Leopold had asked questions why she would agree to such, and she offered her version of what Bolton had let the gossips overhear, that they were friends once, before she wed and that he trusted her. Thankfully, Leopold had been satisfied with that answer.
Once she was finally home, or in Crispin’s home, her maid helped her out of her dress and corset and into a night rail, Octavia dismissed her for the night, then settled at the dressing table where she removed the pins from her hair, then began to brush it out while she relived the kiss in her mind.
How long would he take to decide?
At the creak of the floorboards outside her chamber, Octavia stilled, then dismissed her concern. It was likely a servant seeing to a duty before turning in for the night.
She returned to brushing her hair but paused as the floor creaked again and seemed to be directly beyond her door.
Her heart raced, beating against her breastbone as she quickly rose from her seat and scanned the room for a weapon.
Who was in her house and why? Neither a maid nor footman, or any of the servants would stop outside her chamber. If they needed something, they would knock.
Her chamber door slowly opened, and Octavia rushed to the fireplace and retrieved the poker, prepared to yell that there was an intruder when Bolton stepped into her bedchamber.
“Good evening, Octavia.”
She blinked, not certain she was imagining Lord Bolton or if he was truly here.
“How did you get in?”
He grinned and shrugged. “It was rather easy to pick the lock on the back door.”
Octavia blew out a sigh and returned the poker to the hook. “Why are you here?” She didn’t dare hope that he had decided to agree to her terms. But if he did, did Bolton think to become her lover tonight? She honestly thought she’d have more time to prepare and arrange an assignation. Isn’t that how matters usually progressed?
“I realized that I could not make a decision without knowing what rule ten is.”
“Rule ten?”
“Yes, rule ten.” He closed the door.
She considered herself vulnerable when she believed there had been an intruder in the house. That was nothing compared to this given she was standing in her night rail in her chamber, and she was all alone with the one gentleman she desired.
“Could this not have waited until tomorrow?” She crossed to her bed and lifted the wrapper to better cover herself.
“No,” he answered. “I have been giving your terms much thought, but without knowing what rule number ten implies, I would be negotiating from a weaker position.”
“I doubt that you have ever found yourself in the weaker position before, Lord Bolton.”
“As we are alone in your bedchamber, and you are dressed for slumber, should you not call me Angelo?” Her body heated at the intimacy of the setting, the intensity in his brown eyes, and the lazy perusal of her body, as if he could see right through the cotton covering her body.
Octavia grasped her wrapper tight as if such a feeble attempt could shield her from his gaze. “Why do you not go into the drawing room and pour yourself a glass of brandy while I change into something more appropriate for discussion.”
The corner of his mouth tipped. “I have no complaints about your current attire, Octavia. In fact, I enjoyed it better before you added the wrapper. Especially when you stood before the fire, which provided the perfect lighting so that I was able to appreciate the curves you possess when until now I had only been able to imagine.”
She was going to go up in flames from either the spike of heat in the chamber or embarrassment. She quickly moved toward the window, then changed her mind as light filtered in from the moon, then found a place to stand where light would not penetrate her clothing.
“Please,” she finally asked. “If we are to discuss rules and negotiate, I do not wish to be at a disadvantage either. Not being properly dressed does such.”
Humor lit his eyes. “Ah, you greatly underestimate your power of persuasion,” he soothed. “Having the barest glimpse of what awaits, I would nearly agree to anything you propose. If you remove your wrapper, I might forget there is another rule and agree to the three weeks as you asked.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. Could she do such to gain her way?
Would it be her seducing Bolton to get what she wanted? Was that even fair?
She was certain that when seduction was involved that it was rarely fair to the person who eventually surrendered. Therefore, she would not use her lack of clothing to gain what she truly wished. “I will tell you rule ten if you leave and allow me to dress properly. If you are not in agreement, then perhaps you should depart from the house.”
He took a step forward. “Perhaps I should seduce you into telling me.”
