“Are you hiding? A woman who climbs trees to look at Mam Tor can’t possibly be a coward.”
Petra’s hand flew over her mouth to stifle a scream. What she’d taken as a large misshapen chair was actually…not. A bubble of excitement pushed up from her heart at the raspy voice. “You scared the bloody daylights out of me. And I am not hiding. I needed a moment of respite.”
A dark chuckle echoed in the room, kissing the skin of her arms. “From your future mother-in-law? Or perhaps Lady Marsh? Your mother does have a propensity to be a bit…challenging. I’ve been meaning to ask, why purple? It invites all sorts of unwelcome comparisons.”
Her brief happiness at his presence faded as she remembered Katherine, barely clothed, at his door last night. “I’m sure Katherine is looking for you. I just saw her in the hall. Don’t let me keep you.” She bent to pick up her slippers. “I’d hate to interrupt your little assignation.” Petra winced, knowing she sounded like a jealous fishwife.
Silence filled the room before Morwick said quietly, “What makes you think I’m having an assignation with Katherine?”
Petra wished to rail at him. Punch him with her fists for disappointing her and toying with her emotions in such a way. Though in all fairness, she doubted Morwick intentionally sought to hurt her.
“I’m not meeting Katherine.”
“Last night was enough for you? You know, you really should be more discreet.”
A soft curse filled the air before he said, “Your ladylike decorum is beginning to slip, Perfect Petra. You shouldn’t speak on such a subject.”
“You object?”
“Perish the thought. On the contrary, I adore the reckless, less than perfect Petra who climbs trees and allows a gentleman to see her ankles. The one who doesn’t like the thought of Katherine.”
“I misspoke.” She ignored the tightness in her chest. “And I didn’tallowyou to see my ankles. Besides, your affairs are your own and certainly none of my business. Just as my life is none of your concern.”
“I fear you are incorrect.” He stood and without asking, moved her legs over on the couch to make room for himself to sit. Taking her calves he put her legs across his lap.
“There’s not enough room.” Her voice trembled. It felt far too intimate having her stocking feet nestled in the warmth of his lap. Far too close to— “Find elsewhere to sit. Where you were sitting was perfectly fine.”
Morwick was always so warm. Heat rolled off his body and found its way up her skirts to warm her legs. Ignoring her outrage his hands took hold of her feet. Fingers, big and strong wrapped around her toes as his thumb pressed into the arch of one foot.
Petra bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud which would only encourage him. But,my lord,that felt good. She hadn’t realized how badly her feet hurt or how much she’d danced until now. Was he rubbing Katherine’s feet before Petra’s arrival? Was that why she’d been laughing? At the thought, Petra tried to jerk her feet from his lap, but he held on tightly.
“Relax, Petra. I had no assignation with Katherine.”
“It’s none of my concern with whom you have an affair.” When his thumb dug into her arch this time, she bit the pillow next to her head to keep from moaning. She didn’t wish to encourage his attentions.
“You are a poor liar,” he said in a soft growl as he squeezed her toes, before circling her ankles with his hands, holding her feet firmly in his lap. His thumb rubbed back and forth over her ankle.
“I’ve been pretending all my life. I should be better, don’t you think?” Petra tried to keep her voice light. She wished she could make out his features, but the room was far too dark. “What areyouhiding from, my lord? Surely, a man who scales the edge of cliffs and explores dangerous caves has little to fear. I saw you today as I looked out across the moors. Leaving to go roaming about.”
He was quiet for so long, Petra didn’t think he would answer her. Finally he said, “You would be mistaken, Petra. There are a great many things I fear, as it turns out.”
The seriousness in his voice, with not so much as a hint of sarcasm, unsettled her. “Perhaps you were concerned someone would find you here with Katherine?” When he didn’t answer, Petra tried again to pull her feet away, convinced she was correct and he didn’t wish to admit such a thing. “I overheard her laughter, you see. Just down the hall.” She twisted, her heart aching painfully.
“Stop, or you will hurt yourself.” Morwick trapped both feet with one hand. “Would you like to know the story of Katherine and me? It’s not very interesting, I grant you.”
“You are lovers,” Petra choked out as his free hand trailed up and down her calf, sending flames licking up her thighs. “Let go. Stop toying with me.”
“Werelovers, Petra. Long ago. I was young and in awe of the beautiful girl who lived across the moors from Somerton. Katherine was my closest childhood friend; eventually she became more. We were young. She was experienced, I was not. At one point I thought of marrying her.”
A fist punched into Petra’s side. She didn’t wish to know anymore and struggled against his hands. “I don’t wish to hear about your sordid affair with her.”
His grip tightened. “Ineverloved her, but liked her, which made her a perfect candidate for marriage. Do you understand my meaning? For I can explain it no better than that.”
Petra ceased her struggles. She recalled Lady Cupps-Foster’s private sitting room. The portrait of Morwick’s father. His mother’s endless grief. What such a thing would have done to a young boy’s perception of love.
“Instead of offering for her, I went to visit my brother, Spence. I spent some time learning the family business. But, that’s a story for another time.”
Petra’s breath caught, feeling the tickle of his calloused fingers at the hollow of her knee. “It’s really none of my affair, Lord Morwick, who you are involved with.”
