She didn’t bother to answer, but knocked again.
Matt leaned against the door frame, puzzled. “I have sisters. I know when women are angry with me.”
Willa faced him. “I’mtiredof your sisters. ‘I have sisters,’ ” she mimicked. “I am not one of them. I have myownemotions.”
“Such as jealousy?” The thought rather pleased him. It meant she cared.
She rounded on him as if he’d pinched her. Her chin lifted. “I’m not jealous. However, I’m tired of women always making over you. They are bothersome. No, worse, they are rude.”
“You don’t need to be jealous. Especially over that creature downstairs.” He paused and added, “Or any other woman, Willa. Those lads were making comments about you.”
“Apparently it didn’t bother you.”
“You were with me, and I know you have better taste than what they could offer.”
“You are always so sure about things.”
He frowned at her. “Do I need to be worried?” What was she saying?
Her glance met his eye and then shifted away. “We aren’t a love match.”
He might argue that point but before he could, she said, “Or truly man and wife.”
Matt forgot about Ross and Hardesty and everything else in the world. “Are you telling me you are ready?”
“For you toporkme?”
Her use of the word made him grin. She was both bold and innocent. A fascinating combination.
“Yes, I am,” she admitted, without waiting for his response. “I’ve thought about our conversation yesterday.”
“And about last night?”
Her brows came together. “I want to trust you.”
“You can—”
The door across the hall cracked open. “Pipe it down out there,” a woman croaked out at them. The door slammed shut.
Willa gaped at the door that had opened, speculation in her eye.
“They sleep during the day,” Matt explained.
“That really was a whore?” Her eyes widened as if she was scandalized but then she laughed, covering her mouth at the last minute to stifle the sound.
“I’m also done waiting for Ross,” Matt said. He reached for the door handle. It wasn’t locked. He pushed it open, ready to charge into the room—but then drew back immediately.
He thought to cover Willa’s eyes, but he was too late. She was right behind him and had a good look at the Irishman in the bed, his throat cut and the sheets stained with blood. On the floor beside the bed was the body of a woman.
Willa’s scream would have woken the dead.
Certainly, it woke the whores.
Chapter 15
The door across the hall opened. The strumpet marched furiously out of her room, her fists clenched. She wore a filthy chemise and nothing more. But she wasn’t the only one. Sleepy, grumpy women in different stages of undress opened their doors to complain.
“I told you to pipe it down,” the strumpet said, ready to take on Willa, until she caught a glimpse of Ross in the blood-soaked bed.
