body as warmth seeped from his larger form to hers.
Margaret placed her cheek to Welles, the hair covering his chest tickling her nose. She listened to his heart, wishing it beat for her.
Stop it.
Margaret shut her eyes, wanting just a few more minutes of Welles before returning to her aunt’s. Now was not the time to feel sorry for herself. Practical to a fault, Margaret knew she still had to secure Carstairs, no matter her feeling for Welles. Especially because of Welles. Mooning over a man she couldn’t have would only end with her married to Winthrop.
“Welles,” she said quietly, knowing the hour grew late. “I should go.” It would be more difficult for her the longer she stayed. It was bad enough she meant to ask for his help. She scuttled off his chest before he could stop her. Stepping out of his reach, she picked up her chemise from the floor.
A hand stretched out to her. “Come back to me.” The deep baritone caressed her still throbbing body, making her unsteady.
She took a deep breath, ready to recite the speech she’d prepared. An idea had come to her during her earlier conversation with her aunt. One she’d mulled over in the hack on the way to Elysium. “You must know, Welles, I wanted to be with you tonight. My honor has not been infringed upon. I have no expectations of you.”
“Maybe you should,” he said softly.
“Later, if you feel even a shred of guilt, I beg you do not on my account.”
“Why did you come to me tonight, Maggie?” His voice was rough, almost irritated.
Because I’m in love with you.
Blinking, she turned her head because at that moment, it hurt to look at him. She was afraid he’d see the truth in her eyes. He would pity her, something Margaret didn’t want. Welles would never marry. He’d made his feelings abundantly clear and his reasons were deeply entrenched in every fiber of his being. Margaret, on the other hand, had to marry. Preferably Carstairs. She hoped someday Welles would forgive his father and let go of the bitterness he held on to. The thought of him anguished and alone for the remainder of his life broke Margaret’s heart.
Steeling herself and her emotions, she turned to face him again. Margaret couldn’t allow her compromised heart to stop what must be done. And her heart was compromised, much more thoroughly than her body had been. Lifting her chin, she looked him in the eye.
“Winthrop has offered for me and my aunt has accepted, though the contracts have not yet been signed. I no longer have the luxury of convincing Carstairs to court me. I need to be compromised.”
The wide mouth drew into a grim, hard line. “You’ve been compromised, in case you haven’t noticed.” The words flung at her like chips of ice. “Come. Here.”
Margaret shook her head. “Why are you so bloody angry?”
“Was this your way of bribing me to help you trap my friend?” The words came out angry and cold. “How mercenary of you.”
Why was he being so awful? “No, of course not. One has nothing to do with the other. Besides,” she felt her own ire rising, “you were the one who originally made such an improper suggestion.”
“I only asked you to play the fucking piano.” He sat up on the chaise, clearly furious with her.
“There is no need for vulgarity, Welles.” Margaret pulled her cloak up over her shoulders, jerking to secure the garment around her neck. “I don’t blame you for what happened tonight. Please be assured I don’t expect anything from you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Fine. Don’t help me avoid Winthrop. I’ll compromise Carstairs on my own.”
He shot her another angry scowl and stood. Walking naked to an armoire hiding in a dark corner, Welles pulled out a clean shirt. Grabbing his trousers, he jerked his legs through and then pulled on his boots.
“Carstairs is honorable,” she said needlessly. “If he compromised me, he’ll do the right thing.”
“As opposed to me who is dishonorable and will not?”
Margaret lifted her chin. “I didn’t say that.”
“Carstairs will be at my stepmother’s little ball. A close gathering of the ton to which I’m certain you’ve already received an invitation,” he said in a chilly tone. “He’s already promised to attend.”
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. His irritation at her, his coldness after what they’d shared, was unwarranted. He should be happy she didn’t want anything from him.
Welles took her hand. “I’ll escort you out. My carriage is