Once at the top, she pulled me down the hall to—if the open door was any indication—one of the newly aired rooms. It was, of course, the moment I realized the terrible mistake I’d just made.
I was about to bealone. With Davina. Near a bed. And a locking door.
I wasn’t fool enough to think my honor and will would be any stronger there than they had been in the study. If she noticed the thickening of my steps, she didn’t acknowledge it in any way.
“Davina…”
When she turned to face me at the threshold, I was certain she’d decided to ignore my efforts. The innocence of her smile was entirely too feigned.
And then she destroyed me with a single sentence.
“Come to bed, Kit.”
Twenty-Three
LEIGHTON HALL—APRIL 12, 1817
DAVINA
His head hinged backon his neck to look askance at the ceiling. Or possibly a deity he couldn’t see. I wasn’ttryingto torture him precisely. But now that I’d discovered I was capable of it… Well, I wouldn’t make the effort to abstain either.
Under his breath I caught the wordmenacebetween irritated, indistinguishable mutterings and had to catch my lower lip between my teeth, lest my grin give me away entirely.
In spite of his grumblings, he followed me when I dipped inside and held the door for him. That was the extent of his acquiescence though. His gaze cast about the dark navy fabrics and rich cherry wood of the furnishings. With a mumbled curse, he pointed at the bed. “You, sit there.”
He found a wooden chair near the washstand and dumped the towel unceremoniously on the floor. He spun the chair around so the back faced me and then straddled it.All the way across the room.
“Is this necessary?”
“Absolutely it is. If we could converse privately with a wall between us, that would be necessary. Ideally, there would be a small country between us but that seems impractical.”
“You really think that little of your restraint?”
“Yes, and I think yours is nonexistent.”
I let the smile slip across my face. “You’re not wrong. But where is the fun in restraint?”
He shot me a familiar disapproving look. They were becoming less frequent and much less severe. “We could have fun with restraints. But first, we have two very serious conversations to have. Which would you like first?”
I wasn’t entirely certain what he meant by the first comment, but I set it aside. I rather hoped one of the conversations would end with little in the way of conversation. Best to get practical matters out of the way first. “You mentioned you had a plan for how to help Xander.”
“Planis maybe too strong a word. And it’s considered fraud in at least”—he lifted fingers as though counting—“seven countries.”
“Do tell.”
“The good news is he’s in Scotland—no need for the bans, only two witnesses. We could find a willing woman to claim the babe and wed your brother. We would only need a few easily bribed witnesses to swear the wedding took place months ago.” My disappointment must have shown on my face because he asked, “What?”
“I just… He and Tom shouldn’t have to live a lie.”
Kit’s brows hit his hairline. “Tom? Tom Grayson? My brother-in-law, Tom?”
Damn, I’d forgotten I’d left that part out. “Yes?” It wasn’t intended as a question, but it sounded that way.
Kit considered for a moment, head tilting like an adorable spaniel’s before he released an ambiguous, “Hmm,” paired with a shrug.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Oh, just that Katie will be quite disappointed. She had grand romantic plans for him.”
