A familiar ache stirred.
Something softer settled in his chest.
“What are you doing here? You gave me a fright.”
He rubbed his eyes. “Forgive me. I know it’s late. There’s something I must give you. Something I want to say that can’t wait.”
Her gaze moved to the ruby necklace in his hand. “You forgot to return it to the jeweller? Good Lord, you’ve had it a week.”
The chair creaked as he shifted. “It was never on loan. I bought it for you. I’ve carried it in my pocket ever since.”
She looked at the necklace, then at him, and reached the wrong conclusion. “Dominic, we’ve discussed this. You don’t need to make amends for what happened in Lord Templeton’s ballroom.”
“That’s not why I bought it.”
“I hear Mr Woodcroft can sell sand in the desert, but you’re not a man who succumbs to pressure.”
Why did she not see the obvious answer? Because he’d made her believe he was ruled by duty, not his heart.
“I bought it because I wanted to own something you’dworn.” He paused. He daren’t confess how many times he’d held it and thought of her. “I have a strange compulsion to buy you the world.”
Her breath came a little quicker. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you I’m not the soulless devil I’d have you believe?”
She smiled. “Your quest for revenge told me everything I needed to know about you. A soulless man doesn’t risk his life for a mother who died a decade ago.” She gave a small shrug. “And you brought me fire tools. A heartless devil wouldn’t care if I was cold.”
“Am I so transparent?” His gaze dropped to the open buttons of her nightgown. He’d come to regret never knowing the heat of her skin.
“My mother taught me to judge a man by his actions. I could list the ways you’ve been kind to me.”
“Except when I stole your voice.”
He brushed his thumb over the ruby.
“Yes, except then.” She winced as though the memory pained her. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to leave Shadowmere. To leave you.”
“You said the truest measure of a woman’s affections is that she stays when she’s free to leave.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. “What was I supposed to think?”
“I wasn’t free. You put me in shackles when your pride answered for me. But that’s not the reason I sent for Charlotte.” She stood, pulling her hand from his knee. “I couldn’t bear another night there, surrounded by heathens.”
He shot to his feet, drawing her up with him. “You don’t think I could protect you?”
“It doesn’t matter. To stay is to condone it.”
He drew a calming breath. “You know my reasons forhosting them. The house my mother gave her life to save would have fallen into ruin.”
She shook her head as if he were a boy who couldn’t solve the simplest puzzle. “She didn’t give her life to save the house. Everything she did was to save you.”
He turned away, her words cutting to the bone.
His mother would not recognise him now.
“I like the power,” he admitted, staring at the wall.
“The true measure of power is having command over yourself.”
“You think I don’t know my own mind? You’d rather I smooth the coarse edges, become a man you could admire?”
