“I had no right to tear into you like that.” He drew a breath. “I can have a devil of a temper, but I hope you believe me when I say that I would never lay a hand on you. I would never do you harm.”
“I believe you.” She’d been around enough brutes to know that he wasn’t one. “But I am at fault as well. In both cases, I should have known better than to trespass, but I did so anyway because I…I was so curious, you see.”
“About what?”
She could have said that her curiosity had been of the idle sort. She could have lied and had done so for lesser reasons. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do so now.
“About you.” Her cheeks warmed.
“What have you discovered about me thus far?”
The warmth in his eyes unraveled her good sense.
“To start, you are gallant and protective. You came to my aid with the bats even though I failed to heed your warning. Then you rescued me from that brute today. No one’s ever defended me like that before,” she said earnestly.
“Any gentleman would have done the same,” he said dismissively.
Life had taught her that was untrue. She’d been accosted by more than her fair share of so-called gentlemen. Since she couldn’t say that without giving away too much of her past, she kept the focus on him.
“I’ve also discovered that you are artistic and creative,” she said. “A brilliant musician.”
The warmth fled his eyes.
“Once upon a time that might have been true,” he said starkly. “Now I can no longer play.”
Her heart ached for him. “I cannot imagine how difficult that must be.”
He scrutinized her, and she was careful to keep pity out of her expression. It wasn’t what she felt, anyway. She felt for his situation, but she didn’t feel sorry for him…not with his talent and abilities.
“The change hasn’t been easy,” he said wryly.
“But surely that shouldn’t stop you from composing? That piece you began, it is lovely and full of such passion and feeling?—”
“I don’t wish to talk about it.”
“You cannot allow your talent to go to waste,” she persisted.
“My personal affairs don’t concern you. Kindly drop the matter.”
Even though she probably deserved it, the harshness of his tone hurt.You’re just a servant, a nobody. Your opinion means nothing to him.
“I overstepped,” she mumbled. “I’ll, um, just leave you to?—”
She took a step back, but he caught her wrist. Startled, she met his gaze. Frustration turned his irises a smoky violet, but there was something else there too.
Longing. It elicited a shivery, electric awareness in her.
“Devil take it, I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t leave.”
Their eyes held.
In the next instant, he pulled her onto his lap. Stunned, she didn’t react quickly enough when he removed her spectacles and set them on the table. She blinked, her heart racing as his gaze roved over her upturned face. When she tried to turn away, he caught her chin between his finger and thumb, holding her steady.
“You have freckles,” he murmured.
Blooming hell, my face paint must have rubbed off.
Panic thrummed. “I, um, yes. I can’t seem to get rid of them?—”
