He stiffened, tensing beneath her ministrations. “Evie—”
“Theo,” she interrupted. “We have become friends over this past fortnight, have we not? And, dare I say, more than that, I hope.”
His jaw clenched. “We cannot be friends or…more. Our worlds are too far apart. Look at me. This is who I am. Tonight, I beat a man unconscious with these fists.”
He held up his hands, showing them off, one still covered in dried blood.
She swallowed. “Is that why you truly went to the East End? To prove to yourself we are too different?”
“I told you why. I need to find out who is responsible for trying to hurt you.”
“Because you care,” she said softly, taking his other hand in hers and beginning to clean it as well.
“Because I no longer want you to be my problem.” His lip curled. “So you can become Lady Dullerton.”
He was trying to hurt her, doing his best to build a divide between them. But she was not going to allow him to do it. “What if I no longer wish to become Lady Denton?”
He rose from the chair abruptly, forcing her to take a step in retreat as he towered over her. “You do not know what you are saying, milady.”
“I know what I am saying.” She also knew what she was not saying, because it was too terrifying to reveal just now, when she was not certain of his feelings. “This fortnight has been a revelation for me. I have realized the marriage I was willing to settle for is no longer what I want.”
What she did want was him. If only he would allow it. But she kept that to herself as well.
“And you know all this after a mere fortnight?” He gave a bitter laugh. “Only a cossetted duke’s daughter would be so fickle.”
“Stop thinking of me as a duke’s daughter. Start thinking of me as a woman.”
He made a low sound in his throat. Part growl, part grunt. “I have thought of you as little else from the moment I first set eyes on you, damn it. That is the problem. I do not belong in your world, and you have no place in mine. You have taken on the role of nurse remarkably well, but now your job is done. Go back to your chamber where you belong and get some rest.”
How did he suppose she could sleep, leaving things between them like this?
“I will not go until you tell me what happened.”
“Prizefighting.”
“Boxing?” she repeated.
He shrugged. “I went looking for answers. When I’d gotten all the information I could, I stayed for a boxing match. Won fifty beans.”
She supposed fifty beans was fifty guineas.
“You were not hurt because of me?” she pressed, needing to know.
“If you think I’m hurt, you should see O’Neal.” He shrugged, as if fisticuffs, blood, and a blackened eye were of little consequence. “You’ve had your answer. Go to your chamber now. I’m tired and I need some rest.”
She was not going yet. “You did not answer my question.”
“I was not hurt because of you. The fight was for me.”
“For you?” She searched his gaze, struggling to comprehend. “Why?”
“To keep me from touching you,” he growled. “Now. Get. Out.”
To keep him from touching her?
The change within her was happening again. Something was shifting in her heart. Melting and filling her with warmth. Love seeping into all the shadows, casting its undeniable light.
She held her ground, refusing to retreat this time. “What if I want you to touch me?”
