sure everyone was safely home and the house locked up. It was his duty, after all, and if the place was wide open in the morning—as it might have been left seeing Sir Alexander’s current mood—they’d look to him for the reason. And so he’d seen what he shouldn’t have, and quite a surprise it’d been, too. For the master as well, if he was any judge—though hardly an unpleasant one. No harm in a kiss, o’ course, as he would tell Lucy if she ever spoke to him again. Even a kiss like that. That had looked like a scorcher, for sure, and who would have thought it? Their guest was a widow lady, he reminded himself. Lucy might call her Miss Charlotte, but she was really Mrs. Wylde, and it seemed she knew what she was doing when it came to kisses. Whew!
House secured, Ethan moved quietly to the back stairs and made his way up. At the first landing, he heard footsteps above him. It had to be Lucy, her mistress safely abed. He went faster and caught up to her in the narrow attic corridor that housed the servants’ quarters. “Lucy,” he whispered, very conscious of people sleeping on either side of the hall.
Lucy gasped and whirled, one hand clutched to her chest.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he murmured hurriedly. “I’ve been locking up.” Lucy merely backed toward her room. “Wait. Just talk to me for a…”
“Leave me be,” Lucy hissed.
“I’ve told you I meant no offense.”
“Doesn’t matter what you meant, or what you mean now, I’m having none of it.”
“Shh.” Ethan glanced at the rows of closed doors.
“You’re a vain, lecherous rogue, and you can just stay away from me,” said Lucy between clenched teeth.
“I’m no such thing. Lucy, it was just a kiss.”
“Something that don’t mean nothing,” she replied fiercely. “Something you do all the time. I know it.” Her mouth trembled.
She looked so forlorn. Ethan wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and assure her that it had meant something. But this wasn’t the time or place. His hands curled into fists; there never was a time or place. That was the damnable thing.
“I’m not like that,” Lucy continued. “I don’t go about…” Her voice shook. “What Miss Charlotte would think of me if she ever heard what I done.”
She didn’t need to regret it quite as much as that, Ethan thought. He’d be damned if she hadn’t enjoyed it at the time. “Your ‘Miss Charlotte’ would understand better than you think, seemingly. She was just kissing Sir Alexander in the front hall.”
Lucy gaped at him. “That’s a dreadful lie.”
“Full as she could hold of champagne, too. That’s not the kind of goings-on we’re used to in this house.” The look on Lucy’s face immediately made him sorry he’d said it.
“Is someone out there?” James’s voice came through the door panels. “Ethan?” Bed springs creaked.
With a whisk of skirts, Lucy hurried down the hall and disappeared into the room she shared with Susan. Seething with frustration, Ethan went into his own.
James was sitting up in bed. “Were you talking to somebody?” he asked sleepily.
“Who would I be talking to at this hour? Go back to sleep.” Blearily, James obeyed. But it was quite a time before Ethan was able to do the same.
Eleven
Alec found the breakfast room blessedly empty when he entered it the following morning. He gathered whatever came to hand, took a pot of tea, and shut himself in his study before that could change. All night, through fitful sleep and restless dreams, his thoughts had been full of Charlotte. Her lips, the feel of her body against his, the brightness of her coppery eyes dimming as he pushed her away. Memories of her drowned his senses and wreaked havoc in his mind. They lingered now, despite anything he could do.
Alec had always seen himself as a sensible son of his sensible father. Of course he had “fun”—Charlotte’s accusation still stung. But he knew where to draw the line; he prized stability, reasonable action. Now, he’d begun to fear that his grandfather’s blood ran strong in his veins as well—his grandfather who’d succumbed to “love” and poisoned the inner sanctuary of his family for decades. At the moment, Alec felt just as reckless, as helpless, as the forebear he’d always—despised? pitied?—because his life had been overturned by a slender girl who’d thrown herself at him like a…
No, it hadn’t been like that. She had fallen into his arms