“Why not?” Lips twitching, Rhys settled on the mattress beside her. Slinging an arm around her shoulders, he murmured, “We are.”
His nearness almost distracted her from her point. “That’s different. You and I have known each other for longer. And I’m a widow whereas Patty has never been married.”
“Hypatia strikes me as a woman who knows her own mind. If it will ease yours, Arthur Newton is one of the finest men I know. He would not take advantage of a lady. The two of them are probably engaged in a heated…”—his lips quirked—“discussion of Plato.”
“I do like Mr. Newton.” She bit her lip. “I just don’t want Patty to get hurt…to do something she might later regret.”
“Like you did?” Although Rhys spoke quietly, there was an intensity in his hazel eyes.
She hadn’t been thinking about herself just then, but since he’d brought up the past, she couldn’t deny that she had her share of regrets. The main one being that she’d lied to Rhys about Glory.
With every moment that passed, the burden of that falsehood grew bigger. And now she and Rhys would soon be parted. In discussing the plans for London, he’d been adamant that she would not be accompanying him. He wanted her to “stay put” in Dorset. Despite her protests, he’d stated unequivocally that he would not risk exposing her to the cutthroats who awaited him in Town.
She’d never seen him so serious. So firm in his resolution. The devil-may-care rake was gone, replaced by a man whose protective stance sent pleasant shivers through her.
And earlier in the kitchen, he’d told her that shemattered. Joy spilled through her, warring with doubt. For he’d also said that he was not free to make her any promises. Would he welcome the knowledge that he was Glory’s father?
“Maggie, is there something you want to tell me?” Rhys was studying her, and she experienced a strangefrisson. It was as if he already knew what she was hiding.
You can’t let him leave without telling him he’s Glory’s father. He has a right to know. What’s the worst that could happen?
He could be furious at her for lying. He, a bona fide duke, could want nothing to do with the bastard he’d had with a serving maid. Or the most likely scenario: he would feel both honor and duty-bound to provide for her and Glory.
To her mind, the last possibility was the worst of the three. She’d rather deal with his anger than be an obligation to him. She’d gotten along without him just fine; she owned a business, was capable of earning her keep and that of her family. She didn’t need his or any man’s money. The only thing she wanted from him was…
What you cannot have. This is an affair, remember? Even if you ‘matter’ to him, there are no strings, nothing to bring him back after he finds his treasure.
He tipped her chin up. “What are you thinking, sweeting?”
“Let me go with you to London.” She hated that the words sounded like a plea. “I’ve been helpful to you thus far. I can help you find the treasure.”
“We discussed this.” Although his eyes were soft, his jaw had a granite edge. “I’m not risking your neck to save mine. You’re far too precious to me.”
Her heart leapt at his words. Yet…they were just words. He gave her no real assurances.
Because he’s a duke,her inner voice said.Men like him don’t wed former tavern wenches. It is as Mama said: there’ll be no faerie tale endings.
“Maggie, you know I’m not free to make you promises. Not when I have a noose of debt around my neck. But if I could, I—”
“Say no more.” She patched up her hurt, covering it with a smile. “You were clear from the outset that this was just pleasure for the moment. Trust me, I have no expectations of roses and violins and happily-ever-after.”
He stared at her before dragging a hand through his hair. “This may have started out as an affair, but you and I both know it’s become more. Until I find that treasure, however, I’m not at liberty to make you promises.”
She told herself to be glad that she meant more to him than his average paramour. “That is kind of you to say. Especially to a woman like me.”
“Damnit, Maggie.” His voice held the growl of frustration. “I’m not beingkind. A woman like you deserves everything. I’m the problem, don’t you see?”
Emotion frothed like ale inside her. He radiated a similar tension. Out of nowhere, agitated energy swirled between them; she felt as if they were perilously close to having a row.
She heard Paul’s voice.Politeness dictates that if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing.
“There’s no point in discussing the matter further.” She faked a yawn. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Exhausted, in point of fact.”
Rhys’s dark brows lowered. He looked as if he might argue.
“Good night,” she said tartly, in case he didn’t get the point.
The lamp flickered. When the shadows lifted, his expression was again smooth and urbane.
