If he were taken aback by this outburst, he didn’t show it. “Where to, then, my lady? Might I offer my house?” His slow, sensual smile gave voice to wicked promises he had no need to speak aloud.
Her traitorous body thrilled at the thought of surrender.
“No,” Susan gasped, more out of self-preservation than desire. She was still in control of herself. For now.
“Name the place,” he said gallantly, by all appearances just as satisfied to stroll about as to—well, all right, perhaps notjustas satisfied. “I am yours to command.”
Susan’s skin erupted in gooseflesh that had absolutely nothing to do with the chill night air.
Where could they go that wasn’t his lodgings? Or hers? Someplace without a bedchamber of any kind. Better yet, someplace wholly unromantic, so she could tamp down the impossible fantasies galloping rampant through her mind.
She glanced around Bournemouth proper. Cliffs. Sand. A smattering of dilapidated structures. Then she realized what it was shedidn’tsee.
“Where’s the chicken shed?” she murmured, staring hard at the sparse town.
There was no chicken shed. She’d have noticed a chicken shed.
“What chicken shed?” Mr. Bothwick’s brow furrowed in confusion.
“I—” Susan stopped. She what? Had overheard a ghost mention Mr. Bothwick’s betrothed had indulged in a midnight rendezvous amongst the poultry? No doubt the shameless rakehell was the very man with whom she had done so. Yet now Susan had to explain her bizarre statement. “I heard Miss Devonshire’s cousin raised chickens.”
“Yes.” His face gave nothing away. “That’s true.”
He seemed to be waiting for some further explanation. She had none.
“I just... wondered where the farm was,” she finished lamely. And wished she’d never brought it up.
“Then, come on.” He changed course, headed away from town, toward a different trail. A darker one, hidden amongst the shadows. “I’ll take you.”
You should not be alone with him. You should not be alone with him,the voice in Susan’s head chanted. The voice of reason. If he made love to one woman within those walls, he’ll think he can do so with you, too.
Yet she followed him.
And realized, long before they actually reached the splotch of grass upon which stood a few cows, a pheasant, and yes, a chicken shed: There was no possible way doll-perfect Dinah Devonshire had lifted her skirts inanythingso messy and rancid and disgusting.
Aside from there scarce being enough room for one person to stand upright, the stench alone kept Susan—and, she was certain, any sane woman—from venturing inside.
But why would Red have lied about what he’d seen? Orhadhe?
Miss Devonshire had threatened Susan’s life if she’d dared to breathe so much as a syllable about witnessing her alleged liaison amongst the chickens. The idea now seemed preposterous. But the terror in Miss Devonshire’s eyes had been real. Which begged the question...
What had Miss Devonshire been doing in a chicken shed that could possibly constitute a secret worth killing for?
Chapter 23
Evan considered Miss Stanton’s pensive countenance only a moment before making up his mind. He fell back to her side and proffered his arm.
“Come,” he commanded.
Miss Stanton’s fingers curved around his forearm. It was a testament to her apparent discomfiture that she obeyed without question.
He led her away from the stench of the chickens, away from the cover of trees, closer and closer to the jutting edge of the cliff overlooking the water. Yet with every step taken in tandem, he felt the real danger came not from the possibility of losing his footing to gravity and tumbling to his doom, but of losing a larger part of himself to the woman at his side. Which, to Evan, signified a free fall of an entirely different—but twice as terrifying—nature. He could afford no such fancies.
And yet he led her to his favorite spot in all of Bournemouth.
A half-circle of bleached rocks was all that separated the well-worn patch of dark earth from the endless sky. He loved to come here and lay on his back to listen to the ocean and watch the storm clouds roll in with the setting of the sun. At peace. Just far enough away from humans and animals alike, here it was easy to imagine himself alone in the universe, with nothing but nature to keep him company.
Except, this time, he was not alone. The slender fingers about his forearm would remind him of this fact, if it were somehow possible to have forgotten. Even when she was not present, Miss Stanton was never far from Evan’s mind. But he began to doubt the wisdom of bringing her to such a simple place as this.
