a kitten, or holding a child’s hand.”
“You don’t have to tell me you like sugar cakes,” he said. “You like kisses, too.”
“I do not.”
“Do you want me to prove it again?”
“No!”
He moved away then, backing into the darkness, and she suddenly felt bereft. She could see him now, a shadow in a room of shadows, no longer in danger of touching her, thank God. She released her breath, trying to decipher the sudden pang of…regret? Disappointment? Freedom.
“I want to go back,” she said sternly, ignoring it.
“Well, my darling girl, you can’t,” he said frankly. “I told you, my reputation as a lover is at stake. You’re not leaving until there’s been enough time to shag you properly. Which I’m guessing is another forty-five minutes. So you might as well sit down and tell me whatever it was that made you drag me into here in the first place. Not that I mind. If the Elsmeres and their ilk think I’ve managed to so thoroughly debauch the Saint of King Street that she can’t spend a few hours without having me between her legs, then my credit will only rise. When we leave you’ll need to be languid, mussed and dreamy.”
“Must you be so crass?”
“Oh, my sweet Charity.”
“Stop calling me that!” Her usual good humor seemed to have eroded completely.
“Oh, my sweet Lady Carstairs? It doesn’t have quite the same ring. And Melisande sounds like a medieval martyr doomed to perish. Hasn’t anyone ever called you by a pet name?”
“No. And if they had I’d hardly give you the use of it,” she said and pushed away from the wall. He’d pulled back from that dangerous seduction that had filled the tiny room, and he was simply Lord Rohan, the man who promised to help her. Her legs still felt weak, and she crossed the room to sit on the surface near him, wondering what it was. Wondering why he had held her, kissed her and then just as suddenly stopped.
Not that she wasn’t grateful. She didn’t want his hands on her, his mouth on hers. She still wasn’t sure why he’d done it in the first place. To teach her a lesson? To prove to her just how naive she was. What a child, what an innocent, what a ridiculous creature she was.
It was a good thing they were in the dark. She suddenly felt quite confused and miserable. She had responded to his touch, his mouth, and it shocked her. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed, but Benedick Rohan was a man who noticed everything. Why had she liked it? Something that she had simply borne as the least of unpleasant intimacies was suddenly unbelievably enticing.
It wasn’t as if Sir Thomas hadn’t cared for her. And she had loved him, deeply, and been very happy when she’d been able to provide him with that physical outlet, the few times he’d felt up to it.
She’d been infatuated with Wilfred, as much as the memory now embarrassed her. She’d wanted his kisses. His chaste kisses. That hadn’t moved her nearly as much as Benedick Rohan’s shocking embrace.
“What did you want to tell me?” he said in his deep voice, and she felt it slide down her backbone like a caress.
She had to stop thinking about that. “Lord Elsmere was about to invite us to a party in Kent. At a place called Kersley Hall, I believe. I presume that is one of their estates? Lady Elsmere stopped him, but I thought if you talked with him you might get him to proffer an invitation. It would be a way in to the workings of the Heavenly Host.”
“Kersley Hall?” he echoed, and she heard the surprise in his voice. “That belonged to the Earl of Cranston, but I’m certain it burned down last winter. Why in the world would anyone want to go there?”
“Are there outbuildings? Some place for the Heavenly Host to gather?”
“I have no idea,” he said, and she could tell by the sound of his voice that he’d practically forgotten her existence. “But I intend to find out.”
He leaned back, and she could hear his sudden exhalation. And then his large hand caught hers, though how he could find it in the darkness she couldn’t begin to guess. He held it lightly, his long fingers tracing each of hers, gently caressing her palm. She wanted to yank it away from him, but for some reason she let it rest there, as the strange pleasure of his touch on her skin danced