Half of him hoped she would say yes; the other half understood a no would better further her goal of successfully clothing her body. For if he helped and put his hands on her, he wouldn’t be able to keep those same hands off her.
So, he rolled out of bed, donned his robe, and went to stand beside the hearth. Offhand, he said, “I reckon I’ll need to have another go at my second noble deed.”
During the delivery of those words, Tilly had gone still.
“Not with Whitty, of course,” he said on a dry laugh. “Though, I will try talking to him after he wakes. Might as well, I suppose. I’ve come this far.” Another dry laugh.
Neither laugh had she reciprocated.
Which wasn’t like Tilly.
She finished lacing her boots, then turned and met his gaze. “Well…”
She had something to say, it was clear—but she was having trouble saying it.
“Yes?”
The heavy footstep of foreboding crept through him.
He didn’t like that look in her eye—apologetic…determined.
It was only when she dug into an interior pocket of her black velvet cloak that he realized she was fully, decidedly dressed.
She was ready to leave.
Her hand emerged holding something shiny.
Rhys blinked.
On her palm lay Papa’s signet ring.
“Here,” she said. She was offering it to him.
Rhys didn’t move to take it. “What do you mean, here?”
“You can have it back.”
“But I haven’t earned it.”
No, no, no.
If she gave him the ring now, then time was up.
Their time was up.
Carefully, she set the ring on the table nearest her, the embers from the fireplace imbuing the gold with a mellow shine, the cabochon emerald glowing an otherworldly green.
A thing of beauty and power, that ring—and Rhys wished she would keep it.
“Return it to your pa, Rhys, and make your amends.”
“But the noble deeds?—”
She didn’t let him finish his protest. “You are noble, Rhys. In here.” She tapped her chest directly above her heart. “You just need to believe it of yourself and let it guide you. I believe it of you.”
And that was her case made.
Rhys watched, gobsmacked and gutted, as she gathered her cloak about her, then crossed the room to the door. It was only when her hand closed around the handle that she hesitated. She glanced over her shoulder, a war in her eyes. Then she released the handle and doubled back to stand before him.
