Good heavens, his hand sliding down the rounded slope of her skull felt divine. She wanted to curl into him like her cat Tabitha did to her when she would pet the feline. But what did he meandon’t fret?
“Why did you not say something?” he asked, a faint tremor in his voice. “Were you afraid?”
Well, of course she wasn’t, but she found she wanted to hear what he would say next, so she kept her silence.
“Give me the man’s name, Lilias. And if you don’t know his name, tell me where you saw him, what he looked like.” Nash’s hand had stopped stroking her head.
Pity, that.Though, how tightly he was now holding her and the way both his arms were encircling her, as if he was going to protect her from the world, felt wonderful. Too wonderful. Longing sprang forth hot and throbbing. She had to move away from him, break contact before she did something unthinkable. She set her hand on his thigh to push him away, and the unbridled power she felt under her fingertips made her shiver.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said, his voice now low and soothing. “I will find the man that dared to touch you, and I’ll kill him. I’ll rip his heart out. I promise I’ll—I mean, Owen will never let harm come to you again.”
His impassioned words sent her pulse spinning in a direction she dare not allow her emotions or her mind to go again. He was honorable so he was angry that any man should act with dishonor, and that was that.
She shoved away from him, breaking his hold and put the little space she could between them on the small seat of the gig. “It was a tree, not a man. I climbed a tree and ripped my gown. Though I appreciate your neighborly concern.”
She expected him to laugh or possibly lecture her on tree climbing or some such. What she did not anticipate was the fury that settled on his face as he stared at her. “You,” he bit out, “need a keeper. You will get yourself killed carrying on as you do. Your mother has never been up for the task, and—”
“Don’t you dare speak ill of my mother,” Lilias bellowed, and this time when she shoved Nash, he did fall backward onto his arse where he belonged. She snatched up the reins before he righted himself, whistled at her horse to go, and proceeded to leave him behind her, as she should have done the day he’d left her without ever looking back.
But before she got too far, she heard him yell, “Stay home or else!”
Later that night, she lay awake in her bed staring at her ceiling. She’d long given up the notion that she would sleep this night. Nash was far too heavy on her mind, and guilt filled her heart and her head that Nash, not Owen, was in both. Owen, who had declared his love. Owen, who had told her that the pain he lived with from his limp was nothing if he had her as his wife in the end. Owen loved her, but Nash still filled every cell she possessed. She hated herself, and she hated Nash, too.
Yet, she didn’t. She hated that she loved him, and that it was not a simple matter to forget him, particularly when he sounded so enraged on her behalf that someone might have harmed her. She rolled onto her side and punched her pillow. When he did things like vow to kill the villain and rip his heart out… Well, those sorts of words could confuse a lady, especially one prone to romantic leanings as she used to be. She was not going to be that sort anymore. An impassioned vow such as Nash’s could make a lady think a man was harboring secret feelings for her. But not this lady, of course. She flopped onto her back again. She could not, under any circumstances, ask Nash if any of those scenarios might possibly be the case. Nor could she put herself in a situation where he might tell her.
She bit her lip as she stared once more at the ceiling. If Nash did love her, it would be worse to know, wouldn’t it? She listened to her breathing for a long while as her mind wrestled with that question. Yes, it would be worse. She’d accepted Owen’s proposal. They were to wed. But was it fair to Owen?
“Oh, for the love of God,” she muttered and pressed her fingers to her aching temples. Was she so pathetic that she would twist the truth to suit her desires? She might be. The thought was not a pleasant one. She doubted she’d even see Nash alone ever again. She could see no reason why she would. It wasn’t as if the chances were high that she’d encounter him in the middle of the night leaving a woman’s house ever again. And who was that woman anyway? Tomorrow Lilias would—
No! No!She would not play the sleuth where Nash was concerned. It was none of her business, even if her heart wished otherwise.
Chapter Eight
The next night, Nash hid under the tree outside Lilias’s window and waited. He had a hunch that she was not going to keep her word. It was something in the way she’d so readily agreed to his demand.
Once he’d gotten home and was in his bed with time to think upon his encounter with her, he had concluded several things. First, a lady who had come and gone as she pleased for years because no one was properly watching her would not so easily relinquish her freedom. Second, Lilias undoubtedly knew Owen had been called from Town, so she knew that Nash could not immediately tell Owen her secret as Nash had threatened. And lastly, he had hurt her.
He had heard it in her voice and had seen it on her face last night, and the knowledge was a flowing pain in his veins that also made him question, once again, if her feelings for him had ever run to the depths his did for her. No. No. And yet… The possibility tormented him. He could not stop the thoughts. They burned in his head, consuming him. Considering what might have been if he’d never betrayed his brother, if he had not come perilously close to doing the same to Owen, if Owen did not love her, if Nash was truly the person she thought him to be filled him with an all-consuming, pulsing desire. He shook to battle against it. Perspiration dampened his brow and back, and his jaw ached from his clenched teeth.
All Nash needed to do was keep her safe until Owen returned, and if she tried to sneak out of her house again before that, he’d stop her. He’d attempted to pass the duty to Carrington, but the man had acted indifferent, as if it was perfectly acceptable for Lilias to be galivanting around London at night alone. It infuriated Nash that Carrington did not seem concerned, but what could he do? He could not force Carrington to do anything, so here Nash was.
The first hour passed uneventfully. In the second hour, she appeared at her window, and he watched it slide open. He thought about calling up to her to stop her foolishness, but he didn’t want to chance waking her mother. As much as he thought her mother needed someone to wake her up to what Lilias was doing, Nash could not stand the thought of being the one to cause Lilias problems with her mother. He’d simply have to stand guard here every night until Owen returned to London, and then he was going to have to tell Owen about Lilias’s little adventures so that Owen would demand she stop.
Lilias kicked one leg over her window ledge, giving Nash a view of her creamy flesh. He had to swallow a groan of desire. She sent her other leg over, and then the little hellion started down the tree, shimmying her body, which moved her hips in a way that made him think of how she might move them if he were on top of her, entering her. He hardened instantly.
He let her descend almost to the bottom before he spoke. “I said to stay home.”
She stilled, gasped, and looked over her shoulder at him. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He ignored that obvious question. “I vow it,” he said instead, mimicking the oath she’d falsely given him last night. Then he snorted. “You force me into a position where I have no choice but to tell Owen.”
“Fine,” she growled, then surprised him by dropping very nimbly to the ground. She landed with barely a thud, which told him Lilias had descended this tree often. More often than he cared to think about her endangering herself. She thrust her hands onto her hips and glared at him. “Tell him.” Then she smirked. “But you will have to wait unless you plan to travel to the Cotswolds to do so.”
By God, she was magnificent in her confidence.
“Now if you will kindly excuse me.” She tried to sidestep him, but he easily blocked her path.
“I will tell him, Lilias,” he said, sure she was bluffing about being unconcerned. “I’ll tell him, and you know he’ll demand you cease this. Owen is a proper rule follower, and he has never been the adventurous sort.”
