And then she was kneeling beside him, imploring. “You did say you would help me.”
“I know.” He wanted to help her get out of her marriage, but at the cost of his relationship with Flavion? What was that relationship worth, anyhow? He was beginning to wonder if Flave’s life could ever be brought to rights. Stephen brought up one arm and laid it across his eyes, blocking her from his view. He wished he could either hate Flave or love him. Why must he feel both?
“Why did you leave before? Why did you leave England?” she asked. It was almost as though she read his mind.
“What does that matter? What does that have to do with any of this?” She could certainly be annoying. He pulled his arm off his face and scowled at her.
“Well…” she said hesitantly. “…you seem to be very… protective of Flavion, and yet you did not return when his father died, at a time when I think he probably needed you most. I think you must have quarreled horribly for you to have left the country for so long.” And then she shrugged, that pretty little shrug of hers that was so unaffected. “I just wondered… that’s all.”
Stephen pulled his arm back up to cover his eyes. She was a pestilence. “Its ancient history,” he said in hopes that she would leave it be.
“I love history,” she responded patiently, her voice sounding closer than it had before.
He lay completely still. A wind rustled through some nearby trees and an owl hooted. He could feel her beside him, kneeling on the ground, patiently waiting for his answer. What woman did that? What woman could remain silent for this long?
“I left after my betrothed jilted me to become Flavion’s countess — which she nearly did — but Flave would not be caught.”
“Oh.”
“I told myself it was because of the title, but I don’t really think it was. Flavion has a certain,je ne se qua, so to speak. He’s always possessed a special charisma. The lady’s romantic soul was caught up by Flavion’s fearless lifestyle… curricle races, fisticuffs, gambling. He was much more exciting than I… She liked him better.” And just when he thought he’d finished telling her all this tripe, he added, “I tried to remain with my uncle… and with Flave, but it grew increasingly uncomfortable. My uncle chose to completely ignore what happened. He told me it was simply the way of the world. The way ofourworld, anyhow. Flave would someday be the earl. It was my duty to stand by and assist him. Always.”
“How long did it take before Flavion threw her over?” Yes, she understood Flavion Nottingham, the fifth Earl of Kensington, all too well now.
At this question, Stephen turned his head and looked at her from under his arm. “Barely long enough for me to have left the country.” He grimaced. “My uncle wrote to me and begged me to return. He said he needed me to provide asteady presencefor Flavion. He said he realized Flavion was not going to be diligent with the properties. It was my duty to keep ‘the boy’ in check.” He let out a long, pent-up breath. “But I was bitter and angry with both of them. I never wrote back.”
“And when your uncle died, you still did not return,” the countess said.
“Right.”
“And, having ignored your guilt for so long, you think to atone by helping Flavion now.”
“Perhaps.”
She rose from her knees and made to sit down on the bench. Stephen bent his knees further so that she had room, but still, her skirts fell on and around his boots. She turned toward him and rested one of her arms atop his knees. “So you will not do it?”
Her nearness surrounded him. “I have not said that. You are certainly quick to put words in my mouth.”
She began drawing invisible circles on his knee with one of her fingers. Stephen had to force himself to think. This plan of hers, in reality, was quite innocent. The repercussions were not. He was not even certain it would work. If Flavion’s lack of affection for his wife was anything to go by.
And yet, Flave wouldnotappreciate being made to look a fool before all theton.
“But you have given yourself the task of watching out for Flavion, ofprotecting him.” Was she now attempting to talk himoutof helping her?
“Perhaps that includes watching out for Flavion’s wife, protectingher,” he said quietly. And then he sat up, putting one foot down on each side of the bench, straddling it and facing her. He reached up a hand and gently tugged at a wayward curl. “I have the feeling that if I do not assist you with this plan, then you will find some poor devil who will. And I prefer to have at least a modicum of control where you are concerned.”
She closed her eyes for a second before opening them again. “Thank you! Oh, thank you, Stephen.”
His name, on her lips, had an odd effect upon him.
“I suppose you have some ideas already brewing as to how you’d like to go about this?” he asked, realizing his voice sounded a bit gruffer than usual.
This must be what purgatory felt like. All the wonders of heaven, right before him, but quite out of reach. She was Flavion’s wife, and yet… she was not.
She dropped one of her hands to his leg, resting it on the stretched material of his breeches. Every particle of his being screamed out for him to kiss her. She still hadn’t answered his question. Not only was she unchaperoned, but she wanted him. Or was she still attempting to be persuasive? Or was she simply resting her hand upon his thigh because there was nowhere else to rest it?
“You don’t have any ideas?” he asked, laughing at himself. God, he’d been too long in his own company.
“Oh, no, I mean, yes, yes I do.” They continued sitting in very close proximity to one another “I had thought that it would be effective for Flavion to find me in bed with my lover… with you… well, not my actual lover… Anyhow, I had thought I would leave my door unlocked, and when he attempts to enter my suite, he will see what appears to be evidence of my infidelity.” Even by moonlight, he could see the telltale signs of her blush.
