“I have not been home.”
“You ran from me at the theatre.”
“I did not.”
Bloody hell, she might as well have stomped her foot and stuck her tongue out.“You are acting the child.”
“No, I am not.”
He shoved a hand in his hair.“You’ve run off and now you won’t see me.You won’t tell me what’s wrong.What would you call that?”
“I have been busy, Benedict.”
“Fine.Let us say you have been busy.I have not seen you in eight days, El.”
“We have not seen each other for longer before.”
“Because I was out of the country,” he exploded.Taking a deep breath, he exhaled steadily.Christ, he needed to calm down.
He studied her.She stared down, her fingers worrying the folds of her gown.His heart squeezed.He hated seeing her so wretched.“What is wrong, El?Is this because of the Earl and Caraney House?”
Her gaze flew to his.Finally.
“Because he knows nothing.He has said nothing.Not in the eight days since.”Fine, perhaps he couldn’t prevent himself from being a tad petty.
She stared at him.“He almost caught us, Benedict,” she burst out.
“But he didn’t,” he countered.“And what’s more, he does not know who I was with.”
“We were almost caught, Benedict,” she hissed.“By yourbrother.”
“That only means we should be more careful—” She was shaking her head.His breath exploded.“What, El?What is the bloody problem?”
“Of course you do not understand.It is notyouwho will suffer.
That was bloody unfair.“Yousaid you did not much care what society thought.Or was that only when it was Malvern.Are you ashamed of us?”
“Do not try to twist it.You know what it would mean should we be discovered.Youknow.”
“The worst that would happen is we would marry.”For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine it.El as his bride.El as his wife.El heavy with their child.A son with her eyes.A daughter with her spirit.Christ.He wanted it so much he could barely breathe.
She had frozen, her face pale.“El?Are you ill?”
“I cannot be married,” she said in an almost inaudible voice.
Bloody hell.Her mother and father.The screaming.“El…”
She lifted her chin and met his eyes.A chill ran down his spine.“This was only ever meant to be temporary.”
“You do not mean that.”There wasnothingtemporary about what he felt.What’s more, he would wager there was nothing temporary for her either.
“Perhaps this is a sign it has run its course.”She was pale.So fucking pale.
Panic jittered through him.They could not end like this.Not because of his fuckingbrother.
“It hasnotrun its course.”Wrapping his arm about her waist, he hauled her to him.Her hands flew to his shoulders as he took her mouth in a fierce kiss.She opened to him, her moan setting him aflame, her hands sliding into his hair to hold him to her.
“It has not run its course,” he rasped again against her mouth.
