“What did he say?” Nora prodded.
Jamie looked down at her. “He said, ‘This will be your room when you are married.’” She felt the blood drain from her face, and then, in a rush of heat, pour back in.
“Excellent blush, my dear,” Jamie whispered. “That is exactly what we want him to report to our nosy count.”
He dropped her hand and strode to an interior door. It opened on a massive, empty dressing room. “My shirts will get lost in here,” he said.
She pushed past him. The door on the other side of the dressing room opened to a pleasant little sitting room.
“Perhaps it is behind that door yonder,” Jamie said. “The lady of the house’s chamber? Isn’t that what you wanted to see?”
How had he guessed? Surely there would be separate chambers.When they married, if they married, there would have to be separate chambers.
Another door opened off the sitting room. They looked into the room together. A delicately crafted bed and flowered hangings proclaimed it to be what Nora hoped. The richness and beauty of the chamber lay far beyond anything she would have known to hope for in Dorset.
She looked up at Jamie. Concern, caution, and a lack of sleep all registered in the slant of his mouth, the slump of his shoulders, and the lines around his eyes.No drink. She felt sure of that. Relief filled her.When did he last sleep?
“We can manage this,” she said.
“We won’t have to,” he retorted.
“But if we marry?—”
“When we marry,” he said, loud enough for their hound to hear, “this will be perfect.”
Does Jamie expect to contract a real marriage? Of course not.What mattered was that the count believe it.
Robert’s man, or the count’s man she now understood, conducted the rest of the tour quickly and with little detail. Perhaps he had seen what he needed to see.
When they arrived back at the entrance hall, he produced the keys but did not hand them over. A spate of Italian and answering words followed. The two men disagreed about something.
“He wishes to hire servants for you,” Jamie said.
“Of course,” Nora said, relieved. “I can afford it, and the house is large.”
“You can afford a staff,” he agreed. “You will need a staff for this place. I told him you would do it yourself.”
She puzzled out his point; it didn’t take long.If this man spies for Castellimonte, so will any servants he hires.
“I certainly can,” she replied, looking at the man. “I wouldn’t think of putting him out or inconveniencing the Count di Castellimonte for something as mundane as hiring servants.”
Jamie’s lips twitched. She made out the count’s name when he translated and saw the little man’s agitation.
The hound clutched the keys to his chest; Jamie held out his hand in an unmistakable gesture of command. Capello glared, but he handed over the keys. When Jamie passed them to Nora, the man paled. He said nothing and made no move to leave; he remained rooted in place as if he expected more.
Nora had no warning. The feel of Jamie’s arms startled her; the touch of his mouth on hers crushed her. Knees buckled. Sensation muddled her brain so badly she almost missed the words he whispered against her lips. “Give him something to report. We may as well make it good.”
Her world exploded. Nora’s mouth softened under Jamie’s, and he nudged hers open. His gentle invasion set her reeling. After what felt like a lifetime, he slid his hands to her elbows and put her away from him with a wink.Cheeky man.
The count’s little watchdog scuttled off under Jamie’s fierce glare. Nora slumped against Jamie. He put a steadying arm around her and watched the man go.
“That report should be interesting,” he said, dropping his arm and putting distance between them. Nora was shaken and thoroughly disgusted that what had rocked her to her core meant nothing to him apart from show.
Four hourslater Jamie could still taste that kiss. He had meant a simple salute to her lips, but, once tasted, he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t regret the passion, even if it meant nothing to Nora beyond fooling the count’s little spy.
Jamie approached the embassy for a second day after a night of tossing about for some way to both salvage his pride and keep Nora safe. He found none.
Wentworth’s clerk’s knowing smirk did nothing to soothe his foul humor.
