He’d spent all day preparing to leave on the morrow, even requesting dinner be sent to his room. It felt wrong avoiding her, leaving instead of fighting. But it was what she wished. And his hope was still a fragile thing.
He should speak with her one final time. Say goodbye with his anger full under his command.
He opened his door.
Jane made a startled gasp and jumped backward. Then she strode toward him, hands on hips, forcing him back into his room. She kicked the door closed behind her, eyes blazing.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. Was she angry?
His body did not care how she felt with his bed so near. He could easily grab her about her waist and toss her onto it.
Well, perhaps not so easily. His one arm still pained him.
She pushed him until the back of his legs hit the bed, then she pushed him farther until he sat. “Stay there. I must say what I came to say.”
“By all means, do so, Lady Jane.”
She tilted her head. “Where were you going?”
“Do you care? Mrs. Katherine Brighton is a widow after all.”
He’d said the wrong thing. Knew it before he said it. Her face reddened, then paled, then turned the color of holly berries. Her eyes were knives. She poked a finger into his chest. “You wouldnot.”
“I would not. You’re correct. If you must know, and I see you must, I was off to find you. Fortuitous that you should be, apparently, coming to find me.”
Her coloring evened out. “I see. Yes.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” She stared at his neck, reminding him he’d stripped off his cravat some time ago.
“Why have you come in search of me? Remember, you were going to be direct. Do you wish to inquire as to my injuries? To thank me for a morning of amusement? To accept my proposal of marriage? To take a midnight stroll through the maze?”
Jane’s body relaxed, and she tapped her foot, eyeing him patiently. When he fell silent, she said, “Are you through?”
“For now. I have any number of ideas for things we could do together.”
“I’m positive you do, but I’m ignoring your current roguish behavior and reminding you, Sir George, that you are a loyal and well-behaved knight.”
“Loyal, yes. To you. Well-behaved…” He snorted. “I do not currently feel compelled toward good behavior. Do you? You are in my bedroom.”
“As I have been many times since your arrival.”
“But none of your visits have utilized the setting as thoroughly as they could have.”
Jane looked to the ceiling and seemed to attempt to inhale all the air in the room. She returned her gaze to George. “After you left, I spoke with Christiana.”
George rubbed a hand down his face. He’d had a sip too much wine this evening, and tiredness yawned through him. He pushed his hair out of his eyes. He had no more energy for flirtation. And likely not enough energy to hear of Christiana’s shenanigans. But if Jane wished it, she’d have it.
“Continue,” he said.
She folded her hands together behind her back. “She said some things that appalled me.”
“The woman often does.”
“I was not appalled at her. I was appalled atme.” Her eyes met his. “I am perhaps wrong about love.”
He sat up straighter. “Oh?”
