I sighed dramatically. “You said it with such demand, though. Like I am a piece for you to move around in a game of chess. Do this, do that, whatever you want because ultimatelyIam in control.”
Again, the quiet contemplation. “But Iamin control.”
I turned round and lifted my candle toward the sleeping Flora in her stall. “You are never in control of another person, Marlow. No matter how much you wish it. No matter if you are a duke or even a king. Our minds and our hearts are our own. And beyond that, a person’s choices define them. It is unwise to insist I do whatever I want, without either of us giving thought to the consequences.”
Flora’s foot jerked in her sleep. We watched her together in a moment of shared, quiet contemplation. Just when I thought he would not speak, he shifted toward me.
“How old are you?”
I could not decide if he was in earnest or somehow teasing me. And for some reason I felt defensive. “Twenty. How old are you?”
“Thirty. And yet I feel you are markedly older than I. Wiser, certainly.”
Why was he being so kind to me this evening? Wise? Me? “Funny, because I gauged your years at least forty for how cantankerous you are.”
“Forty, deuces.” He laughed, and I marveled at the way it brightened his otherwise serious expression. “You need spectacles. I am not so aged.”
I smirked, admitting, “No, you are not.”
He lifted his aristocratic chin. “In fact, I am told I’m rather handsome.”
His gaze searched mine. For what? A reaction? A compliment? Ronald and I had never spoken like this. If anyone else had tried, I’d never paid attention. Oh, I could bat my lashes, smile coyly, offer hollow compliments. But this sort of back and forth, this searching each other’s mind, teasing out truths to get to the heart of someone else’s opinion—that was foreign to me.
And dangerous ground, coming from the Duke of Marlow who had Lady Diana to think of.
Perhaps all he wanted was a little confidence. A stroke of his ego for Drury Lane tomorrow. He knew the truth, anyway; he just wanted to hear me say it. So, I leaned in as though sharing a secret. “You are very handsome, Your Grace ...”
His eyes widened as though in pleased surprise, and he leaned in closer too. Close enough for me to see the freckle under his bottom lip. And even though we had ample space around us now, I felt the same as I had in the passageway. Like it was just us, the duke and me, enclosed together in a narrow space. I worried he might touch me again.
I worried that I wanted him to.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, weakening my knees.
My lips parted with a breath. “... In an evil villain sort of way.”
A grin split his face. He bit his bottom lip. “Ah, yes. I’d almost forgotten my titular role this evening. Shall I draw you out into a dark graveyard and let the ghosts whisk you away?”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, and the motion drew back his gaze. “I don’t think you could stomach it. Your conscience would eat away at you.”
His eyes moved around my face. “On the contrary, I am not yet forty. I have no conscience for another decade yet.”
“Ridiculous man,” I teased, giving my attention back to Flora.
I felt him tug gently on the fabric of my robe as though to draw me closer, but when I looked up, he was watching Flora, playing mindlessly with my strings.
He was no villain. Not really. Just an endearing man with a hidden heart and hopes for his future.
A good man who deserved the very best for his future.
I pushed off the stall door and nudged him playfully with my shoulder as I passed. Perhaps I’d see Flora tomorrow. Likely not, with Her Grace insisting I be present for morning calls and Drury Lane later in the afternoon and evening. With how scheduled she kept our time, there was a very real chance I’d never see Flora again.
I opened the stable house door and stepped down onto a dirt pathway and into cool, clarifying air. Overhead, glinting stars scattered around the full moon. It was beautiful. As good a view as London could provide. The great house was to our right.
Marlow, with candle in hand, followed me out. “You werenot impressed with my passageway nor my stables.” He drew up to my side.
I was, I just could not admit to it. Especially not with him looking at me with such earnestness, such boyish hope. “Udolpho’s ghosts are better. And there are no rats.”
He rolled his eyes heavenward. “Udolpho, Udolpho. How can a man ever measure up?”
