the chamber before turning his speculative gaze back to her. “Did you drop something?”
“No, I…” She averted her gaze and nibbled her lip.
“You what, Elspeth?”
She started at his use of her first name. But rather than being insulted at his lack of formality, something inside her thrilled. Her breath caught, and her lips curled into a genuine smile. Something about him addressing her so informally…
“Something is amiss. You are acting strange. I demand to know what happened.” He came closer, his gaze searching hers.
“Oh, very well. I was attempting to remove my riding habit and tripped on my hem.” Elspeth’s cheeks warmed slightly at the admission.
A spark of amusement lit his pale eyes, but he did not laugh. Instead, he made a small circle with his finger and said, “Turn around.”
She hesitated for a moment, then made a slow half-circle, presenting her back. Honestly, what difference did it make? She’d been married, after all. Her first husband had stripped her of her modesty, and her second left her reputation destroyed. At this point, she had nothing to lose, and she would not get out of her frock any other way.
Her pulse sped as Lord Thornton’s knuckles brushed the back of her neck. A tiny thrill, like a bolt of lightning, shot through her at the slight contact. Elspeth sucked in a breath as he released the first button.
She’d never felt such sensations, but she recognized them all the same. This was desire. She’d heard married ladies speak of desire before. The ones who loved their husbands often described or alluded to the emotion. Tingling skin, warmth spreading through one’s body. Flutters, warmth, and dampness between one’s thighs.
Good Heavens, all of those things were happening to her! How could that be? She’d desired no one. Did not think herself capable of such feelings. Certainly not after the way her first husband had treated her. And most definitely, not for a complete stranger.
Or was he? She had come to know Lord Thornton in some measure. What’s more, she found him to be an attractive man. So why shouldn’t she desire him?
“Sleep well, Elspeth,” he said, breaking through her thoughts.
She crossed her arms over her bodice to hold her gown in place as she turned back. “Thank you,” was all she could say before he stepped into the hall, shutting her chamber door.
Relaxing her arms, she let her riding habit slip down her body. In little time, she’d stripped to her shift and climbed into the bed. Her mind roamed back to the odd sensations that had sent her body and mind into turmoil moments before.
Had he noticed her rapid pulse or the color in her cheeks? Did she have a similar effect on him? She drifted off to sleep as she wondered what it would be like to kiss him.
Sometime later, Elspeth woke with a start. She’d thought someone had screamed, though she heard nothing now. Perhaps it had been a dream? She rolled onto her side and glanced at the window. The storm still raged beyond the windowpane. Maybe it had been a clap of thunder that awakened her?
Tossing her arm over her forehead, she closed her eyes. Then she heard it again. Yelling. A string of words she could not make out, but the tone was distraught, fearful even. She jumped from her bed, heart-pounding, and went to press her ear to the door.
A loud thump followed by painful moaning, and a yell reached her ear. She spun and marched to the hearth to retrieve the fire poker as lightning lit her chamber. With no more thought, she fled her room, creeping toward the sounds.
Elspeth didn’t have far to go before finding their source. She paused outside of a door, mere feet from her own, on the opposite side of the hall. Then she acted, flinging the door open and brandishing her weapon. With the fire poker held high, she froze, her mouth gaping.
Lord Thornton lay thrashing on the bed, his arms swinging and legs kicking as though he fought a specter. Her gaze traveled over his bare chest before moving to his face. Sweat coated his brow, and his lips parted as he uttered something then cried out in a painful hallowed way.
One thing was clear, he was in distress.
She dropped the fire poker, letting it thump against the threadbare carpeting, then raced to his bedside. Fearing he’d fallen ill, she reached out and placed her hand to his forehead. No fever. She blew out a breath as she