Wicked Again (The Wickeds #7) - Kathleen Ayers Page 0,67

dismiss me in my own home, but you aren’t going anywhere.” He ran a hand through his hair causing the ends to stick up like spikes. “You aren’t to be moved, according to Dr. Steward. At least for the night.”

The night? She couldn’t stay with Haddon. “Just send a note—”

“I’ve already sent word to your niece, Lady Malden. She declined to come and fetch you, by the way.”

Well, this was mildly embarrassing.

“Spencer, then.” She waved a hand. “Lord Kelso. He’ll come fetch me.”

“Unfortunately, he can’t. He and Lady Kelso left this morning for Gray Covington. No one is coming to your rescue.”

Admittedly, it was slightly thrilling to be held captive by Haddon, despite his sudden air of annoyance. She preferred his concerned demeanor of a moment ago. But at least he wasn’t coldly furious as he’d been at the theater, thinking Nighter was her lover.

I don’t want another lover.

“But I’ve none of my things,” Marissa said tartly. Lifting the covers, she was shocked to see not the clothing she’d worn to take Jordana shopping, but a silk robe. At least she still had her chemise on. She sniffed at the silk. It smelled of Haddon.

“I appear to be wearing a man’s robe.”

“You are. I’m thrilled to see the little knock on your head didn’t damage your eyesight.”

“Does this garment belong to you?” Heat washed up her chest to her cheeks. Good grief. The physician had seen her wearing Haddon’s robe. “What will Dr. Steward think?”

He didn’t answer, but a mischievous glint entered his eyes. “You are my guest for the night until I can be assured you are well.”

“How kind.”

“It’s the least I could do for my daughter’s elderly chaperone.”

He tried to take her hand again, and she slapped at it.

“Marissa, I’m teasing.” Haddon laughed. “I don’t give a fig about your age. I never have.” Leaning over, he took a strand of her hair between his fingers. “And while your precious little bottles from the apothecary weren’t damaged, you need not visit Mr. Coventry on my account.”

“It isn’t for you. How presumptuous.” He needn’t know she’d only visited the apothecary for the first time after returning to London.

“I prefer the silver in your hair. It’s beautiful, like a slice of moonlight on a dark night. And it matches my own.”

Marissa’s eyes took in Haddon’s full head of hair, discerning only a sprinkling of gray. She’d never noticed before; why, she wasn’t sure. “You’re mistaken. I didn’t do it for you.”

A soft chuckle came from his chest. “I must be. Forgive me.” Placing his hands on either side of her head, Haddon leaned over her as if he were about to bestow a kiss.

Her lips parted, eyes falling shut as Marissa’s pulse raced in anticipation.

The brush of his lips against the curve of her ear sent a slow, delicious burn down the length of her body. “Both myself and Dr. Steward were relieved,” he murmured, “to find out I was not a mere dalliance.”

Marissa’s eyes snapped back open. Haddon’s mouth was inches from hers; he was so close, their noses nearly touched. She pushed at him weakly with both hands.

Haddon caught her fingers, moving her hand until it lay over his chest.

His heart thudded dully beneath her palm, each beat calling to her. “Get some rest,” he said, sliding off the bed. “I’ll check on you later.”

Once Haddon left, Marissa stared at the closed door for the longest time. Fingers shaking, still warm and tingling from the feel of Haddon, she clasped the blanket, pulling it up to her chin, listening to the quiet sound of her own heart as it beat out the truth.

Marissa had driven Haddon away in a useless attempt to save herself and avoid the thing she feared the most. But in the end, it hadn’t mattered.

I’m in love with him.

20

Marissa awoke sometime later, groggy from the medicine the doctor had given her, which, she was certain, was laudanum. She kept her eyes closed as the remnants of her dream lingered at the edges of her mind.

Reggie was sitting in his study, surrounded by rocks and fossils, digging away at a large chunk of gritstone on the table, determined to find something of value. He did so love his rocks.

When she approached him, Reggie waved her away.

“I’m working, Marissa. Go up to bed.”

“But—" She started to protest.

“I’ve left you something on your pillow.” He turned, inky black curls falling over his forehead, and smiled. “Off with you.”

Marissa blew him a kiss before climbing up the stairs