She was still in the process of berating herself when she heard heavy footsteps coming up behind her. She didn’t have time to even attempt to run for the safety of her bedchamber and lock herself inside before she was effectively spun around to face Alister’s thunderous expression.
“Do you mind telling me what thehellthat was all about?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lyra lifted her chin a defiant notch. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t you?” he challenged with a lift of his censorious brows. “You were rather rude to leave Mrs. Birdwell in such an abrupt manner.”
“Iwas?” she shot back with a rather unladylike snort. “You dare to lecture me when I don’t seeyoustill sitting at the dining table.”
Alister clenched his jaw. “I came to check on you.”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly well, Your Grace.” As a dainty hiccup escaped, Lyra put a hand to her mouth.
Now it was Alister’s turn to scoff. “Hardly. From where I’m standing, you appear to be foxed.”
She frowned at his coarse tone and suddenly she wanted to lash out. After all, it was better to hold on to anger than give in to temptation. “Be that as it may, you don’t need to concern yourself with me. It isn’t as though I’m going to try and escape, so you don’t have to worry about your precious reputationbeing in jeopardy.”
Turning on her heel, Lyra intended to make a bold retreat. However, she didn’t realize he still had a firm grip on her elbow, and her own momentum effectively threw her off balance. But Alister was there to steady her, drawing her within the circle of his strong arms as he held her tight against that firm, warm chest.
She gasped upon the initial contact, but managed to sputter, “Release me…at once, you…brute!”
“Not until you tell me what it is I’ve obviously done to upset you,” he practically growled in her ear. With that, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“What are youdoing? Put me down! Are you completely mad?”
But for all her demands, she was met with annoying silence as he strode across the floor with an even, smooth gait. He didn’t stop until he was at her bedchamber door, pausing only long enough to walk inside and kick the door shut. Only then did he set her on her feet. Lyra glared at him mutinously as she flopped down in a chair by the fireplace, but it didn’t even faze him, for he stood against the oak panel with his arms crossed, looking as if he was prepared to wait her out until doomsday.
Two can play this game, she thought irritably, lifting a challenging brow.
As the minutes ticked by like hours, she began to ache from holding herself so stiffly. A single bead of sweat began to trail down the back of her corset, making her itch, but she merely pursed her mouth even harder. She didn’t care if she looked like the worst sort of childish prude. After enduring those tumultuous years of marriage to Roger, surely she could withstandthisman’s hard stare.
But it wasn’t long before that slight itch felt like a thousand ants crawling over her skin.
Just when she was just about to give in, the duke set his hands on his hips and sighed. “If you’re still upset about last night—”
He didn’t get the chance to finish, for she interrupted him by standing and walking over to the solitary window. All of the fight abruptly left her as she leaned her head against the cool pane of glass and whispered wearily, “Do you know how sick I am of doing things the proper way? I’ve done that all my life in order to avoid scandal, and look where it’s gotten me. I was married to a horrible man who is still trying to punish me from beyond the grave. I’m tired of walking on pins and needles simply for the sake of others.” She blew out a breath, watching it cloud on the glass in front of her. “There are times I just want to throw caution to the wind. The only thing I’ve ever truly wanted—” She stopped herself before she waded into dangerous waters, under which she might never resurface.
It was Alister who caused her to drown.
His husky murmur came from right behind her, his breath warm and inviting on the nape of her neck. “What do you want, Lyra?”
She closed her eyes momentarily and then slowly turned to face him. His coffee-colored eyes had turned to a molten, dark chocolate. The swirls of desire she saw there caused her secret confession to tumble forth. “I want to experience that coveted emotion of poets and writers. I want to know what it’s like to have passion and desire, but most of all, I want to know what it’s like to love and be loved.”
Alister froze. Of all the things he’d expected Lyra to say, those words hadn’t been what he would have guessed. After she’d pulled away from him the night before, along with her distant mood throughout the day, he assumed he’d scared her off by displaying such intimacy. After living under the brutal and possessive thumb of Roger Coventry for so long, it would certainly be understandable.
But to hear the opposite coming from those kissable lips…
She was certainly a difficult allure to resist, but Alister had to force himself to view this untenable situation in a rational manner. It wasn’t as if he could reject years of training and polished society conduct to indulge in such a risky affair. Granted, he felt Lyra was as guilty of murder as he was of sedition, but if he chose to go down such a dangerous path, wouldn’t he be balancing on the very edge of treason? Lord Liverpool had charged him with the care of Lyra on the strict basis that it was only to find evidence on Lord Weston and any current threats that might be brewing in the face of King George III’s death and Prinny’s ultimate succession to the throne.
To indulge in carnality would certainlynotqualify as proper conduct of a Home Office agent.
And yet…
Alister knew exactly how Lyra felt.
Wearing a pensive frown, he released a slow breath. For years, he’d felt the limitations placed upon him the moment he’d ascended to the title following the death of his father. He’d been thirteen years of age when his father died. Weighed down with endless responsibilities, he became the ton’s outlet for the brunt of their jokes in light of his awkwardness. But the truth was, he merely employed a serious mien and reserved manner. Through it all, he had suffered in silence, not wishing to bring about any fodder for scandal, such as his widowed sister and her penchant for high stakes card games. He’d always been so concerned over Euphemia’s reputation that he’d lost himself somewhere along the way.
