“Especially the Duke of Herridge.”
She merely inclined her head in agreement.
The silence stretched between them for a few moments. She heard sounds like fabric rubbing together and wondered if he was taking off his trousers. The sound of a shoe dropping was loud enough that she jumped, startled, before admonishing herself sternly to remain motionless.
Then there was nothing. No sound at all, unless she counted her own breathing. But in the bathing room, there was water splashing, then the gurgle of the drain.
Was she going to stand here like a ninny for the entire time it took for him to ready himself for bed?
He emerged from the bathing chamber and she nearly turned around before remembering that he would be naked, of course. He should be attired in a nightgown, as was proper, but somehow she doubted he would be.
“Will you not share the bed with me, Lady Sarah? It looks comfortable, at least, and certainly large enough. You can occupy one half, and I shall occupy the other.”
“I shall be quite happy on my cot,” she said. Her voice sounded perfectly normal and without a betraying quiver to it. Years of standing before her father and hiding her true emotions had made her quite adept at managing fear.
“A pity, then,” he said.
She heard him plump up the pillows, then the squeak of the mattress straps as he sat on the bed.
“Do you want me to leave the light on?”
“That is not necessary,” she said. “I can settle myself perfectly well in the dark. There is nothing in the dark that wasn’t there in the night.”
She was startled to hear him chuckle.
“Do you think this situation amusing, Mr. Eston?”
“I think you are vastly amusing,” he said. “More than you could ever imagine.”
She didn’t know whether to be affronted or relieved. Surely a man who was amused by a woman could not be intent upon ravishing her?
Perhaps she should be like Scheherazade and tell him a tale to entertain him. And unfortunately, the only tales she knew were of Chavensworth. No doubt her life here was boring to him.
“Have you traveled a great deal?” she asked.
“I have, in the past,” he said. “Of my future, I can’t speak. It has a great deal to do with you.”
“I shouldn’t think that I would be an object of consideration, Mr. Eston,” she said.
She turned to face him, relieved that he was covered by the sheets and the coverlet. His shoulders were bare. The rest of him must be bare as well.
She looked away again.
“Chavensworth may keep you here, Mr. Eston. It’s beautiful, is it not?”
“It’s a building, Lady Sarah. As a building, it’s to be admired. I wouldn’t call it beautiful, however.”
“Are you that prideful a man that you will not admit to admiring anything? Not a structure, not God’s handiwork, nothing that you yourself did not build or cause to be constructed?”
“In other words, am I like the Duke of Herridge?” he asked. “No doubt your father’s arrogance has colored your opinion of all men. I am not like your father.”
She had no rejoinder for him. Only time, and perhaps familiarity, would tell exactly who he was. But at this moment, she wasn’t about to say that. Instead, she only nodded.
A moment later, the lamp was extinguished, and they were in darkness.
“I can smell you,” he said. “Do you think that’s entirely fair?”
“I beg your pardon?” She navigated to her cot and sat down on the edge of it, staring up at the bed on its dais. He was a shadow in the darkness, but she could tell well enough that he was sitting up and looking at her. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see his eyes gleam like a cat’s.
