“You were gone for a week.”
He stepped out from the shadows. “Did you miss me, Rebecca?”
She snorted. “Obviously not. You left me in the cold to walk back home.”
“I sent the carriage to you after I reached the castle.”
“If you mean that as a consolation, you can keep it for yourself.”
“I’m sorry,” Wolfstan murmured, his voice low. “I acted out of anger.”
“Anger at finding me with Mr. Lance or anger over my sketch?”
He snatched her hand in his. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere we can talk in private.” He led her into the nearest room—a drawing room—and shut the door, locking it in place. He turned to her. “You’re not in love with Langley.”
“No, I am not.”
“Not infatuated either.”
She shook her head.
“The sketches were just as you described.”
“Fantasies of a young girl,” she confirmed.
“And what about your first kiss? I stole that.”
“Yes, you did.” Her lips twisted into a small smile. “I do not regret it as much as I did then.”
Wolfstan nodded. Some of the tension eased. Some.
“You never corrected me about Langley.”
“Perhaps I chose to be a lady, and wait for your assumption to pass.”
The corner of his lips lifted. “Fair enough.”
They stared at each other.
“You went to London.”
“I had some matters to investigate.” Christ, she was beautiful. “What I found was completely unexpected.”
“And that is?” she whispered.
She looked so innocent. Did she truly not suspect? “I found you.”
“I . . .” The crease in her brows deepened. Then she gasped. “You sought out Mr. Lance. Youknow.”
“You are the elusive owner of Knightley’s.”
Some of the color left her face, but she did not deny it. “I ought to have known you would never let it go. Still, it was not Mr. Lance’s secret to share.”
Wolfstan shook his head, still annoyed by that particular confrontation. “The man is tightlipped as they come. But my suspicions raised, I tracked down the solicitor that managed the club’s deed and threatened to beat him within an inch of his life. He gave me the details.”
