“I don’t see that this is any of your concern.”
“You don’t?” Her eyebrows shot up. “You lied to me.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“Yes, you did.” She poked him in the chest and Preston had to keep backing up. She wielded that fingernail like a knife. “When you escorted me across the road you led me to believe you were going to offer for her. Not make love to her without even telling her how you feel.”
“I meant to.” Preston fell into a chair, and she towered over him.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well, when I got to her room, well, she had just bathed, and, well, her wrap was damp. . .”
Monique let out a loud sigh and rolled her eyes. “Your brain stopped working but something else took over?”
Heat rushed to his face at the truth, and he grew rather uncomfortable. Since when did grown gentlemen blush? Yet, Althea and now Monique had both caused him to. “I meant to tell her this morning, but she had already gone.”
“What did you wish to tell me?”
Preston’s head jerked up. Althea stood in the doorway leading to the back of the building. She looked beautiful, lamplight casting a halo around her, just like in London. He stood and approached. Her face was deathly pale and there was weariness in her emerald eyes. Did she have regrets? He dearly hoped not.
Preston drew close and took her hands in his. Her skin was ice cold. He rubbed the backs of her hands, attempting to bring warmth to her fingers. She simply stood and stared at him. She had asked him a question, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall it. Althea seemed so fragile right now, her eyes studying him, lips drawn, and all he wanted to do was hold her and protect her.
He took her in his arms and rubbed her back, offering what comfort he could, then kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go back to the inn.”
Everything else faded when she looked up at him, her full lips begging to be kissed. He lowered his mouth and brought hers to his. Would he ever get enough of kissing her, touching her, making love to her? Preston pulled Althea tight against his body. Last night was just a sampling of what could be. He intended to show her more, now.
Something pulled at his jacket and Preston was jerked back rather forcefully. He turned to see who would do such a thing and found Monique glaring at him again, arms crossed over her chest, and he groaned. He still hadn’t told Althea how he felt.
For months he had dreamed of holding her, kissing her, and all manner of things and now that he had, all speech was robbed. He quit thinking because all he wanted to do was go back to loving her.
“I now understand.”
“What?”
“Come here.” She grabbed his arm and shoved him into what he assumed was a dressing room. A small, round dais sat in the middle, which he assumed the ladies stood on for hems and such.
“Stay there.” Monique was as fierce as any schoolmaster he ever encountered, and Preston didn’t dare move.
The drapes to the room were yanked closed.
“What are you doing?”
“You will not come out until you’ve said what needs to be said,” Monique ordered. “I’ll nail the curtain shut if you try to come out.”
Monique did have a point. He really couldn’t think straight looking at Althea. He hoped that wasn’t the future or she would leave him for lack of conversation.
Except, they’d managed to discuss many things in the time that she’d been in his home. However, none of those topics involved how he regarded her, or what he wished for the future.
Althea had at least a liking for him or she would not have allowed him into her bed. Many marriages had started with much less between couples.
He had to convince her to stay no matter the cost to his heart.
“She does not need a grand speech, Lord Melcombe,” Monique called. “Quit rehearsing it and speak, for we don’t wish to wait the day away.”
“Very well.” However, he did not want to expose his emotions with Monique listening as well. “Could you at least leave?”
He heard a bit of material rustling and then silence.
