“I’m very sorry for your loss. I must admit, I’m extremely worried about my sister. I’ve never seen her so sick. And the doctor doesn’t give much hope of a quick recovery, especially if she goes over three days of having a high fever.”
He gently squeezed her hand. “Then we must not let the fever go that long.”
“Your servants have been most attentive. I shall never be able to repay your kindness, my lord.”
“Think nothing of it, my sweet Bridget. I’m just relieved my servants are so quick to assist.”
She didn’t have the energy—or the heart—to pull away. The warmth from his hand merged with hers, creating a sense of comfort. If she didn’t think she would fall asleep, she would happily stare into his beautiful hazel eyes all night.
Using her other hand, she sipped her wine, mainly to bring moisture back into her dry mouth and throat. “Adrian, I must apologize for our afternoon plans being ruined.”
“There is no need to apologize. We can always give you a tour when your sister is feeling better.”
She placed her glass of wine back on the table and turned toward him. “I am, however, still intrigued about what has been happening to you and your brother.”
His eyes widened, and he chuckled. “I had actually forgotten about that.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Are you sure you want to hear it? As tired as you are, you might doze off on me.”
She laughed. “I promise to stay alert.”
He glanced at her plate of half-eaten food. “Are you finished? Perhaps we could adjourn to the sitting room.”
“Yes, I’m finished.”
They both stood at the same time, and he offered his arm. As she slipped her hand around his elbow, she fought the urge to cuddle against him. They walked toward the sitting room, and she realized how hard it was not to stare at his handsome profile. He moved with such grace and elegance that she felt privileged to be the woman beside him. Indeed, he wasn’t the scoundrel she first thought, but instead, a true gentleman.
They reached the sitting room and sat together on the settee. Thankfully, he left the door open, but she almost wished he would close it. Then again, her mind was tired, and she knew it would be hard to fight the impulses she received every time they were alone.
His shoulders relaxed. “Well, I need not tell you about Collin getting shot at because you were there—however, more things have been happening to him, as well as to me.”
“Tell me.”
He explained to her about the saddle girth being cut, the stairs’ railing being broken, the plant falling over the banister, and lastly the person wearing a black cape who had been hiding behind the oak tree in the yard. She tried hard to listen to what he was saying, but the hypnotic sound of his deep voice, mixed with his entrancing eyes, had put her under a spell. She couldn’t stop admiring his masculine face. It was as if a famous sculptor had chiseled every detail, from Adrian’s high forehead to his straight nose and high cheekbones, down to those tempting lips that made her stomach flutter just from thinking about them pressed against her mouth. His broad shoulders and broad chest tapered to slim hips. She had been in his embrace enough times to know how muscular he was.
When he paused, she quickly focused on what he had been telling her. “What did your brother find when he went outside to search for the person in the black cape?”
“Collin didn’t find anything. It was as if the person just disappeared.”
“Did you hear nothing after your brother left the manor? Any footsteps or doors closing that might announce a servant coming inside?”
“Nothing.” His expression softened. “But then, my mind wasn’t on trying to detect footsteps or the doors closing. It was preoccupied with the very lovely and intriguing woman who had come to visit.”
Her cheeks warmed from his confession that he had been thinking about her, too. “Were you perhaps cursing me in your mind because I had come at the wrong time?”
“On the contrary, my lovely Bridget.” He stretched his arm across the back of the settee behind her, which moved him closer to her. “My recollection is that I had been, in fact, thinking about your smell.”
Inwardly, she groaned. She smelled like the farm again, she just knew it. “Mysmell?”
“Yes, your exhilarating lilac scent that has been on my mind ever since we were in the pantry.”
He leaned closer as his face fell to her neck. She held her breath as her heartbeat sped out of control. He brushed away the ringlets resting on her shoulder with his fingers, and his knuckles touched her neck. Pleasurable shivers ran through her, and she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t want to.
He inhaled deeply before very slowly pulling away. When his eyes met hers, she recognized the look of passion she had witnessed on his face so many times since meeting him. But whether it was because she was so tired or if it was because she really wanted him to kiss her, she didn’t know… as long as a kiss followed shortly.
“Your scent is unforgettable,” he whispered. “I smell you everywhere, it seems. Even in my dreams.”
