She stared at him. Was he accusing her? “Something woke me. I saw a light in a window of the guest wing and thought something might be wrong. The intruder started up the stairs toward me, but when I called out, he ran back down.”
A frown snapped his dark brows together. “Did you get a look at him?”
“No, he threw his candle down.”
“What about you, Jack?”
“No, milord. He wore a hat pulled low over his face. Not a big fellow, as I’ve said, and I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to take him on, but it happened so fast.”
Olivia rose and poured hot water into the teapot from the kettle on the hob. She set another cup and saucer before Redcliffe with the jug of milk and the sugar bowl.
He thanked her with a nod and poured himself a cup.
“Did you find any sign of how he got in, milord?” Jack asked.
“None of the ground floor windows have been forced, all still locked.” Redcliffe stirred sugar into his tea. “He won’t hang around.” He took a sip, his eyes meeting Olivia’s. “In fact, I doubt he’ll chance coming here again. But we’ll take precautions.”
Jack grimaced and rubbed his temples.
“I’ll fetch you the feverfew, Jack,” Olivia said. “You should rest tomorrow. I’m sure you agree, my lord.”
“Yes. In fact, I insist on it.” He raised his hand as Jack opened his mouth to object.
Clutching the feverfew, Jack left them, weaving slightly, though whether from the wound or the whiskey, Olivia couldn’t tell.
“Stay with me a moment, Miss Jenner.”
He held his cup of tea in long, lightly tanned fingers. Capable hands, she thought, distracted. “The fellow might not have been alone.” His troubled eyes searched hers. “I found no sign of a break-in, and he appeared familiar with the layout of the house. That concerns me.”
She stared at him. “Someone let him in?”
“It’s possible,” he said bluntly. “A pity we didn’t catch them at it.” He paused. “You saw no one else during your nightly excursion?”
“No.” Hurt, she drew in a breath. He didn’t trust her. But really, why should he? He knew little about her. “For a moment, I feared he would strike me down,” she said in her defense. “He held something in his hand. It flashed silver in the candlelight. It could have been a knife. When I realized he wasn’t you, I yelled your name, but I’m afraid it sounded like a raspy whisper.” Her cheeks heated. What a poor thing he would think her now. “I felt his silent menace, and it frightened me,” she explained. “I was relieved when he ran down the stairs. But then I found Jack.”
“You believed he carried a knife? And yet you followed him down and went to Jack’s aid.”
Was that irony or suspicion, or heavens above, praise? “Jack needed help. It was all I could think of.”
“And you came for me. Thank you, Miss Jenner.”
His warm appreciation when she feared he distrusted her made her absurdly grateful. She ducked her head over her cup.
Braving Redcliffe in his bed hadn’t been easy.
“I should tidy up and go to bed.” She pushed back her chair.
“You should.”
When he stood, he towered over her, causing her to hold her breath. It brought to mind the moment she’d lain against him in his bed, the sheets warm and smelling of his soap and innate maleness.
Redcliffe went to the door. He turned a hand on the door latch. “I appreciate your brave actions tonight.”
“I merely did what anyone would do, my lord.”
“But if it happens again, I will much prefer you remain in your bedchamber.”
“I will, believe me.”
