At the mere thought of seeing her again, away from the prying eyes of theton, his heart raced.
God help him, but his attraction to this woman knew no bounds.
Sun drenched the drawing room, allowing him to drink her beauty in unimpeded.
“Justin?” She rose as he entered. “Lord Carlisle?”
She looked pale, tired even, but not overly distraught. At a sudden loss for words, he bowed low but refused to refer to her formally. “Rhododendron.” His mouth twisted into a smile at her exasperated expression.
“I…” She trailed off. “Won’t you sit down? You are out of breath. Did yourunhere?”
“I needed to make sure you were all right.” Hopefully, her calm demeanor indicated her lack of involvement with whatever befell Lord Kensington and not something else.
“Why would I not be all right?” She seemed only a little confused. “What have you heard?”
Those eyes of hers. He wanted them to smile at him again. He wanted them to gaze at him with passion-filled longing. He swallowed hard.
“You have heard the news, have you not?” At her blank stare, he continued, “About Lord Kensington.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Lord Kensington is a worthless toad. He’s not worth the space he takes up on this earth.”
This comment surprised him.
She hadn’t heard, then.
“He’ll not be taking space—above ground, anyhow—for much longer. He was found dead this morning.”
All the blood seemed to drain from her lovely complexion. No pink, no hint of cream. “How? What happened? Was it another duel?”
He was impressed that she didn’t show any sort of glee at his demise. The bastard had done his fair share to discredit both her and her friend, Mrs. Nottingham.
“Dead. Found in the Crabtrees’ fountain early this morning.”
He’d not thought it possible, but she appeared to go even whiter, her skin appearing translucent almost. “They believe he drowned last night. There is doubt as to whether it was an accident or foul play.”
She raised one hand to cover her mouth and stared back at him with horrified eyes.
Her response gave him cause to believe he’d been right to suspect the blighter’s death had something to do with her. “Did he attack you again last night?”
She was shaking her head but not in answer to his question. “I didn’t mean to! Oh, dear God, I didn’t mean to! Tell me this isn’t happening again!”
Justin crossed the carpet and dropped down beside her on the loveseat. Nothing in the world would stop him from holding her right now.
She didn’t need to tell him it had been an accident. He didn’t need for her to tell him she had been defending herself.
“Hush, hush.” He tucked her head into his chest and rubbed his hands up and down her back. “This isn’t your fault. Even if he died at your hands. I know, by God, I know with everything inside of me that it isn’t your fault.”
“But I didn’t believe in you!” she wailed into his shirtfront. “I broke into White’s with every intention of forging your name. How can you believe in me now? And after everything I’ve told you about Dudley Scofield.”
He hushed her again, his lips finding the gentle curve of her cheek. “I’ll always believe in you. Always.”
And then her arms wound around his neck. “You cannot!” she moaned but clutched at him even more tightly.
He’d waited a lifetime for her. For this woman.
He’d fought his attraction from the very beginning, attributed it to an ungodly lust.
He was a fool!
