Of course Caroline would seek her out after the way Rebecca had fled the drawing room. How foolish of her to act so rashly! If Caroline discovered them together, alone, in a bedchamber, Rebecca would be forced to marry Wolfstan. That could not happen.
“Not since she left earlier, no,” Wolfstan answered.
His gravelly voice struck every chord of Rebecca’s nerves. She lifted her lashes to meet Wolfstan’s gaze. Intensity whirled in their depths.
“Oh.”
“Have you tried the greenhouse?” Wolfstan asked, his eyes not leaving Rebecca. “She always goes there whenever she is upset.”
How did he know that?
“Ah, yes, I forgot,” Caroline said. A pause. “Dinner shall be served at six.”
“Thank you, my lady, I shall join you then.”
“Ah, good . . . I shall leave you to rest then.”
They listened to the pitter-patter of Caroline disappearing down the hall. Only when Rebecca was sure her sister-in-law was gone, did she exhale a breath of relief.
“Dear Lord,” Rebecca breathed, heart pounding.
“Rebecca, we should talk.”
She leaped away from Wolfstan when he would have approached her again. She held out her hand to stop him. “Do not move an inch.”
“We must talk,” he reiterated.
“No.” She shook her head. “We will forget that this moment, and the moments before, ever happened.”
“What if I do not want to forget?”
“You must. This,” she motioned between them, “Will be gone from my mind as soon as I clear the door.”
He narrowed his eyes on her. “You imagine it will be that easy to forget my lips on yours?”
Rebecca gasped. “Do not speak of such things,” she hissed. “Have you not done enough?”
“Not nearly,” he said, voice rough. “I am done standing in Langley’s shadow.”
“You have never stood in his shadow. You are a shadow all by yourself.” Rebecca blinked. “I mean, obviously you are not a shadow.” Goodness, what was she blathering on about? “You have turned into the very devil, Wicke!”
Rebecca spun and fled the room, only to stop abruptly at the door to shoot him a splintering glare over her shoulder. “From now on, please keep your distance, you, you wolf-beast!”
It was only when Rebecca fell across her bed for a second time that she realized she hadn’t demanded the most important question of them all—why had Wicke kissed her? Why did he want her to sketchhim? Why did her heart not stop hammering in her breast?
