Page 48 of While You Were Spying

“This morning.”

“Oh.” She was saved!

His eyes were still intent on her face, but now she felt more relieved than uneasy. Her father would never allow the notorious Marquess of Winterbourne to remain at Tanglewilde.

“Then I suppose you’ll be leaving soon?” She couldn’t quite keep the pleasure out of her voice. Again, she noticed he kept his hand behind his back. She sniffed and craned her neck to see what he was hiding.

“No.”

She started, but he merely smiled in response.

“No?” she said. “What do you mean?” Perhaps he’d taken her too literally and meant to say that he’d be leaving after dinner.

“I told you this morning, I’m staying.”

“My father won’t allow that,” she sputtered before she could stop herself.

“Your father has agreed wholeheartedly to my extended visit, as he calls it.”

She could only stare at him in disbelief as he gave her a look rife with self-satisfaction. He probably would have leaned back and crossed his arms in his familiar, arrogant gesture as well if one hand was not still positioned behind his back. Whatwashe hiding? She wrinkled her nose. She smelled something familiar, something sweet...

“Your father has even conceded my other requests.”

His last statement snagged her attention again. “Otherrequests?”

“Several.”

She waited, but it didn’t appear as though he intended to elaborate. “Lord Winterbourne—”

He shook his head. “Ethan.”

“Pardon?” She gaped at him, and he had the gall to wink at her.

“Call me Ethan.”

She blinked, then snorted. “I hardly think such familiarity appropriate.” She squared her shoulders. “In fact, we shouldn’t even be alone together.”

“Why not? It’s accepted practice for people in our situation. Chocolate tart, Francesca?” He held out the arm he’d been hiding behind his back.

The plate he held was laden with warm, freshly baked chocolate tarts, and the smell of sweet, rich chocolate wafted over her. He handed her a small china plate from the tea service beside the couch. “Take one.”

“I—” she began, eyes feasting on the temptation. Distracted, she tried to remember what he’d said a moment before. She glanced away from the tart for an instant. “What do you mean,people in our situation?”

He grinned, held the plate out again. Her stomach rumbled, and her gaze slashed back to the plate. She almost reached for a tart. “I shouldn’t.” Her attention shifted to the door. “My mother—I’m not hungry.” She sat back in the chair and tried to mean it.

He picked up a tart and set it on the small plate he held before her. “I checked with the staff. You haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“That’s not true,” she protested. “My maid brought me a tray of tea and toast this morning.” She didn’t add,After you left.

“Which you didn’t touch.” He moved the plate closer. “I know these are your favorites. Take one.”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head.

“Fine.” He sat back and withdrew the plate. “I’ll send them back.”

“Wait,” she squeaked when he reached for the bell to summon the footman. Her stomach rumbled again.

His hand paused above the bell, and he gave her a sidelong glance.

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