“Ah.” Lord Windham stepped aside. “Do not let me detain you, Miss Fitzroy. I shall never have it said that I interrupted your reading.”
It was an odd thing to say, but Lavinia brushed it off. She had come to expect Lord Windham to be a bit unusual and decided that he struggled so much because he aimed to be pleasing and attentive, but was so shy and reserved that the proper words never sprang to his mind with ease.
“Good night, My Lord.” Lavinia bobbed a quick curtsy.
“Good night, Miss Fitzroy.”
Then, with the intention of only waiting in the room for a matter of moments until she was certain the hall was clear once more, Lavinia twisted the doorknob and let herself into the unoccupied guest chamber.
“Who are you to enter my chambers?”
Her heart stuttered when she heard an unfamiliar voice.
She had never felt such embarrassment before. In all her years of being prim and careful, never once had she found herself in such a mortifying situation.
She cast a quick glance around the room, but she could barely see in the dark. Whoever was speaking to her had snuffed the candle long ago and pulled the drapes to block out the moonlight.
What am I going to do?
Tremulously, she took a step backward. Her shoulder blades pressed against the wooden door.
“Tell me, who are you?” The voice was deep and coarse, and her body suddenly turned cold.
She squinted and peered into the darkness, but there was no use. Her eyes were taking too long to adjust, and with each passing second, she was becoming more flustered.
Gathering all her courage, she inhaled deeply and stepped away from the door. She would apologize, most wholeheartedly, for disturbing this gentleman’s peace. Then, she would take her leave.
But before she could speak, a candle blazed and provided a small bit of light.
Lavinia was momentarily disoriented. Her eyes had been giving her enough trouble already, but when the flame sparked to life, she had to blink rapidly to avoid seeing stars and black spots.
She took another step forward, and this time, when she looked up, she caught sight of the person who carried the candleholder.
The gentleman had a chin that looked like it had been chiseled by a sculptor. His nose was just as finely shaped, and his cheekbones were also well-defined. Because he was scowling at her, she could not see his teeth or the shape of his lips, but she did notice that his lower lip was fuller than the top one. He had a thick mane of blond hair. She imagined that at some point during the day, he had tied the locks back with a ribbon because there was a long, extended ripple in his tresses that went all the way around his head.
When her eyes met his, Lavinia forgot what she’d meant to say. Her apology fell away completely. She had never seen eyes quitelike his. They were light brown and intriguing. Caramel and gold flecks showed themselves in the candlelight, and when she leaned closer to him, she could detect a hint of honey tones in those glowing orbs.
And that was when she lost all sense in her body, except for the flutter in her stomach. It was foreign but euphoric.
“For the last time, who are you, and what are you doing here?” the man demanded. The tension in his voice filled the room.
Lavinia’s chest felt heavy upon hearing the timbre of his voice. She swallowed past a lump in her throat before putting all her force into an answer.
“I apologize, sir. It was not my intention to intrude…”
All of a sudden, her eyes fell on his torso. And just like that, she lost the ability to speak. She could have sworn that if perfection existed, this was where she would find it.
He was tall, much taller than her, and his shoulders were as wide as boulders. He wore nothing but a pair of breeches, so she could see the tightly coiled muscles in his chest. Her eyes trailed down from his broad shoulders to his wide chest to his perfectly chiseled stomach.
Never had she seen a man’s body before, but she prayed to the heavens to behold this one for the rest of her days. It all happened in an instant, and her body reacted in a way that shehad never felt before. It was a summer night, but the warmth that spread through her was so fierce, sodelicious.
“Who ordered you to come here?” he asked with such disdain that she was suddenly in a muddle.
“O-ordered me?” she stuttered, sensing the insult in his words.
“Yes!” he hissed. “Why would a maid wander into a guest’s chambers at this hour?”
“A maid?” Her awe was quickly replaced with rage. “I am not a maid. Don’t you know who I am?”
