Martin.
He had not left. He must have heard her stumble, must have moved faster than she would have thought possible. He had been right behind her this entire time, close enough to catch her when she fell.
Vanessa's heart was pounding from the near fall, she told herself. Only from the near fall. Not from the feel of his arms around her, or the press of his chest against her back, or the wayhis hands gripped her waist as though he never intended to let go.
"You…" Her voice came out breathless, unsteady. "I thought you had left."
"I forgot my gloves." His voice was strange, rough, nothing like his usual polished tones. She could feel the vibration of it in his chest, pressed against her back. "Lucky for you, it seems."
He still had not released her. They stood there at the foot of the stairs, wrapped together in an embrace that had long since exceeded the bounds of propriety. His arms were tight around her, her body molded against his, and neither of them seemed capable of moving.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur.
"No. I…no. I am fine."
"You do not feel fine. You are trembling."
She was trembling. She had not noticed until he pointed it out, but her entire body was shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. Whether from the shock of the near fall or the shock of being held in Martin's arms, she could not say.
"I am cold," she lied.
"You are not cold. It is perfectly warm in here." His arms tightened almost imperceptibly. "What are you afraid of, Vanessa?"
You,she thought.I am afraid of you, and how you make me feel, and the power you have to destroy me without even trying.
Before she could answer—before she could find words for any of the chaos rioting in her chest, a voice rang out from the landing above.
"Was that Martin I heard? I wanted to catch him before he left."
Edward was standing on the landing, looking down at them, and she was still wrapped in Martin's arms like some sort of damsel in a very improper embrace.
Martin released her as though she were made of fire, stepping back with a smoothness thatalmostdisguised the tremor in his hands.
"She nearly fell. I merely prevented an injury." His voice was back to its usual drawl, but something in his eyes…something hot and desperate and utterly unlike the composed Duke of Montehood told a different story. "Your sister appears to have difficulty with stairs. You might want to look into that."
"I do not have difficulty with stairs," Vanessa protested, her cheeks burning so hot she was surprised the wallpaper was not catching fire. "I simply lost my balance."
"Of course you did." Martin's smile was back, but it did not reach his eyes. Those grey depths were turbulent, stormy, filled with something she could not name. "Do try to be more careful, little Wayworth. I will not always be here to catch you."
The words hung in the air between them, weighted with meaning she did not understand.
He collected his gloves from the side table, gloves that Vanessa was fairly certain he had deliberately left behind and departed without another word. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and then he was gone, leaving Vanessa alone with her brother and the lingering sensation of Martin's arms around her.
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Well," Edward said finally, descending the remaining stairs with exaggerated casualness. "That was interesting."
"It was nothing."
"It did not look like nothing." He reached the bottom and stood before her, his expression a mixture of concern and something that looked disturbingly like amusement. "It looked rather like something, actually. Something significant."
"He caught me when I fell. That is all. He would have done the same for anyone."
"Would he?" Edward tilted his head, studying her with an intensity she found deeply uncomfortable. "Because the Martin I know does not typically forget his gloves. And he certainly does not linger in entrance halls on the off chance that someone might trip on the stairs."
Vanessa felt her cheeks flame hotter. "I do not know what you are implying."
"I am not implying anything. I am merely observing." He crossed his arms, leaning against the newel post. "He held you for quite a long time, Van. Long after you had regained your balance. Long after propriety would demand he release you."
