The answer echoed in her mind: Yes!
All her life her mother had practically ignored her while her father had lectured her. Her brothers had been away at school or consumed with their own affairs. Welly was the only creature who ever appeared genuinely pleased to see her, who wanted to cuddle and snuggle with her.
“Is it so wrong to want affection?” she asked no one in particular, freeing herself from the Viking’s grip and pacing about a square of the garden. “Is it so wrong to want to be loved and held and kissed and—and ravished?”
“Ravished?” The word came out so low it was barely audible.
Lorrie ceased pacing and glanced at the Viking. She’d forgotten he was there for a moment. But then, what did it matter? It was not as though he were a gentleman who would be shocked at her admission. “Just because I am a woman does not mean I don’t have desires. I want to be kissed and touched, like you touched me at the prince’s ball.”
The Viking shook his head, as though he would rather she hadn’t mentioned the incident. Well, she had to mention it. She couldn’t seem to forget it. “I know it is sinful to want such things when I’m a maiden, but if you would only allow me to leave the garden, I will go to Francis and persuade him to elope. Then even the church will sanction all my wicked feelings.”
“No.”
Lorrie did stomp her foot then, and she wished she could lift the rock under her foot and hurl it at his head. “You kiss me then.”
“No.” The Viking’s tone was firm and unwavering.
“Well, that seems monstrously unfair. Next I suppose you will tell me I should behave as a lady ought, control my desires, and go meekly to bed.”
He began to nod.
“I don’t wish to behave as a lady ought! I am so very, very weary of behaving as I ought. I am exhausted by pretending I have no needs and wants of my own. And if my parents have their way, I will be locked away forever, the wife of some man I do not love. Think of that. Decades deprived of affection and love and the touch of the man I desire.”
The Viking had not moved. If Lorrie hadn’t known better, she would have thought him a statue.
“Why did you kiss me at Carlton House?” she demanded petulantly. “Was it just to give me a taste of what I cannot have? Perhaps you enjoy watching me throw myself at you. Well, it won’t happen again. I will go back to my room tonight, but I will find a way to see Francis. I am determined. And when I have made up my mind to do a thing, no one stands in my way.”
*
Ewan followed her to her room, leaving plenty of distance between them. He made sure she was safely inside with the door locked behind her before he ventured back to the garden to stare up at the tree. The offending branch would have to be cut. His heart had all but seized when he’d seen her creep onto it. Of course, it might have been the view of her trim ankles, but Ewan was not usually a man rendered immobile by the sight of a lady’s ankle.
He’d order the tree branch trimmed and then he would only have to keep watch on the doors. Fortunately, the dog tended to bark and scamper about when his mistress was awake. Ewan had trained himself to listen for the dog and thus always knew when Lady Lorraine was active in her room.
It was sheer coincidence he was here tonight. His room at the town house was comfortable, but he’d taken to sleeping at Langley’s when he was not out with the Ridlingtons until the wee hours. His charge had not been too much trouble of late, and he had thought it was safe to let down his guard.
Only then he’d remembered the time in Belgium when he and Wraxall had been watching an armory with the intent of breaking in and stealing weapons and ammunition. The entire group had been low on supplies and, without any means of replenishing them, they’d been forced to scavenge and steal when their coin had run out. Ewan and Neil had watched the armory for a day and a night without being spotted—or so they’d thought. Neil had noted the comings and goings and formulated a plan of attack. He and Ewan had sat on the roof of the building overlooking the armory, eating stolen bread and apples, and waiting until night fell so that they might return to the other men under cover of darkness and explain the plan. He and Neil had let their guard down, and it had almost killed them.
While they’d been lounging about, watching the sunset, soldiers from the armory had ascended the steps of the building and burst onto the roof, rifles firing. Ewan and Neil had taken cover behind a chimney and attempted to shoot their way out. But, of course, the reason they’d been watching the armory—or supposed to be watching the armory—was that they’d been low on ammunition. They’d run out long before the French soldiers had. Then Neil had been hit in the arm and a shot grazed Ewan’s side, and the two had decided they had better run. They’d gone down the chimney—mercifully no fire had been burning in it—and made it out.
Ewan still had nightmares about that escape. He would have rather been shot than stuck in that chimney again. Several times his shoulders had caught, and he’d thought he might die in the brick tomb. But Neil had pulled him free, and that was just one of the reasons Ewan owed Neil.
The team had returned and stormed the armory. They’d lost a man, but they’d killed a lot more of Napoleon’s soldiers and replenished their stores of weapons and food. Ewan had learned a valuable lesson. Never let your guard down.
Lady Lorraine wasn’t quite as dangerous as the soldiers at the armory but she was every bit as wily, and Ewan didn’t intend to be stuffed in a chimney ever again. He’d cut the branch down himself if he had to.
She might be determined, but so was he. If it came to a test of wills, Ewan had no doubt he could best her.
He wandered back inside and slumped in a chair in his bedchamber. He liked the chamber better in the dark than the light. The room had been done in blue and gold, and while it was very regal, it made him uncomfortable.
Lady Lorraine made him equally uncomfortable. She’d asked why he’d kissed her at Carlton House, and it was a fair question. Why the hell had he kissed her? He’d asked himself that a thousand times. At the time he’d told himself it was to prove to her that Francis was not the only man who could kiss her and evoke a response.