Maggie frowned. He’d what? Should he leave banknotes in a secret place in the garden? Have his man of business meet with her man of business? She didn’t have a man of business. She’d have to do it herself. So maybe she’d have to ask him to meet her at midnight in an abandoned part of the house with … how much money? A thousand pounds? Was that asking too much? Hm. How much did they owe servants? She’d have to ask Raph. “Gah!” Maggie flung herself backward into her pillows. Who knew blackmail would be so difficult?
She sat up again and started sketching, letting her mind ponder the problems as her hand curved across the page. Tobias’s waistcoats had held no special design that evening. Pity. They were clever. No, brilliant. Could she do one? She licked her lips and merged her thoughts with her hand’s actions, trying to make a sketch where one thing looked like another. What if she turned a rose into a biscuit? She sketched, then she leaned back and surveyed her work. “Not too bad.” But why the transformation? It made no sense. There was no connection between the flower and the sweet. The rose would work better as … she tapped her pencil on her bottom lip. An eye! She set pencil to paper once more, and when she’d finished, held it out and cocked her head, evaluating. “It works, I think.” She grinned. “Yes, I believe I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Ack!” The notebook flew from Maggie’s hands and into the air as she jumped at the man’s voice. Her heart raced, but he stood cool as an autumn breeze in the doorway. “Tobias! What in heaven’s name are you doing here?”
He stepped farther into the room and shut the door softly behind him. “You’ve seen my bedroom. It’s only fair I see yours.”
Shadows flickered across his face, illuminating his golden curls, and oh, she’d never been tempted as she was now. What was it about him that drew her so?
“What have you drawn?” he asked, craning his neck to peer at the notebook that had fallen open on the bed beside her.
“Nothing!” She scrambled to retrieve the notebook, then slammed it shut, clutching it to her chest.
He grinned and lifted one brow. Her heart swooned. She pushed the attraction away. The man she married would be practical, stable, serious, and would never have considered drawing a cow or shaping a woman’s hair from marble in his entire life. He’d not have to worry where his next meal came from, as artists were wont to do.
She hugged the notebook tighter, protecting both its contents and herself. “Nothing.”
He drew nearer. “More secrets, Lady Magnificent?”
She shoved the notebook under her backside. If she sat on it, he’d have to physically move her to see it.
“That eager to keep whatever it holds private? Fine. But perhaps you’ll reveal all once you’ve heard what I’ve come to say.”
She frowned at him. She wanted to ask what he’d come to her room for, but something nagged at her, just as his somber clothing did. He’d not made a single joke since entering her room, said not a single thing smacking of absurdity. “Are you ill?”
He leaned against her bedpost with a frown. “No. Why?”
She waved at him from feet to hair. “This. Blacks and whites and not a single ridiculous statement since you entered my room. You are not yourself, sir.”
“And you know me so well after only a few days?”
“You forget, I knew of you before you knew of me. I’d been observing you for weeks before I snuck into your room.” His eyes, searing and intense, startled her, and she looked at her hands in her lap instead. “I do, I believe, know you quite well.” She’d not meant to whisper her words, but his closeness unnerved her, and she still did not know the reason for his presence in her room.
“I told you once, I can be serious when I wish, and that is both the reason for my appearance and for seeking you out in private this evening.”
“I don’t understand.”
He nodded at the bed. “May I sit next to you, Maggie?”
God, yes.Please, she wanted to beg. “I suppose you may.”
His weight on the mattress shifted her body toward his, and when their shoulders brushed, Tobias chuckled and pushed her gently back toward the center of the bed. “Stay where you are, Pocket Princess. No debauching me tonight. I’m here for an honorable purpose.”
A cacophony of emotions rang through Maggie’s body. First, delight that his teasing tone was back. Second, the thrill of his touch and the silly endearment. Third, alarm. Honorable purpose? That could only mean one thing.
He pierced her with a truly serious gaze.
She gulped. “Oh no.”
He tugged at his cravat. “Not words any man wants to hear before he says what I have to say.” She opened her mouth to repeat those dreaded words, but he placed his palm over her lips. “No. Not again, thank you very much. I must say what I’ve come to say first. Will you allow it?”
Would he let her throw him from the room without having said his piece? She studied him. Yes, she rather thought he would, if she actually insisted on it. She nodded, signaling for him to speak.
He dropped his hand from her mouth, but not before he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. Stars exploded inside her and skittered across her skin.
“You asked me once if I am ever serious. And, half joking, I told you yes. But I answered you more truthfully than I let on. Frankly, I don’t do much without serious thought first. I wore these clothes to show you that. I came to your room to prove it to you. This afternoon, we played a game, but we did not play for any sort of victory. Let’s play that game again, but this time for a prize.” The corner of his lip quirked up and he reached for her, ran the back of his hand down her neck in a light yet exquisite caress that sent ripples throughout Maggie’s body. “Let’s tell one another our secrets.”
