Page 32

“I have to go.” Frantically, she fought to think of a reason and miraculously did. “Sometimes when Jimmy’s in a strange place, he wakes up, gets frightened, and seeks me out. If I’m not in my room, he’ll panic.”

“Just give me a moment to—” Noel began, looking around for his clothes.

She opened the door.

“Damn it, Eve, wait!” he growled, as he found his drawers and started dragging them on.

That was the last thing she saw before she closed the door and fled up the stairs. Only once she reached her room and locked the door could she relax. He wouldn’t go so far as to come up here, would he? Surely not, with Maman in the room next to hers and Jimmy across the hall.

All the same, she retreated to her bed to keep herself from running back downstairs and throwing herself into his arms. She was too vulnerable to him right now. Because if she’d stayed and he’d given her his speech about Lady Margaret and his need for a boring marriage again, she might have done something truly unladylike and punched him.

She sighed. No, she would never do such an inane thing. Which was why she’d had to run away. To avoid having her heart broken.

Tears leaked from her eyes. She was as bad as he was, wasn’t she? A coward when it came to having her heart broken. Still, she didn’t regret giving herself to him. She should, but she couldn’t.

She only hoped that by tomorrow morning, she’d be ready to endure whatever he told her.

By the time Noel had donned his banyan and raced out into the hall, he could hear the door close upstairs and the key turn in the lock. Still, he hesitated, fighting the urge to march up there, pound on the door, and tell her he had to talk to her.

Because, truth was, he couldn’t act so thoughtlessly. It would awaken the whole household, and the discussion would suddenly involve more than the two of them. Also, everyone might guess what had happened, and he wouldn’t shame Eve for anything.

Besides, he needed time to plan what he meant to do. Of course, he would marry Eve. The minute he’d agreed to take her to bed, he’d known what it meant. But by then he hadn’t cared, because after hearing her relate how she’d dealt with her own pain and losses, he’d realized he couldn’t watch her walk out of his life. She was too precious to him.

Besides, he was in love with her.

The thought stunned him. How could that be, when he’d protected himself so carefully? He’d worked so hard to resist Eve, to keep his own heart safe. Obviously, he’d failed.

And never had failure felt so much like success. Because the idea of having Eve for his own, of spending his days and nights with her, of watching her bear his children, didn’t feel nearly as alarming as it had before. It felt downright wonderful.

He could no more marry Margaret now than he could fly to the moon. But even though he’d never made a formal offer to Margaret, he did owe her something of an explanation. Margaret had been expecting an offer. It would be callous to let that continue.

Wandering back to the bed, he saw the blood on the sheets and groaned. Not that it surprised him all that much—he’d been sure Eve was an innocent, even when she was playing the seductress. But it just reminded him he’d been a fool not to tell her how he felt about her as soon as they’d finished making love.

He should have said something sooner. Removing the sheet from the bed, he threw it into the fire. At least he could preserve her reputation. Then tomorrow, he would offer her marriage, even if he had to do it at the breakfast table, in front of everyone. One way or the other, he’d make sure she knew he meant to marry her.

Only after he’d decided that, was he able to climb under the covers and sleep.

He awoke to the scratching at the servant’s door that signaled the entrance of his valet, who came in with a cheery smile and a tray containing coffee and a newspaper. “Good morning, my lord.”

“Good morning. Are the ladies up yet?”

He couldn’t see Eve soon enough.

“They are, but they’re working in the schoolroom upstairs— something about adding final touches to Miss Archer’s gown to match her slippers. They asked that you and young Master James not bother them. I told them that you were taking Master James to the tailor this morning at eleven, anyway, to have any necessary alterations made to his clothing for this evening.”

“Damn, I forgot about that.” A glance at the clock told him he’d be late if he didn’t hurry.

“Of course, Mrs. Archer yet again voiced her objections to having you take that responsibility on yourself, but the viscountess explained why it was necessary to present young Master James as looking more gentlemanly, and she and Miss Archer acquiesced.”

He wasn’t sure what that meant for his own chances with Eve, but it couldn’t hurt, surely. Hastily, he got dressed and headed downstairs, only to be met by James at the stairs.

“I get my new clothes today, don’t I?” the lad asked.

“You do.” Noel checked his watch. “And we need to go this minute, I’m afraid.”

The trip to the tailor took longer than he’d anticipated, since a few alterations had been required, and they’d had to wait for them. By the time they returned to the town house, the ladies had gone over to St. James’s Palace where the competition was being held, so they could help the ladies from Mrs. Pawsey’s School set things up and decorate. His butler told him they would return home in time to dress for the evening.

Frustrated by his present inability to gain a moment alone with Eve, he asked, “Do you know when?”