That was a lie.
Desire coiled in her belly. She could school her thoughts, but not the flush of her skin, nor the pulse that thrummed in her throat, nor the ache she dared not name.
“Intimacy is the last thing I crave.” He adjusted himself with a subtle shift of his stance. “Sometimes a man has no control over his body’s … responses.”
“Thank you for being honest.” She draped the nightgown over the screen, smoothing her hand over the silk. “You’re right. No more garden trysts. You may rule your world, but you could never give me what I need.” She had to remember that. She prayed she remembered that.
He swallowed as though his throat were dry. “And what is it you need, aside from someone to save you from the noose?”
She could have deflected. Offered a clever remark. But the truth pressed hard against her ribs. “A home. A family.Love. The enduring kind. I’d like to be someone’s everything, and would rather wander the world alone than settle for anything less.”
He exhaled slowly, the moment stretching.
He knew he fell short.
A sharp knock punctuated the silence.
“That will be the wine. And our clothes.”
He moved to the door, and she took a moment to breathe.
How was she here?
In a den of vice, with this man. A daughter too numb to grieve her father, yet could kiss a scoundrel in a moonlit garden. A runaway hunted by the law.
Her life was nothing but a fantasy.
An idyllic cottage in Scotland that might not exist. Another at Shadowmere that shouldn’t feel like home, but it did. A suitor who kissed as though she were the air he needed to breathe. In truth, he was merely satisfying an itch.
“What the hell do you want?” Mr Hawke snapped, dragging her from her reverie. “Perhaps you have a death wish, madam.”
Daphne stepped closer to the door, meeting the woman’s harried gaze. “Mrs Foster?” So she had recognised her. “Can we help you? Weren’t you attending to the gentleman across the hall?”
Her father’s paramour had thrown a wool cloak over her harem costume, clutching it tight to her generous chest. The kohl lining her eyes was smudged, black streaking her cheeks. Her greying blonde hair was a hopeless tangle. Strawberry juice stained her chin.
Mrs Foster made to step over the threshold, but Mr Hawke blocked her way. “If you’ve something to say to Miss Harland, say it to me.”
The woman peered over his broad shoulder. “Your poor aunt thinks you’re dead,” she whispered, trying to push past him, but he had no intention of moving. “She believes the man who harmed Jacob hurt you too. She’s been out day and night searching. Even hired a retired runner from Bow Street.”
Daphne doubted her aunt cared in any true, maternal way. Not after pushing the match with Mr Irving. She was likely hunting her down now, ready to drag her to the altar and collect her ten thousand pounds.
“I left a note.” A note saying she couldn’t marry Mr Irving. She had a gift for endurance. Just not enough to suffer that slobbering fool.
Mrs Foster crouched slightly as she tried to peer around Mr Hawke’s frame. “She never mentioned a note. Only that something dreadful must have happened to you as well.” Her wary gaze shifted to Mr Hawke. “It seems she has every reason to fear the worst.”
Mr Hawke gave a mirthless chuckle as he looked down at the woman. “Typical. Save her, and I’m the villain. Try to sell her off, and you’re mourned like a saint.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
Not when he was prepared to pay the Moseley brothers an extortionate sum. And she had the odd suspicion he’d thump Mr Irving if their paths crossed.
“Save her?” Mrs Foster’s unladylike snort rang through the corridor. “You’ve dragged her to a pariah’s pit. Her dear papa is dead, killed by you no?—”
“I have an alibi. A handful of witnesses who can vouch for my whereabouts.” He reached for the doorknob. “Good night, madam. Enjoy your strawberries.”
Mrs Foster sprang upright and shoved at the door, forcing herself between the frame and jamb. “Please, let me take youhome, Miss Harland. We’ll leave together. Lord Ainsley will protect us. We can?—”
“Ainsley?” Mr Hawke gave a dry laugh. “Fetch him. Let’s see if he plays the intrepid hero once he sees the mark.”
