a thing of you.” His tone was clipped and revealed his fury at her brother.
“I did what I could, with what little money he left me.” Her own mood was growing waspish. Whitmore wasn’t behaving like a prince rescuing her from drudgery—he was bullying her into leaving her home behind while he took command of her life.
Squaring her shoulders, she faced him down. “I’m staying right here.”
“Your brother never should have left you here with no servants.”
“Daniel doesn’t know.” The confession escaped her before she could stop the words.
Whitmore walked closer to her, his intense scrutiny unreadable. Emily felt rather like a deer cornered by a wolf. In the shadowed darkness, he caught her wrist gently. “What do you mean, he doesn't know?”
“I had to dismiss the servants. There wasn’t enough money to pay them.”
His gaze widened with horror. “It’s dangerous for a woman to live alone.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I enjoy living in this place, wondering whether or not I’ll get any money from Daniel to pay for food? I’ve sold off everything I could. But I just…don’t know what to do now. If our circumstances don’t improve, I’ll hire myself out as a cook.” She couldn’t become a governess, for her education wasn’t nearly good enough.
Stephen removed one glove and brought his hand up to touch her face. The warmth of his palm, the gentle caress, made her legs go weak. His other arm came around her waist, and despite the snow, she didn’t feel cold at all.
“You should let someone else take care of you,” he murmured.
In shock, she stood motionless while his hands traced her jaw, moving down her throat. He parted the edges of her cloak, and with each touch, he rekindled the memories.
Unwanted feelings welled up inside her. Every cell in her body was attuned to him, as though he were still the same boy in the stable. But that couldn’t be true. Not after all these years.
“You’re not responsible for me,” she managed.
Though she tried to break free of him, his hands caught the edges of the floral shawl she’d cut from the sofa. “This is a hideous wrap.”
“Have you a better one I could borrow?” she shot back.
A faint smile caught the corner of his mouth. “I might.” He removed his coat and set it across her shoulders. She could feel the warmth of his body, and his spicy scent surrounded her.
“You’re—you’re going to be cold without it,” she warned.
His gray eyes were unfathomable, and his hands moved to her waist. She wanted to run from him, to gather up the pieces of her traitorous heart and try not to remember all the reasons she’d loved him so many years ago.
“You’re even more beautiful than I’d remembered,” he said. With his knuckles, he grazed her temples, taking her face into his hands.
“We haven’t seen each other in a long time.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her heart trembling in her chest.
“Too long.” His mouth moved to her throat, gently kissing the bared skin. With the touch of his lips on her nape, her body rose up, straining for something she couldn’t understand. When at last his mouth covered hers, heat flared through her body. This wasn’t an adolescent kiss or a tangle of inexperienced mouths. No, he conquered her mouth in a way that brought back every unrequited feeling.
Desire and need poured over her, and her skin ached to know more, her body awakening in ways she’d never expected. Gooseflesh rose on her arms, her breasts tightening against her gown.
She kissed him back, tentatively learning the shape of his mouth. He reacted with a slight jerk of motion, as though she’d startled him. His tongue moved against hers, sending an unfamiliar ache between her legs. She shifted restlessly, caught up in the forbidden moment. Without thinking, she released the feelings she’d held trapped for the past ten years. The kiss turned hotter, hungrier.
The change in Stephen was immediate. He brought her up against the wall, trapping her in his embrace. His kiss grew more insistent, while his hands moved over the thin tarlatan gown, making her imagine all the wicked things a man might do to a woman. He drew her lower lip into his mouth, tasting her as though she were a delicious confection.
“I’d forgotten what it was like,” he murmured against her face, even as his hands poised at the buttons of her gown. When he realized where his hands were, he took a step back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
