Page 26 of Discovering Her Earl

Possibly.

Probably.

“I’ll have baths brought up to each of your rooms,” the housekeeper went on. “Nettie will be tending to ye, miss, during your visit at Dalkeith.”

“Thank you, Mrs. McGregor,” Julian said.

The tiny Nettie came forward and dipped a nervous curtsey before saying, “This way, miss.”

The entourage moved up to the next floor and Julian took note that Elaina was shown to a room just two doors down from his own on the same side of the corridor.

Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if he had plans to sneak down the hall to her room in the night.

Except, he was thinking of that very thing and how convenient such an endeavor would be having her so close.

Shaking his head, he went into his own room. He must push away all thoughts of such things. Elaina was not to be trifled with. And he needed to stop thinking of her as Elaina. It was Miss Bantham.

Attempting to seduce Miss Bantham would only ruin his chances at being invited to attend the expedition in Egypt.

He would need to be careful not to offend her in the slightest.

His fate was in her hands.

Chapter Nine

After her bath, Elaina had a tray brought up so she could dine in her room. Mrs. Leighton’s letter held an apology for their delay, but it was clear from the way she spoke of her new grandson she was completely smitten and unable to tear herself away so soon after meeting the baby.

Elaina couldn’t begrudge the woman more time with her new grandchild. But it meant she was here alone with Lord Melville. In his home. Alone.

As he’d said, they’d been alone the entire journey, but it was different. Sharing a home together was somehow more intimate and she didn’t know if she was equipped to keep him at a distance under such circumstances.

She realized as she’d sat in the tub of warm water and thought of how the earl was just down the hall, she was in danger of forgetting what he’d done to make her dislike him.

Disliking him had become impossible when he’d been so kind to her. She’d hoped when they arrived at his home, she could put some space between them until she was able to assemble her irritation with the man once again.

And he was a man now, even more handsome than he’d been at two and twenty. More confident. More enticing.

She’d spent so much time with him during their journey she’d gotten to know him. To like him.

But she couldn’t forgive him. Not that he would ever ask for forgiveness. Not that he would feel remorse for what he’d done.

The familiar rush of anger came unbidden as it did most times she thought of him. She welcomed the anger and the power it had to steady her. She’d allowed him to get too close. She’d been weakened by his charm.

Seeing him with his elderly butler, the way he clearly cared about the man. A servant. Someone many lords wouldn’t even address let alone call a friend.

It confused her.

Perhaps the earl had changed over the years. She surely had.

She remembered her silly hopes and dreams when she’d been a blushing debutante. And how Melville—then known as Lord Huntly because his father still lived—had dashed them all away, leaving the angry woman she was today.

It didn’t matter if he had changed and was now an honorable man who cared for his elderly servants and read to her for hours on end in the carriage.

He needed to pay for what he’d done.

She would make sure he did.

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