Her forehead wrinkled. “No, my lord. Itwasn’t locked.”
Gideon dragged his hands roughly through his hair. “It must have been locked, Cecilia. Every servant in this castle knows they’re never to enter this room. I’ve given explicit instructions to that effect, and ordered the doors be lockedat all times.”
“Well, someone must have come in, and forgotten to lock it when they left.”
“Are you accusing my servants of negligence?” Gideon’s voice was cold. “If so, I’ll remind you that you’re the newcomer here. I’m far less likely to credit your account of the matter thanany of theirs.”
“I beg your pardon, Lord Darlington. I’m not accusing anyone of anything. I don’t like to disagree with you, but the door was most decidedly not locked. If it had been, how do you suppose I got in here? Slid under the crackat the bottom?”
Gideon raised an eyebrow at her tone and the flash of temper in those dark eyes. Ever since their disagreement over the blue ribbons she’d been careful around him, confining herself toyes, my lords, andno, my lords, but her sharp tonguewas back again.
“You haven’t answered my question, Cecilia.” Gideon fixed a stern gaze on her. “What are you doing in my late wife’s bedchamber?”
“I’m trying to tell you, my lord. I heard a strange noise, and came to see what it was.”
Gideon’s eyes narrowed on her face. Had someone been sneaking about in Cassandra’s bedchamber before she came in? “Whatsort of noise?”
“It was a scratching sound, like fingernails on wood, or so I thought. It turned out to be claws. There was a cat trapped in the clothes press in the dressing room, and it was clawing at the door to get out.”
“Acat?” How in the world would a cat find its way into a sealed bedchamber? It seemed a flimsy story. “I don’t see any cat.”
“Well, no, my lord. She’s gone now. She fled when you broke down the bedchamber door.”
Gideon glanced at the broken lock lying in pieces on the floor. It would have to be repaired at once. He wouldn’t have people traipsing about Cassandra’s bedchamber.
“It’s terribly cold in here.” Cecilia wrapped her arms around her waist with a shiver. “I noticed it as soon as I entered. It’s much colder than it shouldbe, isn’t it?”
Gideon stared at her, becoming uncomfortably aware she was wearing only a thin night rail, and though the bedchamber was dark, he could see the gentle rise and fall of her bosom under the filmy fabric in the muted light from the hallway. Her hair was unbound, tumbling in a thick, dark cascade of waves over her shoulders, and her feet were bare. Her dainty, naked toes looked strangely vulnerable, and the way her night rail swirled around the long, pale line of her legs was oddly riveting.
Sudden warmth pooled in his lower belly and his skin prickled with heat as he realized how near she was, how tempting the smooth, pale skin under the thin covering of her night rail. It was only the impropriety of their situation that made him notice, of course—the lure of the forbidden that heated his blood and stirred long-dormant urges he’d thought gone forever.
He averted his gaze, shifting uneasily. It was scandalously improper for him, a betrothed man who claimed to be a gentleman, to be standing alone in a darkened bedchamber with his housemaid, who was clad in nothing more than a sheer night rail. Gideon took a hasty step away from her, clearing his throat. “I wish to speak to you in my study, Cecilia. Dress yourself, and attend me there at once.”
He didn’t wait for her to reply, but turned his back on her and passed through the connecting door and into his niece’s room. Isabella was tucked safely into her bed, her cheeks flushed with sleep, her thick curls wild around her head.
Gideon’s heart clenched with the tenderness he always felt when he gazed at his niece. Isabella didn’t resemble his late brother at all, but when Gideon looked at her, he thought only of Nathanial, the brother he’d loved and still missed with the same sharp ache as when he’d died more than three years ago.
But Gideon didn’t linger over Isabella this time. He passed into the hallway, closing the door behind him, and made his way back down the stairs to his study, his stomach tight. He had some business with Cecilia, and the sooner it was done, the better.
Chapter Seven
“Dismissed?” Cecilia’s thoughts ground to a halt, her mind going blank.
She shouldn’t be as shocked as she was, but somehow it wasn’t what she’d expected Lord Darlington to say. He had every right to be angry with her, of course. She’d broken the rules of the house by entering the late marchioness’s bedchamber. She hadn’t expected he’d be pleased about it, but for all his glowering, she hadn’t thought he’ddismissher before giving her another chance to explain herself.
But the man who’d been waiting for her on the other side of the study door tonight was not the same calm, forbearing gentleman of this morning. The patience he’d shown over the coal scuttle incident had vanished, leaving the Lord Darlington with the icy blue eyes in his wake.
Thiswas the other Lord Darlington, the one she met the day she arrived. The black-clad avenging fury who’d crept out of the woods and accosted her beside Darlington Lake.Thiswas the Lord Darlington who’d called her a liar.
He was a dozen different men in one body, it seemed, each version contradicting the others. Murderer or doting uncle? Cold spouse or loving husband? Kind, generous employer, or haughty arrogant marquess? No sooner would Cecilia begin to suspect he was a cold-blooded killer than he’d do something like rock his niece to sleep, and it would sether wondering.
And now he was dismissing her—again—without allowing her to utter a single word in her defense.
It took some moments of private fuming before Cecilia realized she was truly angry. She shouldn’t be. Shehadn’t grown any fonder of Darlington Castle in the day she’d been under its roof. It remained as grim and sinister as it had since she’d first passed under that dreadful portcullis.If she were in her right mind, she’d turn on her heel without another word, run upstairs to pack her case, and demand to be taken away tonight.
So, no one was more surprised than she when she did precisely the opposite, but her temper was roused now, and there was no way she’d end her time at Darlington Castle with another timidyes, my lord.
Instead, she remained where she was.“No, my lord.”
