“Undergarments?”
Her eyes suddenly lit up with a sparkle, and Deerhurst watched in fascination as every little aspect of her expression lifted in glee.
“Multiple items revealed themselves this morning.”
He instantly understood. His gaze darted to the sofa. “That catisalways stirring up trouble.”
She snorted. “It’s not him doing the stirring.”
Deerhurst chuckled but still couldn’t help but muse that that wasn’t entirely true. The cat had been the reason they ran into each other in his garden.
She cleared her throat. “About last night...”
He held up his hand to stop her. “You have nothing to feel alarmed about if that’s what you wish to say.”
“I behaved abominably.”
So, he’d been right. She planned to avoid him. “You were drugged.”
She looked away. “Not when I accepted your invitation. Not when I kissed you.”
“Phaedra,” he said and waited for her to meet his gaze. “I am the one who started this. I’m the one who kissed you first. I’m the one who took you to that ball. From the very first moment, if anyone’s behavior has been abominable, it’s mine.”
“That may be true, but that doesn’t excuse my actions in all of this. You’ve only ever protected me, even from myself. And I have caused you nothing but trouble.”
If only she knew.
“I don’t agree.”
The corners of her mouth lifted, but the momentary sparkle had already dimmed, and her eyes didn’t quite meet his.
Deerhurst felt panic rise.
“Be that as it may, let us end this courtship.”
He almost doubled over as the punch of her request hit him square in the gut. He’d once ended a courtship. An ugly business that later evolved into an affair that ended in pain and anguish. Some for him. Some for her. Back then he hadn’t been worthy of her. Not to marry, at least. But she couldn’t let go either. Not entirely. And he’d sought validation in all the wrong ways.
He had never found it.
So, he had stopped looking for it. Period.
But this...
The mess of his past could not compare to these simple words spoken from Phaedra’s lips. They struck him in a place he had thought long dead.
“You truly want that?” he whispered when he recovered from the blow. “You want me to never bother you again?”
Doubt flicked in her gaze, so brief, but he caught it, and with it, hope.
“I want to end whatever this is between us before it goes horribly wrong,” she said. “We could have gotten caught last night. What then? Have your views on marriage changed? Mine haven’t.”
Deerhurst paused. His views on marriage? That had never mattered. He had a secret. One that not only drove him but would influence the woman who joined his house too.
He would never marry.
Not unless he could trust the woman with the happiness of his daughter. Could he trust Phaedra? A moot point. It didn’t matter if he trusted her or not. As she said, her views had not changed. Which, incidentally, also revolved around trust.
They were both people in this world who did not trust others with their most precious possessions. He, with his daughter, and she with her heart.