Page 80 of Sloth: The Fallen Earl
“Do you really mean he was checking to see if I’d run off?”
The young girl’s lips twitched. “Not many would be running away from Lord Wakefield. He has quite a reputation as being a kind, good master, and he’s very generous with his servants.”
Cressida had expected nothing less. Whereas her brother treated staff like scum and close, if not worse, than how he treated Cressida. Then something the woman said reached her.
“He is in the morning room?” she asked tremulously.
“Aye, miss.”
The morning room. When she’d instructed him where to meet, never had she believed he’d actually forfeit his office forthe impending exchange. And yet he had. He didn’t seek to dominate her. He didn’t—
Nancy cleared her throat. “Though his lordship referred to it as the lady of the house’s office.”
Cressida’s breath hitched.
And yet the fact remained—he’d had her followed. He might extend her every kindness, but he did not offer that greatest gift—his trust.
“Please inform his lordship I will be along shortly.”
Nancy nodded and dipped a curtsy, then hastened off.
Cressida took several more moments and composed her thoughts before heading off. When she arrived in the morning room, she discovered Benedict pacing on the Axminster carpet. The sight of his broad shoulders—shoulders big enough to carry the entire weight of the world and certainly her own problems—was so very appealing.
On his path back around, he caught sight of Cressida.
Benedict stopped. He gave her a wary once over.
“I expect you have questions,” she said.
Before he could speak, he closed his mouth. She’d apparently flustered him and wrestled control of the discussion.
Disarming had been a skill she’d had to perfect over the years in a bid for self-preservation. Never before had it proven more useful than it did right now, and that was saying something indeed.
Cressida quietly closed the door behind them. She lingered at the entryway a moment before going over to join him at the pair of elegant bergère upholstered chairs.
Benedict waited until she had claimed her seat.
“You had me followed,” she said to maintain that vantage.
“Yes.” He delivered that so plainly and succinctly, making absolutely no effort to hide it. But then why should he? He’d done nothing wrong.
“I see,” she said, folding her hands primly on her lap. “Then, going forward, should I notify a certain somebody when I’m intending to go out?”
“Can we quit this, Cressida?” he said quietly. “Can we cease pretending that you were out for a morning visit to the shops or attending the theater? It was none of those things. You were on a side of London no respectable lady would ever be caught in, let alone at the dead of night.”
His words hit more painfully than Stanley’s blow.
“Ah, yes,” she said with a tight, pained smile. “But then, given the circumstances of our meeting last evening, I think we can both agree that I’m not your typical lady.”
“No, you’re not,” he said.
She tried to find any hint of disdain or condescension, but his words were as matter of fact and composed as the lines of his harshly angular features.
“Who were you meeting there?” he asked.
She hesitated. “I was there looking for someone.”
“I gathered as much. Who were you looking to meet and did that meeting already take place?”
