14
That night, Theodora dreamed she was locked in a huge house and every door she opened revealed a bare-chested Conner, who grinned as if he knew she couldn’t resist him. She awoke from that disturbing image only to fall back into a fitful slumber, where she dreamed she and Lance were sitting at their dining room table that stretched on and on as far as the eye could see, every seat taken by identically dressed, noisy children. Dishes were passed, each progressively emptier. As the dishes emptied, the children’s voices became more shrill and demanding until she awoke in a panic, panting as if she’d been running up and down stairs.
There hadn’t been much sleep after that, and she was glad to see the sun peek through the cracks in her curtain. Quietly, so as not to awaken the other guests, Theodora dressed and went downstairs.
Glancing inside the breakfast room, she was relieved to see Lance alone there. She paused in the hallway to smooth the skirt of her green silk traveling gown, which she’d chosen with great care, and to place her cool hands over her heated cheeks. She’d never asked someone to kiss her, and had no idea where to begin. This is not an undertaking for the weak, she told herself firmly. But it must be done.
With a final, deep breath, she plastered on a smile and entered the breakfast room.
Lance sat at the table, buried behind a newspaper, a half empty cup of tea before him. Dressed in a blue coat and buff breeches, his boots clean and shining, he looked exactly like what he was: a handsome, good-hearted country squire.
She approached the table, noting he hadn’t heard her enter. Smiling, she leaned across the table and tapped on the back of his newspaper.
He lowered the paper, his expression brightening. “Theodora!” He put down the paper and stood, looking absurdly pleased to see her. “Good morning!”
That was a good start, she decided. “Good morning.” Her uneasy dreams and concerns still filled her mind, but she resolutely pushed them aside. But when I kiss him, will he kiss me back?
There was only one way to find out. She stepped forward, her skirts swinging to brush his legs, her toes just touching his boots.
Lance’s eyes widened. “Th-Theodora?”
She placed her hand on his arm. It was firm, although not as hard-muscled as Con— No, don’t think about anyone but Lance. Steeling herself, she slid her hand up his arm.
“Theodora!” Lance’s voice sounded strangled. “I— This isn’t— What are—”
The door opened, and a maid with a covered serving dish appeared.
Lance’s hands dropped to his sides and he instantly stepped back. “Ah! The eggs!” No man had ever sounded more relieved to see his breakfast.
And just like that, the moment was gone, leaving Theodora with a desire to curse.
“Aye. I’ve brought your eggs. Hot, they are, too.” This maid was different from the one they’d seen last night. She was large-boned, with a broad freckled face topped by thick, curly blond hair. Seeing Theodora, she dropped into an awkward curtsy, the platter wavering in her hands. “Good morning, miss!”
“Good morning.” Theodora took a seat, Lance doing the same.
The maid popped back to her feet and set the dish on the table. “Here you are; fresh from the chicken. I stole these from beneath the hen just this morning.”
“Fresh eggs are always best,” Lance said politely.
“Aye, although the hen was nae happy to give them up. But that could have been due to my cold hands. I’d be clucking up a storm if someone put their icy hands on my bare behind, too.”
Theodora had to stifle a laugh, while Lance made a strangling sound.
The maid lifted the serving cover. “Nice and hot! I daresay the chicken wouldn’t wish to sit on them now, eh? They would burn her bum if she tried.”
Theodora choked back another laugh, hiding it behind a cough. She looked at Lance to share her amusement, but he was watching the girl with a confounded look on his face.
Theodora cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome,” the maid said, grinning cheerfully, but making no move to leave.
This maid wasn’t as well trained as the last, and Lance cast an almost desperate look at Theodora. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll finish the newspaper before I eat.” With that, he hid behind the paper, leaving Theodora to handle the wayward servant.
“Ye’d best eat the eggs quickly,” the girl said, sliding the dish forward. “There’s nothing less tasty than cold eggs—unless it’s greasy, uncooked pig head or—”
“I beg your pardon,” Theodora said hastily. “Have we met?”
“Oh no. Polly Shoales usually helps Mrs. Landry, the innkeeper’s wife, but late last night Polly went and hurt her ankle, perhaps even broke it. This morning, Ma—she’s the laundress here—says to me, she says, ‘Alice, you’re going to have to help.’ So here I am. Normally Ma don’t like me and my sisters to help. She says we’re clumsy, the lot of us, and I cannot disagree, but this was an emergency.”
“Ah. I’m sorry to hear about Polly.”
“I’m not. Polly isn’t very nice to me—not since the Trivet boy started saying he thought I was prettier than her.” Alice sniffed proudly. “She didn’t take to that kindly.”
Theodora ignored Lance’s irritated shake of the newspaper. “She didn’t?”
“No. So I’m not the least bit sorry Polly’s hurt herself—though I suspect she has naught but a tiny sprain, if that, and she just wanted the time off to snuggle up to Tom the butcher’s son.”
Fascinated, Theodora asked, “I thought she liked the Trivet boy?”
“She likes them all, and too much, if you ask me.” Alice tugged at her lace collar. “So now I’m left to be the maid, and Polly will choke her goat when she finds out how uncommon busy we’ve been, what with you and the squire, and your chaperone, and that handsome gent as looks as if he were tossed from heaven.”
Choke her goat. I must remember that one. With a quiver of humor in her voice, Theodora said, “I daresay Polly will indeed regret treating you so poorly. Thank you for bringing the eggs. As you said, we’d best eat them now, before they grow cold.”
“Indeed, miss. Ring if you want more.” The maid gave a quick curtsy and left.
The second the door closed, Lance lowered his newspaper. “Good God, what was that?”
Theodora laughed. “That was Alice.”
He folded the newspaper and placed it on the table before he eyed the plate of eggs with great interest. “She was quite loquacious.”
“She was. Lance, may we . . . may we talk?”
He looked uneasy, but offered a quick smile. “Of course. What is it?”
“It’s—” She struggled to find the words, wetting her suddenly dry lips. “I’m glad we are finally alone.”
He flushed, and cast a quick look at the partially open door. “Yes, well, we haven’t had much time together over the last few days. I have missed our conversations.”
But conversation wasn’t what Theodora wanted. She tried to imagine Conner saying such a thing, and couldn’t. Now was the time to kill her fascination with him.
She pushed herself from the table. “Would you . . . would you mind standing?”
Lance flushed an even deeper red, but after a stilted moment, he pushed himself from the table and joined her. “Theodora, I’m not sure what—”
She rose up on her tiptoes, and pressed her mouth to his.
He froze, his eyes wide, looking so startled that she broke the kiss almost the second she’d started it, blazing with embarrassment as she stepped away. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have— I don’t know what I was thinking.” She started to turn, but Lance caught her arm.
“No!”
She looked up at him, hoping for . . . she didn’t know what.
Lance captured her hands and held them to his chest, pulling her closer. “Please don’t think I am not— Or that you—” He took a breath and gave a shaky laugh. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
She bit her lip. “I shouldn’t have done it. I was just—”
It had been a desperate attempt to smother the passion stirred by Conner’s kisses. But when her lips had met Lance’s, she’d felt nothing. Not a single thing.
Our marriage will not be passionate. She now knew that without a single doubt. But that is fine, isn’t it? Many marriages survive without passion. Wasn’t it more important to share common interests, enjoy easy conversations, and savor the joint enjoyment of a quiet, well-organized life, than to recklessly pursue a man who made one’s knees weaken when he flashed a wicked grin, and who had the power to send one’s spirits soaring or plummeting to the ground?
Common sense instantly answered that question. Sadly, her heart answered it in the opposite direction. Life with Conner would be wildly passionate and undeniably blissful . . . or it would until he tired of being with her and at home, and sailed away, leaving her alone and forgotten.
Perhaps the truth was that neither of these men were right for her. The thought was lowering indeed.
Red faced, Lance smiled and gently squeezed her hand. “I didn’t respond in a satisfactory way, did I? No, don’t answer that.” He took a steadying breath. “Perhaps . . . perhaps we should try that again. This time, I will try to—”
“Lance, I can’t marry you.” The words tumbled from her, propelled by her wretched thoughts, horrid dreams, and exhausted mind. She blinked, shocked that she’d said the words aloud.
“Well,” he said, looking stunned.
That was it. Just “well.”
She wetted her lips. I hope I haven’t broken his heart. “Please. I-I’m sorry if—”
“Thank God.”
She stared at him.
Lance went back to the table and sank into his chair limply. “I’m— This is so— Theodora, thank you.”
She didn’t know what to say. “You’re glad.”
“Ecstatic!” He flushed. “No, no. Not that I don’t think you’re— Theodora, you’re an exceptional, beautiful, capable—”
“We would not suit.”
“At all.”
They exchanged surprised looks and then burst out laughing, both of them punch drunk with sweet relief.
Theodora sat back in her chair, gasping for breath. “Oh Lance! I’ve been questioning our relationship since we first eloped, but I couldn’t find the words to say it.”
“And I couldn’t say it to you. Men cannot cry off.”
“No, they can’t. Society is brutally strict about that. How wretched for you. How long have you known this elopement to be an error?”
“To be honest, I suspected it the night before we left, and I knew it for certain once we were under way and you kept demanding I let you take the reins.”
“I’m a good driver.”
“And I’m not,” he said frankly. “But I wished you’d pretended that I was.”
“Oh. I’m not very good at pretending.”
“No. And I fear my vanity rather wishes you were.” He laughed. “I know, it’s absurd.”
She shrugged. “We all have expectations.”
“I suppose so. I haven’t slept a wink since we left, worrying . . .” He looked at her and said in a cautious tone, “To be honest, some of my concern was about Mother.”
“I’m not surprised. She seems rather forceful.”
“She is. I fear she might take umbrage at your spirit, which I like, of course. But Mother—” He spread his hands. “She is what she is.”
“I was a bit worried about that, too. And your sisters . . . I had no idea I would be expected to launch them for their seasons.”
“I suppose I should have mentioned that.”
“And that you wished for six children—”
“Or more.”
She shuddered. “One, perhaps. Two, maybe. I was also unaware that your mother would wish to name our first son, and that she’d live with us, and—” Theodora threw up her hands. “So many things! Didn’t we talk at all before we eloped? What were we thinking?”
He chuckled and leaned back in his chair, looking younger and more carefree than she’d ever seen him. “Apparently we weren’t thinking at all. We just met at a fortuitous time. I was looking for a wife. Mother has suggested repeatedly during the last year that it was time I married.”
“But she hasn’t liked your choices.”
“Not yet. But it’s made me realize how much I’d like to be married and have children and all that comes with it. So when I met you, and you are a beautiful, accomplished woman—” He smiled. “It seemed meant to be.”
“Until you realized I am not what either you or your mother was hoping for.”
“You’re much too spirited for life on a farm.” He hesitated. “I hope you will not think badly of either me or my mother. I truly respect and admire you. And Mother means well, but she’s been different since Father died and—”
“Please, don’t say another word. I honor you for caring so much for her. Was she the only reason you decided to marry?”
“No. There was more.”
“Yes?”
He bit his lip and then said in a rush, “The honeymoon.”
“The . . . honeymoon?”
“I never had the chance to take my grand tour— Father was ill, so I stayed home. Last year I decided that perhaps now was the time, so I began to plan a trip. That’s when Mother suggested it was time I look for a wife.”
“Ah! She thought getting married would keep you home.”
“Foolish of her, I know, but I thought that I could do both if I planned a lengthy honeymoon.” He looked around the cozy breakfast room and gave a regretful sigh. “I must admit, I was enjoying our trip. That was one of the things I liked about you—that you’ve traveled so much.”
She smiled. “Too much. Meanwhile, I found your fondness for home life quite attractive; I’m worn-out from traveling so often.”
“How ironic!” He shook his head at their foolishness. After a moment, he said simply, “So. What do we do now?”
What did they do now? “I suppose we will return to our homes and try to explain things.”
“Oh.” Lance’s shoulders slumped. “Yes. I suppose we must.” He absently folded one corner of the newspaper. “I wish we’d at least reached Scotland. I’ve always wanted to visit, but—” He sighed. “It’s not to be.”
“Apparently not.”
“It’s a pity, for I hear it’s beautiful. I must admit, I wasn’t looking forward to marrying over an anvil. I only suggested fleeing to Gretna Green because I didn’t wish Mother to sabotage our engagement, which she would have done.”
“I thought it would be romantic, but . . . no.”
“We are both of a commonsensical nature. I’m not sure romantic love is for us.”
That might be true for Lance, but Theodora was perfectly capable of falling wildly, madly in love. It was annoying that life wasn’t planned like the craft patterns in women’s magazines—each step carefully explained, and accompanied by a clear, simple drawing showing the desired outcome. Real life was like trying to make one of those projects in the inky dark of night, without any instructions or the final picture, and sometimes, without either glue or scissors.
She sighed. “I don’t look forward to returning home and telling my family we’ve changed our minds.” And Conner . . . oh God, what would she tell him? He’d be so pleased, and would woo her with even more fervor than before. How will I resist him?
“Neither do I,” Lance admitted. “I shall have to return home and this adventure will be over.” He sighed, looking sad. “I suppose all good things must end.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a small book and looked at it with a wistful smile. “I’ll tell you something, if you promise not to laugh.”
She smiled. “I promise.”
He opened the book to the first page and handed it to her. “Before I left, I listed all of the places of interest near Gretna Green. After we married, I was going to suggest we take some time and visit the area.”
She looked at the list. “Carlisle Castle, the Cathedral—”
“Beautiful structures, both. I saw pictures.”
“The gardens at Wordsworth House. I’ve heard of those.”
“The roses are renowned. There are five more places that I thought we might enjoy seeing.” He laughed ruefully. “Silly of me, wasn’t it?”
“Not at all. I would have enjoyed them all.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. In fact . . .” She looked at the journal, a thought growing with each passing second. “Lance, what if we go anyway?”
“What?”
“You want to see the sights, and I’m not averse to that. We have a chaperone, and neither of us are eager to return home. Heaven knows I don’t look forward to explaining the situation to my family, or Conner . . .”
“Ah yes, your family friend.”
Something about the way Lance said it made Theodora look at him sharply. “He is just a family friend.”
“Of course. He also needs to wed, and soon. Added to that, he knows you quite well, and . . .” Lance spread his hands wide. “I’m not a fool, Theodora. I can see, you know.”
“Then you can see how red my face is right now.”
“No, no! Don’t be embarrassed.” Lance’s eyes softened with humor. “I don’t blame Douglas for wishing to marry you; I rather wanted to myself.”
“That was different. You were being noble, while he’s being a pain in the—” She caught Lance’s shocked expression and hastily said, “Either way, if you don’t mind, I’d rather he didn’t know our engagement was off.”
“You don’t wish to marry him.”
“No.”
“He won’t just go away if you tell him to?”
“Lance, he was planning on following us all the way to Gretna; he’s a stubborn, difficult man. Once we reach Scotland and he thinks the marriage imminent, he’ll realize there’s nothing more to be done and leave us be. Then we can explore the area at our leisure before we return home to face the music.”
She handed him back the small journal and he slipped it into his pocket. “It’s tempting,” he said. “As you say, we have Miss Simmons to answer the concerns of propriety. I think she’d enjoy seeing some of the sights, too.”
“I’m certain she would. She doesn’t seem to have had a very exciting life so far.”
Lance leaned back in his seat, and stared for a moment at his hands where they rested on his knees. Finally, he slapped the table with a decisive whack and stood. “Let’s do this!”
She stood, too, relief making her dizzy. “Now I wish I’d said something several days ago!”
Laughing, he gave her a swift, brotherly hug. “Me, too. But this is going to be great fun—”
“Bloody hell!” The words cut through the room like a brutal swing of a sword.
Lance dropped his arms from Theodora’s shoulders and stepped away like a thief caught in the act. “Douglas! You startled us!”
“Obviously.” Conner’s tone was ice-cold and deadly.
“We were just having breakfast. Care to join us?” Lance resumed his seat at the table, although his color was high.
Her heart sinking, Theodora was unable to meet Conner’s gaze. “It’s a lovely morning.”
“Is it?” he snarled.
She risked a peek and found his eyes blazing with fury.
Although Conner was dressed much the same as Lance, he managed to look more masculine, more sensual, more dangerous, more everything. His blue coat stretched over his powerful arms and shoulders, while his breeches clung to his muscular thighs in a way that made her knees go weak.
Her gaze locked on his sensual mouth, now pressed into a furious line.
She collected herself and said, “You’re just in time for breakfast.” She took a seat at the table, then pulled the forgotten dish of eggs to her plate. “I must say, this inn has an amazing cook.” She smiled stiffly at Lance. “We should remember that, should we travel this way again.”
He nodded. “So we should. Come, Douglas, the ham is exceptional.” Despite his bold words, she was disappointed when Lance picked up his newspaper and disappeared behind it.
Conner fought the desire to rip the paper aside and punch the squire’s face. How could the fool—and Thea—expect him to act as if nothing unusual had happened after he’d seen Thea in that man’s bloody arms? How could he do anything after witnessing that?
His chest had tightened until he felt he couldn’t breathe, and his head rang in the oddest way. But as they were not reacting, neither could he. They were engaged to be wed, and an embrace was perfectly normal.
But it didn’t help him fight the fury that turned his vision red, and made his hands ache to throttle the squire, and it did nothing to cool the passion that burned through his veins at being so close to Thea.
He knew he should leave until his blood had cooled, but he’d be damned if he left them alone again. Ever.
Scowling, Conner sat down across from Thea.
Ignoring him, she filled her plate, the scent of thyme eggs and bacon making Conner’s stomach growl to match his mood. She returned the serving spoon to the dish, and then poured herself some tea. The morning sun slanted over her creamy skin and light brown hair, lighting strands to gold and caramel. Her thick lashes crested her cheeks as she added a lump of sugar to her tea.
She doesn’t look like a woman who’s just been kissed. After he’d kissed her, she’d been breathless, flushed with passion, and panting with desire. But she wasn’t the least bit breathless after Lance’s embrace—and though her color was high, her gaze was locked upon her tea. As if she were simply embarrassed.
Some of Conner’s fury abated and he leaned back in his chair. Perhaps this is not a disaster after all.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. God, but she was lovely. Every move she made was graceful, and though she was doing the most mundane of tasks—stirring her tea, taking a sip, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it—every gesture was fraught with sensuality. He found himself imagining her in his bed, naked except for her unbound hair, her lips pursed in just such a way, only instead of tea she was blowing on his—
“I vow, but the Regent is a disgrace!” Lance said from behind the paper, rattling it in irritation.
Startled, Thea looked up from her cup, and her gaze met Conner’s.
It was as if the world around them stilled, and disappeared. Her eyes, a deep melty brown, her lips—damp from her tea—parted as her breath rushed across them.
God, what he’d give to kiss that plump mouth. His body raged with fire, his cock so hard he wondered how it didn’t hit the bottom of the table.
He could see she was affected by him, too. Yet she’d just kissed that buffoon.
Or had she? All he’d witnessed was a hug, and not a very passionate one, now that he thought about it. Not yet, anyway. Conner frowned, and Thea dropped her gaze back to her teacup, a wistful expression crossing her flushed face.
And then it hit him. He was responsible for what had happened. I’ve been placing doubts in her head about this marriage, and it’s sent her into Lance’s arms, looking for assurance.
Conner could have kicked himself. He’d been trying to push them apart, and all he’d done was— He frowned. “Where’s your chaperone?”
Lance lowered his paper. “I hope she’s still sleeping. It would be good for her, considering the shock her system took from the icy rain. It wouldn’t surprise me if she took an ague—”
“Pardon me!” A voice from the door caused them all to turn toward a plump, yellow-haired maid ducking a curtsy.
“Alice.” Thea looked relieved. “We will need more eggs now that Mr. Douglas has joined us.”
The maid smiled at Conner, revealing a missing tooth. “Good morning, sir.”
He nodded.
It wasn’t encouraging, but she simpered nonetheless.
“Alice?” Thea asked gently. “The eggs?”
“What? Oh. Of course. But I came for a different reason. Mrs. Landry says the squire here asked about the turnips we served at dinner last night.” Alice cocked a disbelieving eye at Lance. “I told her she was suffering from deluges, but she swore you’d said it.”
“I believe it’s delusions,” Lance said.
“I knew it! I’ll tell her you said so.” Alice spun and began to tromp out of the room.
“No, wait!” Lance stood, tossing the paper aside. “I did indeed ask her about the turnips, and she said she’d let me know when the farmer who’d supplied them returned.”
“Gor’, I’d have never thought it. You like turnips that much, do you?”
“I have a farm and they were excellent. I’d like to see if I can buy some.”
“Oh! Well, he’s here now, he is. I’ll have him come see you.”
“That’s quite all right; I will speak with him in the kitchen. I daresay his boots are muddy. I assume he brought some other items with him?”
“He’s delivering potatoes today.”
“I’d like to see those, as well.” Lance bowed to Thea. “Pardon me, if you will. I want to see if I can get some turnips for my own—our—farm.”
“Of course,” she said.
Conner watched with satisfaction as Lance left.
The second the squire’s footsteps faded, Thea stood, dropping her napkin on the table. “I should go.”
“Why?” Conner spooned eggs onto his plate and then picked up his fork. “In a rush to find another mon to kiss?”
“You cannot be upset I kissed my own fiancé.”
He could, and he was. It was as if acid had been poured on his soul, and he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “You’re taking great chances with that mon.”
“Nonsense. I’m quite safe with him.”
“You’re nae safe with any mon—nae alone.” Not even me. Especially not me.
Her brows lifted, and she blew out her breath in disbelief. “I can’t believe you, of all people, are warning me about the dangers of being alone with a man!”
She had a point. “Aye, ’tis strange. But I worry aboot you and this—” He bit off his words, worried they’d pour out like molten lava.
“You’ve nothing to worry about when it comes to Lance. He’s a gentleman.”
She sounded . . . disappointed.
Had the kiss been unsatisfactory? Conner’s spirits rose a bit. Still, sometimes first kisses were awkward, but future ones— He frowned. He had to stop any future kisses. “Your chaperone should be here,” he said bluntly. “What guid is she if she’s sleeping while you’re being ravished over breakfast?”
“For the last time, it was just a— Blast it, I don’t have to answer to you, Conner Douglas.” Thea’s eyes flashed fire as she whirled on her heel and swept toward the door.
He threw his fork onto his plate, the sound making her steps quicken yet more. Like hell you’ll run from me! He leapt up from the table and was after her, catching her just as she grasped the doorknob.
He slapped his hand on the door above her head and held it closed. “We’re nae done talking.”
She spun to face him. “I have nothing to say to you.”
She was so close, he could see the golden streaks in her deep brown eyes.
“Thea, I’m worried aboot you—”
“I’m not a child.”
“But I—”
“No. No. And no.”
He opened his mouth.
“No!”
Dammit, I’m doing what I said I wouldn’t—challenging her until she’s forced into that man’s arms. Conner ground his teeth and then took a steadying breath. “I dinnae mean to anger you, lass.”
She crossed her arms. “Just move. I wish to see how Jane is faring.”
Conner scowled. He had no reason to keep her here, but he couldn’t make himself let her go.
She plopped her hands on her hips. “Move!”
“Not until you explain that embrace.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Everything aboot you is my business.”
Her eyes narrowed. “No. Everything about me is Lance’s business. He is my fiancé, not you. I don’t answer to you, so it’s my concern and no one else’s.”
“That’s— I’m nae— I should bundle you oop and take you back home, where you’ll be safe from your own foolishness!”
“I’m not going home. I’m moving forward with my life—or I am once you move out of my way.”
Conner didn’t budge.
She stepped forward, stubborn and furious, her chest a mere hairsbreadth from his. “Move. Now.”
He moved, his fury pushing him forward. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, smothering her protest with a kiss. He kissed her with every bit of the hurt he felt, every bit of the anger that simmered through him, every bit of the deep longing he felt every time he remembered that she’d chosen another man over him. I want her with every ounce of my soul.
For a second, she stayed frozen. But when he deepened the kiss, she melted against him with a suddenness that sent his senses reeling. Her arms slipped about his neck and she pressed herself to him, moaning softly as she opened her mouth to him.
The kiss deepened further, their breaths mingling, their bodies straining against one another. Her perfume filled his senses until he was drunk with it. The room disappeared, their anger burned away by the fury of passion. His hands slid up her back, and then down, cupping her perfect bottom, wanting her so badly he burned with it.
Her hands tangled in his lapels to hold him closer as her tongue brushed his, sending a wild flame through him, driving him into a wave of lust so strong he thought he would drown.
God, he wanted this woman. Desired her. Needed her. He lifted her off her feet and Thea shivered, her hands twining about his neck. Her full breasts were pressed to his chest, stirring—
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, accompanied by a feminine cough.
Jane.
Thea broke the kiss, blinking as if she’d just come awake, her breath as ragged as his own. Her gaze locked with his.
And he saw passion, regret, and a flash of deep sadness.
The intensity of her feelings stole his thoughts and chilled his roaring passion like ice on a fire.
He’d never meant to make her sad. Never.
His heart ached, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “Thea, my love. We—”
She pushed free, her eyes shiny with tears. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. Not again. I—I can’t have it.” She spoke quietly but with certainty, her voice husky.
“There’s something powerful between us,” he protested.
“Oh? Then what is it?” She waited, her gaze so direct that it burned.
He raked a hand through his hair, his thoughts still muddled by passion. “We’re . . . attracted to one another.”
“Attracted.” Her voice was dull, as if her feelings had been severed by his statement. “That’s all.”
Damn, he didn’t know what was what, not after that kiss. All he knew was that she burned him to the soul. “Dammit, I wish to God I’d seen this before now. Seen you. Somehow I missed this passion. You were always there, right in front of me, but I didn’t recognize you.”
“Why? What would you have done?”
He rubbed his jaw, his mouth still warm from her kisses. He tried to think, but his gaze fell on her lips and all thought disappeared. “Hell, lass, I dinnae know.”
She gave a pained laugh. “And that is why that kiss should have never happened. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to meet Jane.”
“Thea, wait.” Conner took a step toward her, but he was too late.
She’d already yanked open the door and whisked from the room, her skirts swirling as she disappeared.
He was left with empty arms, his body still afire.
Blast it to hell! Conner scowled, the coolness of Thea’s expression as she’d left sinking the small amount of hope he’d managed to find. He’d made things worse. He should never have kissed her. Every time they were alone, he found himself pulling her into his arms, which only made her more determined to avoid him.
Bloody hell, I sailed my ship directly into the eye of a hurricane. He’d have to change course quickly, or there would be no recovering.
So what the hell was he supposed to do now? Thea needed to spend time with the squire in order to see his unsuitability, but Conner would never again trust that man to be alone with her. Sadly, Jane wasn’t a fit chaperone. The girl could barely take care of herself.
Out in the hallway he could hear Jane telling Thea of the restless night she’d faced and all of her new complaints, every tenth word or so accompanied by an annoying sniff.
Conner couldn’t handle more people right now. Cursing to himself, he headed for the servants’ door, leaving the breakfast room empty.