He nodded. “Of course. All those stolen kisses don’t lie.”
She almost sagged in relief. When she’d pictured addressing this with him over the past few days, she had feared he would behave as though what had happened between them meant nothing. That she was imagining things.
“Yes, and those stolen kisses have been…wonderful.” Her breath caught and she fought again for calm. “And unexpected. I don’t—I don’t regret them, Morgan. But I do fear their consequences. At the very least, what we’ve done could cause you to lose your employment.”
His mouth tightened a fraction, but that was his only reaction to the statement. “Yes, you are correct. If your brother found out about all the kissing, I’m sure he would sack me within moments. And call me out if I wasn’t lucky.”
She nodded. “There would be consequences for me, as well.” She dipped her head as she tried not to picture Hugh’s disappointment in her. How he would feel when he realized she hadn’t learned her lesson the first time she made such a dreadful mistake. It would change their relationship irrevocably. How could it not?
“I see,” he said, noncommittal.
She shifted in her seat. It was best just to say this. Just to have it out and be done with it. But heavens, it was difficult. Especially when he was so close and so handsome.
“Morgan, I think it would be best if we distance ourselves,” she burst out in one smashed-together sentence.
His stare remained even for a breath and then he nodded slowly. “I’m glad you said so, my lady. While what we shared was very pleasant, it was dangerously imprudent. And I think you are correct that ending it now is better than allowing our attraction to confuse matters, or endanger either of our futures.”
She blinked. That was it? He was just going to accept what she said? Even look…relieved that she’d said it? It was ridiculous, because she should have been happy they were on the same page in this matter. That he didn’t get upset or angry or argue against her words.
But she wasn’t. Looking at him and seeing how little any of this had meant, it…it hurt her feelings. She pushed to her feet and paced away, smoothing her hands along her skirt as she tried to regain some purchase on these hateful emotions that flooded up in her.
“Very good,” she forced herself to say as she turned back to him with a small smile. He had risen to his feet when she did, and he stood, hands clasped behind his back, feet spread wide. He looked completely unaffected.
“Yes,” he agreed. Then he stepped forward and held out a hand to her. “Lady Elizabeth.”
She hesitated a moment. She wasn’t wearing gloves. This would likely be the last time she ever touched her bare skin to his. Should she allow it? Refuse it? Savor it?
Trembling more than she’d like, she extended her hand. He clasped it in his and shook it gently. Electric heat flowed between them as he stared down into her face, those dark brown eyes holding her captive. His thumb moved, stroking over the knuckle of her index finger. She shivered, but then he released her and she wasn’t certain he had even done that on purpose.
“M-Mr. Banfield,” she choked out.
He cleared his throat. “Well, I should rejoin your brother. I will see you tonight at the ball, I’m certain.”
She nodded. “Yes. Tonight.”
He gave her a rather formal half-bow, then he pivoted and exited the room without so much as a backward glance for her. She gasped out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and crossed back to the chairs before her fire where she collapsed with a sigh.
That had gone as well as she could have ever hoped for, and yet she felt a desperate, aching sense of disappointment. For whatever pleasure Morgan—no,Mr. Banfield—had gleaned from their attraction, it had taken him no effort to walk away from it.
“Perhaps I can take a lesson from that,” she muttered to herself as she smoothed her skirts once more. “Perhaps I should learn to be more detached, as he is.”
She straightened her shoulders and drew in a few breaths. It didn’t help. She still felt wretched about the entire ordeal. She pushed to her feet and paced the room a few times, shaking out her hands and trying to think of anything else in the world. But there was nothing else, only this.
“That is that, then,” she muttered to herself. “It is better this way. Now you must focus on matters at hand.”
“Lizzie?”
She turned to find Hugh in her doorway, staring at her as if she had sprouted a second head. And why not? He had caught her wandering her study, talking to herself.
“Oh, Hugh,” she said, forcing a smile. “You caught me woolgathering.”
“It seems so. Did Amelia mention the ball to you?”
She frowned. His concern was right there, written across his face. She really was the family difficulty, it seemed. And she didn’t want to be, not anymore.
“She did,” she said, brightening her tone. “And, in fact, I was just about to go up to my chamber and speak to Nora about what I shall wear and how I will have my hair done.”
Hugh nodded, but his brow was still furrowed. “Very good.”
