And he definitely shouldnotbe attempting to reach under her skirts. Christ, what was wrong with him? It didn’t matter if she was welcoming him, or that his blood was singing and his pulse thrashing—Leo was far too important to him to treat with such frenzied lust.
“You’re right,” she said after a protracted moment, during which Jasper nearly wondered if she would say something different, if she might ask him to stay. Had she, he wasn’t sure he would’ve had the strength to tell her no.
Leo’s fingers lowered from his scalp, and her hand lightened, then lifted, from his. He eased her from the edge of the desk down to the floor. Her flushed cheeks and lips, and the abraded skin of her neck threatened to undo him. Gingerly, she touched her chin. The friction of his beard had chafed it as well.
He laughed shyly. “Sorry about that. I will shave, if you prefer.”
Leo reached for his cheek and scrubbed her fingers through his bristle. “Don’t you dare. I like it.”
It took everything honorable in him not to pull her back into another kiss. She slowly retracted her hand, then checked the placement of her hairpins as she walked toward the door. After peering into the corridor, she pulled her head back in.
“It is clear,” she announced, her blush still high.
His muscles were tight, and evidence of his desire alarmingly close to being noticeable, as he met her at the door. “Goodnight, then.”
He lingered only a moment before leaving. As he took long strides down the shadowy corridor, back toward the grand staircase, he rubbed his lower lip and the lingering sensation of Leo’s tongue drawing along it. Sleep would not come easily tonight.
At the top of the central staircase, one could turn left or right down wide corridors leading to different wings of the manor. There were also two slim corridors edging the balustrade that overlooked the grand entrance hall. Down one of these corridors was the billiards room. The door was open, spilling out lamplight. Two voices sounded from within. The first, belonging to a man, was angry and loud. The second belonged to a woman, who sounded frightened. Her small figure emerged onto the landing, her hands clasped together in a sort of pleading gesture.
“Please, I didn’t mean no harm.” It appeared to be a young maid. Jasper retreated a step, pulling himself behind a corner,then peeked around the edge. Frederick Cowper came out after her, still in his dark red dinner jacket, and billiard cue in his hand.
“You would do well to mind your own business,” he said through what sounded like clenched teeth. “That is, if you would like to keep your position here.”
“Of course, I do, sir. I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” The maid bobbed her head and curtseyed skittishly before hurrying toward where Jasper stood. He pulled back out of sight, and to his relief, the maid continued swiftly down the stairs, stifling her sobs.
He gave Frederick several more seconds to return to the billiards room. When Jasper heard the door click shut, he exhaled. Whatever that had been about, the heir to the viscountcy had not been nearly as pleasant toward the maid as he’d been toward his guests at dinner. Jasper wasn’t curious enough to find out what the maid had done wrong. All he wanted was to question Helen Dalton in the morning, then take Leo and leave this bloody house for good.
Leo drew back the heavy velvet drapes in her room before going to bed. Should the rain and wind pull away during the night, she wanted the morning sun to wake her as quickly as possible so that she and Jasper could speak to Helen, then depart for the train station. As she lay in bed after changing into the nightdress the maid had laid out for her, Leo listened as the storm relinquished its wrath. Her body, however, still felt as though she’d been caught in a whirlwind.
Her skin felt tight and sensitive underneath the linen nightdress, and her chin was lightly scuffed from Jasper’s newbeard. Her breathing was still off-kilter, and when her fingers drifted over the column of her neck where Jasper’s teeth had gently nipped, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to indulge in thoughts of him. Of course, she had indulged in these thoughts before but never had the reality of them been as close as when he’d been kissing her on that desk.
She wasn’t disappointed he’d pulled away—at least, not entirely. Leo knew well enough that she wasn’t ready for what might have unfolded had they not come to their senses. But that didn’t mean she disliked imagining it.
Surprisingly, sleep claimed her quickly, and she didn’t wake to the rising sun as she’d planned. Instead, a woman’s timid voice pulled her to consciousness.
“Miss? Ever forgive me, miss, but I’ve come to wake you.”
Leo lifted her head from the pillow and met the maid, Ursula, with a sleep-fogged frown. “Oh. Hello.”
She wasn’t accustomed to waking up to people hovering by her bedside. The young maid wore a fraught expression as she scurried from the bedside toward Leo’s garments, which were draped over an upholstered bench.
“I was supposed to come last night to help you undress,” she said as she picked up the dark purple jacket and held it up for inspection. “I’m so sorry, miss. Mrs. Renwick will have my head on a pike if she finds out that I didn’t come.”
Leo sat up and reluctantly ceded the sumptuous cushion of the mattress and down blanket. Hot baths and cozy, plush beds were the only things she would miss about Cowper Hall.
“I did not mind, Ursula. As I’ve never had a maid, I didn’t miss the help,” she said. Though, she was curious as to why the maid had not come, especially as she seemed so distraught and guilty for it now.
“You won’t tell Mrs. Renwick?” she asked, looking back at Leo with a genuine glimmer of tears in her eyes.
“You have my word,” she promised and then rose from the bed. Outside, the sunlight was fickle, but at least the rain and wind had ceased.
“Oh, thank you ever so much, miss,” the maid replied with a gusty exhale of relief. She rushed forward with Leo’s chemise and bloomers in her arms. “I’ve been told you’re expecting Mrs. Dalton for breakfast.”
Leo checked the clock in the corner of the room. It was just past seven now.
“I can dress myself, truly,” she said.
But Ursula, likely feeling remiss in her duties, shook her head. “I’ll hand your things over the screen, miss, if you prefer.”
