Almost she could believe that this was real. That she was precious to him, as precious as his soft whispered endearments and careful tending made her feel.
But she recalled what had happened the last time. She could not let herself be crushed that way again.
She wanted to tell him that she’d lost her heart to him. She wanted to tell him that if only he would let her stay, she could make them all so happy. She could make this dark, lonely estate into a home.
Instead she said, “I want you to know I have no expectations of you.”
He stiffened beneath her. “Expectations?”
Marriage, she realized. He would think she meantmarriage.
She hastened to clarify. “If you want to continue this part of our relationship while I am here in Northumberland, I would of course be amenable. But if this too was a mistake on your part, then—I—”
To her absolute horror, her voice broke, and her idiotic eyes filled with tears.
But Christian’s arms closed hard around her, and he pressed his lips into her shoulder. “I don’t know what this was,” he said, “but it wasn’t a mistake.”
She untangled her fingers from his hair and let her hand drop to her side. She left it open, palm up, but he did not link his fingers with hers.
He turned his head so that his bearded cheek rested against her skin. “Do you… have regrets?”
“No,” she said, “no regrets.”
It was not precisely a lie. She did not regret what they’d done. Only she wanted—oh devil take it, she wanted so much more.
Chapter 15
At some point during the subsequent day, Angelica Kauffman produced five fat orange kittens directly in the center of Matilda’s coverlet.
“I thought you said she would want a nest,” Matilda murmured accusingly to Mrs. Perkins from their watchful position behind the Judith and Holofernes painting.
“Cats always make a nest before they give birth,” said Mrs. Perkins dryly. “That is not a cat. I believe it is a demon.”
Bea made an outraged sound. “I think Angelica Kauffman has chosen perfectly well. She knows she and the kitten are safe here in Matilda’s room.”
“Until they start to crawl about and fall off the bed,” Matilda muttered.
“She should move the kittens before then,” said Mrs. Perkins. “I hope. Perhaps I should try again with the boxes. Or—hmm—perhaps she would prefer a different surface. I wonder if she would consider a tureen…”
Mumbling more alarming suggestions of crockery, Mrs. Perkins left Bea and Matilda to watch the cat nuzzle at the orange kittens, each of whom appeared to possess a mashed nose and an astonishingly loud cry.
Bea pressed her fingers to her mouth. “I cannot wait to hold them. Is it wrong that I wish Angelica Kauffman had chosen my bed to deliver?”
Matilda snorted. “Have at it. You can sleep in here. If you wake up covered in cat fur, try to bathe before you embrace your brother.”
She briefly cursed herself.Do not think about embracing her brother!
She had avoided thinking about the previous afternoon for at least, oh, seven or eight minutes at a stretch. Dinner had been an enormously awkward affair. As she’d served herself—this time a thick creamy stew bursting with rice, mushrooms, and parsnips—she’d looked everywhere but at Christian, even as her head had been full of his elegant fingers, the sight of his dark head between her legs as she clutched the wooden shelf at her sides.
It had not been a mistake, he’d said.
Did that mean he wanted her still? Again?
She did not know. She did not know, and she could not think about it right now, here in her bedchamber next to hissister,for heaven’s sake.
“Do you mean to keep them all?” Matilda asked. Her voice sounded slightly choked, and she hoped Bea would not notice.
“I would rather like to,” Bea said. “Only—six cats! It seems a bit extravagant.”
