Rafferty was somewhere down below, not giving one good goddam about her—or maybe he was asleep in that bed, not even dreaming of her. She had to face facts—he didn’t really care about her at all, no matter how much she adored him. Oh, she was one of his responsibilities, and as such, he should look after her, but she was nothing beyond that. She might as well be Norah for all he cared.
The dismal truth was, there was no happy ending for Rafferty and her, and the sooner she accepted that fact, the better off she’d be.
Which left her with Andrew Salton. Clearly, he didn’t have the money to rescue them from their folly, but he had enough to prove to be a respectable husband. She didn’t want him, no matter how charming he was. If she couldn’t have Rafferty, she didn’t want anyone. Not even to save her family.
She heard the creak on the stairs, and she froze. For a moment, she was tempted to get up and hide behind one of the many chimneys, but she stayed where she was. No one in her family would bother with making their way to the roof, which left only one possibility. Rafferty.
If he was startled to see her sitting there, he didn’t show it. He closed the door quietly behind him and stepped out into the moonlight, and she belatedly remembered she was wearing her nightdress. He’d seen her in it often enough, but she pulled her shawl closer around her as she watched him from her perch.
“What are you doing up here?” His voice was low on the night air, and she wanted to shiver. She loved his voice, the deep tones, the warmth.
“I like it up here. I come up when I need to be alone, to think.”
“Do you want me to go away?”
“No.” She kept her own voice level. “Why are you up here?”
“You left the door to the servants’ floor open. It’s my duty to see the house is secure.”
“Your duty,” she scoffed, disappointed. He hadn’t come looking for her after all.
“Don’t you want me to do my duty? I’m your protégé after all.”
“You said you were leaving.” She couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.
“I am,” he said reluctantly. “Though I don’t know when. Your family is in a mess—I can’t abandon you while the wolf is at the door.”
“What wolf?” But she knew. It wasn’t poverty or starvation, it was Mr. Stiles with all the teeth and that smile that chilled her to the bone. Somehow, they’d gotten his attention, she’d gotten his attention, and they were no longer safe.
“You don’t need to worry about it,” Rafferty said, moving closer, the moonlight sending a long shadow behind him. “May I sit?”
She ignored the little thrill of pleasure. “If you want to,” she said coolly.
“I want to.” He dropped down on the flat roof next to her, so close she could put out her hand and touch him. “What are you thinking about? Andrew Salton?” He sounded disgruntled, which pleased her.
“Maybe.”
He said nothing and she wanted to kick him. “Are you going to marry him?” The words came out of the blue, and she stared at him, astonished.
“Why do you ask?”
“It would get you out of this house. It would be a safe future for you.”
She wanted to cry. “I’m not looking for a safe future,” she said stiffly. “And I don’t think it’s any of your business who I marry. In fact, I’m thinking I might be an old maid, with lots of cats.”
His laugh was as soft as the night breeze. “That won’t happen. Someone will sweep you off your feet. If it isn’t Andrew Salton, then it will be someone else.”
“I’m not marrying anyone if I can’t—” she stopped herself before the damning words got out.
But she shouldn’t have underestimated him. “Georgie,” he said gently. “I’m not for the likes of you.”
“Who said you were?” she shot back.
“You did.”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She could be proud of the firmness in her voice.
“Good to hear,” he said softly.
