Dara balked. “I will not—”
He held up his hands to stave off her protest. “I already know how you think. You may have the bedroom. I shall sleep on the settee, and Teddy will soon return to be our noble chaperone. I promise.”
She scoffed at the idea. “No one would believe he is a decent chaperone.”
“Oh, he’s not.” Then, seeing her eyes widen in surprise, he hurried to add, “I’m teasing, Dara. Besides, if I tried anything, you would strangle me with my neckcloth. I understand the rules.”
“If you did, I wouldn’t be here.” Realizing how priggish she sounded, she sought to ameliorate her position by saying, “These are your rooms. I shall take the settee. Besides, I could probably fit to lie on it, and you can’t. You are too big.” On those words, she marched right into the sitting room and plunked herself down on the leather.
She leaned back and felt herself relax—until he sat next to her. “Dara, I insist. You take the bed.”
“I will not. I will stay out here.”
“In your gown? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in a bed?”
“I would be wearing my gown in the bed,” she replied sensibly.
“No, while you were writing, I had Teddy lay out one of my shirts for you. It will make a decent, and actually rather fetching, nightdress. Please, use my room.”
Dara balled her still-gloved hands into fists. “I am reaching the point when boxing your ears sounds like a very good idea.”
“Careful, Miss Lanscarr. Ladies should never threaten violence. Or isn’t that one of the rules your sisters complain about?”
Slowly she turned her head. With a glare, she said, “I thought once one started using a name, they couldn’t go backward.”
He tilted back his head and laughed. The sound of life. It echoed through the room, and she could lose herself in it. She started laughing with him. After all of the events of the night, this was a release she needed. Tension drained from her. In its place was exhaustion.
They had spent a very difficult couple of hours in each other’s company. If anything, she trusted him more now than before. She had a better sense of his character.
No, she was not afraid of being ravished. What she feared was ravishing him. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? She could understand Elise’s feelings.
Michael removed his jacket. He offered it to her. “Here. If we are going to sit side by side onthis damned settee, we might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
“You don’t need to sit up with me,” Dara said. “And I don’t need your jacket. I’m fine.”
“Always fine,” he echoed. He dropped the jacket on her. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be a little gallant?”
The weight of the expensive wool settled around her. It felt good. It also made her feel protected, just as it had the day she’d jumped into the Serpentine. Considering the evening they’d had, offering his jacket was the least he could do.
Dara snuggled down inside it and let herself relax. Safe. She was safe, and not just from murderers but also from opinions and responsibilities and all the little ways she believed she had failed.
***
Michael recognized the moment she fell asleep. Her body slumped into his coat—while he was very much awake, aware of her every movement.
This was not how he had imagined he would fall in love.
He’d assumed that he would go through the usual pattern of noticing a woman, having her capture his interest, courting her, and then making an offer of marriage. Of course, she would say yes because, after all, he was a gentleman of substance. He’d also pictured that whatever woman he chose would actually have been like Lady Henrietta or Elise Lanscarr. Both beautiful. One with excellent connections and a fortune. The other lauded and celebrated.
So, how had his heart become wrapped around this headstrong, independent, penniless little Irish gentlewoman? One who was an admitted schemer?
He’d fallen in love because she was the sort of woman who hadn’t gone off into vapors over murder and the resulting dead bodies. She had courage. And she hadn’t hesitated in giving a newly widowed woman an embrace and much-needed empathy. How could a man not love such a woman?
Michael knew she felt likewise toward him. She just didn’t know it yet. But it was there in the way she’d blush slightly when he complimented her, in how she never held back her opinion, in the tightness of her breasts whenever she came near to him.
If only she wasn’t so stubborn.
Except she was asleep now, hunched in his jacket.
