Page 48 of Any Rogue Will Do
“Lady Agatha’s home has been under construction, leaving her tae rent the house next door tae Cal. I suppose they’ll move back tae Berkeley Square, then.” No more Lottie next door. No more window views. But he’d be damned if she’d back out of their morning rides. Seeing her grumpy morning face at the beginning of each day was something he looked forward to.
Connor took Ethan’s overcoat and plucked the hat from his head. “She’s in the library right now.”
Ethan squeezed Connor’s shoulder in thanks and hurried down the hall.
Tonight’s gown glowed like an ember in the firelight, with the flickering flames casting her olive skin and inky hair in stark relief. Sitting in his chair reading, she seemed right at home. This time had essentially been a break from reality. A tease of what life could be if only things were different. “I hear you’ll be leaving me soon, lass.”
Lottie looked up from the book with a start. “I didn’t hear you enter. We missed you at dinner.” She closed the book, then crossed to where he stood. “How are the Thatchers?”
“First, kiss me. I’ve no’ tasted you in hours.” She was smiling when his lips met hers. Again, the rightness of the moment struck him. Unable to let her go quite yet, he placed a light kiss on her forehead. “The Thatchers are tired but healthy, and besotted with their wee one.”
“What did they name the babe?” Lottie resumed her seat, leaving him to follow.
“Beatrice.” Ethan sighed and sank into the chair beside hers. After his time in the cold wet, the warmth of the fire was heaven. “I wish you’d seen her, Lottie. Such a wee bit of a thing. Her head fit in my palm. She’s only as long as my forearm. Didn’ cry the whole time, except tae eat. Mrs. Thatcher thanked you for the basket.”
“I’m glad she liked it. Beatrice sounds precious.”
“Aye, she is. Now what’s this Connor tells me about you leaving tomorrow?”
The book in her hand caught her attention. Her long fingers stroked the spine in a habit he’d become familiar with this week. When he stilled her fingers with his hand, she flipped her hand, intertwining their fingers as if they’d been doing it for years instead of days.
“I’m sure Connor told you. Agatha’s home will be ready for us to move in by the end of the week. Much remains to be done before we move house. We leave for London in the morning. Darling is packing my things as we speak.”
“The real world intruded at Woodrest, aye?” Ethan rested his head on the chair back but kept his gaze and hand on her. “Thank you for sharing my home for a short while.”
Her posture mirrored his, with her smile just as tired as he felt. “I’ve enjoyed my time here. Particularly how you’ve included me in your duties and business discussions. Thank you for not expecting me to sit in the front parlor and knit.”
“Ach, lass, I know better than that. You’ve run things for years at Stanwick. Why wouldn’ I include you?”
“I’ve been trying to determine if there’s a way to fit you—us, I mean—into my plans. I’m not saying I expect you to actually marry me—that would be presumptuous, wouldn’t it? But our time here has me questioning everything—even my plans. And my plans have perfectly sound reason to support them.” She appeared flustered, shaking her head at her own words. “Never mind. Ignore all that.”
A bittersweet ache pierced him at seeing her unsure of herself. “I don’ want our time together tae end either. You know I want you. But no, I’m not a man who fits in your plans. If I married you, I’d want you in my bed every night. I’d want you by my side, not in some far-off estate living alone. The future you want and the one I’m making here don’ fit together, lass. One of us would have tae change everything.”
“Let’s just say for argument’s sake that we did marry,” she began. Her face was so serious, he could almost see her labeling and organizing thoughts, puzzling a way through this conversation. Hope bloomed, even though he knew odds were against them finding middle ground. “Would you still treat me that way? Including me in estate matters, I mean.”
Ethan squeezed her hand. “’Tis what you’ve trained for.”
Lottie studied him. “Easy as that? No arguments or masculine posturing?”
“Where I come from, the women work as hard as the men. I’d no’ expect you tae sit and lounge your days away unless you wish it, lass. You’re no’ the type. But even if you changed your plans tae include me—which is a big if—the earl hates me.”
She sagged back in her chair. “Yes, he does.”
He pursed his lips and nodded. There wasn’t much more to say. The earl was her last remaining relative. Ethan would not be a wedge between them. Having no family of his own, he couldn’t ask her to alienate hers.
The weak evening light outside didn’t reach the far wall of the library, where the fire roared near their chairs. The dim atmosphere, warmed by the flames, created the perfect scene for seduction. If they came together this evening, the passion would be colored with desperation, given the reality of their situation. But stealing one last taste of her was a temptation impossible to resist. He rose from his chair, reaching for her despite the knowledge that goodbye loomed. “Lass, we only have—”
Lottie had already lifted her chin for a kiss they both wanted when Agatha burst into the room. “We’re hosting a ball—a grand event celebrating your engagement and the completion of the construction. All those who flee Town in the summer will regret missing it. If invitations go out by the end of the week, a few families might find their way back to London early. We only have a few weeks before Parliament sits again anyway.”
Lottie shook her head at her godmother and shot him a look. “Isn’t an engagement ball deceptive? Not to mention expensive?”
A ball sounded like a lot of fuss to raise expectations he knew would be dashed—along with his foolish hopes that somehow he and Lottie might create a future together. But if Lady Agatha wanted a ball, she’d get a ball. That woman was a force of nature.
“Darling girl, never discuss finances in mixed company. Terribly crass, love. Since I am your guardian while you are in London, celebrating the engagement will let everyone know the family supports this match.”
“But Father won’t actually—”
Lady Agatha swept out of the room as quickly as she’d come, leaving Ethan and Lottie staring after her. A few moments before, the air had been thick with possibility, then the harsh sting of reality. Now silence fell, each retreating to their thoughts—someplace the other couldn’t follow.
