His words didn’t make her smile.
“You’re safe, Eliza. No mouse will come into your room, and I’ll make sure this board is replaced by tonight.”
“It’s not rational,” she said slowly. “But my brother put one in my bed once, and ever since, I’ve hated the sound they make and their eyes.”
“My brother put a nest of spiders in my bed. I can’t stand the sight of them still,” he said, telling her something he’d never told anyone.
“I shall protect you from spiders if you protect me from mice,” she said solemnly.
He nodded, unsure how he felt about the fact they now had more secrets shared between them. It felt like this woman was working her way inside him, and he didn’t know how to stop that from happening. Worse yet, he didn’t think he wanted to.
She released Chester, and Mungo clicked his fingers. The dog leapt off the bed with a weighty sigh like it was his job togo downstairs and light the fires, not laze about in front of them.
“I’ll see you downstairs, then.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue.” After another look at the book, she got off the bed. Patting down her skirts, she gave him a brisk nod. “It’s my hope that your niece is found today.”
She wanted him to leave. He knew that. He didn’t go.
“Well,” Eliza said when the silence stretched between them.
“Why did your uncle throw you out of his house?” That one thought had hounded him all night. What person did that to a young girl who had already lost too much?
He’d contemplated revenge on her behalf. What he’d say to the bastard who shared her blood. The man who had turned from her when she was most in need.
Color flushed her cheeks, but she did not look away. “I have no wish to speak of that, as I told you last night.”
He moved closer, deliberately intimidating her. Or perhaps not intimidating her—perhaps only needing to be near her, to breathe the same air, to see what emotion flickered in those dark eyes.
“Have you seen him since?”
“I have not.”
The tension thickened, wrapping around them.
“Where did you go?” he asked quietly.
“I was old enough for employment, so I found some. How old were you when you left Scotland?” She raised her chin as if daring him to continue his interrogation because she would do the same.
“Fifteen,” he said.
“Why did you leave?” she asked.
“Why did you?”
Chester whined as if sensing the tension.
She was so beautiful, from the elegant curve of her brow to the soft line of her chin.
“Mungo.” She whispered his name, but it wasn’t a warning, as it should have been. It was a plea.
“Eliza,” he rasped back, and then he was lowering his head.
She didn’t step away. She didn’t even breathe.
His hand rose of its own accord, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. The soft tremble that moved through her shot straight through him, tightening every muscle in his body. Her skin warmed beneath his fingertips, and he felt himself slipping, losing the rigid control he prided himself on.
“Mungo, we should not do this,” she whispered. But the answering heat in her eyes betrayed her.
