And he didn’t sleep in that bed wearing a damn nightgown.
He finished unbuttoning his shirt, pulled it off and tossed it over the back of a chair. Remembering how Evie had floundered at the sight of his bare chest, his mouth hooked up in a half smile. She was lovely when she blushed. She was always lovely to his mind—those enormous brown eyes, the soft curve of her cheek, the tempting figure that was somehow both slight and generous. How many nights had he lain awake, imagining that figure beneath him, over him, around…?
He uttered a single succinct curse and stalked to the windows to throw them wide, knowing full well no self-respecting villain would be so foolish as to climb through them. One more reason he wasn’t fit for Evie’s company, let alone her favor. He’d lied to her, smoothly and without remorse.
But he’d be damned if he would take up a room at the other end of the hall for propriety’s sake. The difference between life and death was often the matter of a few precious seconds. What if she had need of him? What if she screamed?
He made a conscious effort to relax. She was just a few feet away from where he stood. She was fine. She was safe.
He was bloody well going to make sure she stayed that way.
Five
Evie made her way downstairs with her mouth stretched open in an enormous yawn and—because it was difficult to see properly whilst yawning—with one hand gripped firmly on the banister. She’d been woken before first light by Mrs. Summers and practically shoved out of bed by Lizzy. She’d been fed, clothed, and left to arrange the business of seeing her things downstairs before her eyes had fully opened. She had managed, eventually, to see to the task, but rather feared she had groused unfairly at one of the footmen in the process. Mornings, as any of her family could attest, did not show Evie to advantage.
Now she was tired, feeling guilty, and giving serious consideration to the idea that the whole charade wasn’t worth the bother. First light, for pity’s sake. Was there anyone in full possession of his faculties who preferred to start the day at first light?
“Looks as if you could use this.”
Evie stopped at the foot of the stairs and blinked, first at the realization that Whit was standing before her and then at the steaming cup he held out for her.
“Hot chocolate.” She sighed with delight and took the drink to draw in the heady aroma. “Bless you, cousin mine. All I’ve had this morning is an undercooked egg and a cup of weak tea.”
“The staff’s a bit preoccupied, I’m afraid.”
He stepped back, affording her a view through the open front doors. The drive was a hive of activity—footmen loading the carriage, grooms checking the horses, maids running about doing…she had no idea what. Lady Thurston, Mrs. Summers, and Mr. Fletcher stood on the front steps, overseeing it all. Somewhere in all the mess was very likely the man they meant as a match for her. He’d have arrived last night, surely. Or before she’d risen, the poor soul. Likely he was on the other side of the carriage, she mused, or off doing whatever it was Mr. Hunter and McAlistair were doing.
She gestured to the open doors. “Isn’t this rather obvious? If anyone were watching the house—”
“McAlistair and Mr. Hunter are checking the grounds now. There’s no one about who shouldn’t be.”
“It’s a large area to go over. What if they’re mistaken?”
“They’re not.”
She eyed him speculatively. “You’re very sure of them.”
“I have my reasons.”
How very interesting. She dearly wished she were awake enough to devise a clever plan to find out those reasons. If she tried now, with her head still foggy, she’d only embarrass herself and possibly make Whit suspicious.
She took another sip of hot chocolate and said, half to herself, “I suppose it doesn’t matter, as you’ll be along to—” She broke off, realizing for the first time that he wasn’t dressed to travel. “Aren’t you coming along?”
His mouth compressed into a thin line. “No. It was agreed I should stay here and search for the bastard with Alex and William. Begging your pardon.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why you insist on apologizing when you know I’m not offended.”
“Habit,” Whit answered with a shrug.
“Well, it’s damned annoying,” she teased and leaned up to kiss his cheek when he scowled. “I suppose it’s best that you remain here. Sophie, Mirabelle, and Kate will be returning eventually. Alex might be able to convince Sophie not to interfere, but Mirabelle and Kate are another matter.”
“I can handle my wife and sister.”
“Delighted to hear it. May I inform them you said so, upon my return?”
“Absolutely not.”
She laughed softly as Whit gave her a one-armed hug about the shoulders.
He stepped back and searched her face. “You’re taking this very well.”