Page 38 of The Last Chance
“I mean to ensure my family’s long-term future.”
And what about your future? she wanted to say while battling a host of strange sensations: a longing in her heart and anewfound ache in her loins, a swell of pride for him rising like a warm tide in her chest.
“You’ve given them everything they could want. Money keeps a man safe and dry from the elements. Love and friendship nourish the soul.”
“I strive for a balance in all things,” he said.
“That’s not entirely true. You neglect yourself.”
“I have everything I need and want.”
Would he ever admit to wanting her?
Or had Eloise misheard, her confession just a silly mistake?
“And yet your tone lacks conviction.”
He blew out the last candle, plunging them into darkness. Despite the abrupt end to their conversation, the palpable energy flowing between them did not need eyes or a voice.
The atmosphere shifted, unspoken desire humming in the air like a hypnotic melody. Did he feel the sudden crackle of electricity dancing over his skin? Did he struggle to think of anything but their bodies pressed together, swaying in time to the music? Had she imagined the soft brush of his fingers against hers as he moved past her to open the door?
“We shouldn’t linger.” He stood in the hall now, a stoic figure, a martyr to his cause. “It’s cold tonight. I suspect you’ll want to hurry upstairs and bury yourself beneath a mound of blankets.”
“I might light a lamp and read for a while.”
“I suggest you sleep.” He waited for her to climb the stairs and followed behind. “We’ll need our wits when Daventry tries to draw us deeper into his devious trap.”
“His devious trap?”
“They say Daventry is the most cunning matchmaker in London.” He caught up with her but kept his gaze trained ahead. “Be warned. He may try to take advantage of our current living situation.”
She cast him a sidelong glance. “I’m sure he knows youvowed never to put a woman before your family. It’s not like he has the power to make people fall in love.”
“It won’t stop him interfering in our affairs.”
“I shall tell him I plan to marry Gabriel.” She knew Mr Chance disliked her speaking about the marquess. “He is quite open about his desire to make me his wife.”
“It’s hardly a case of desire,” he said bluntly. “Rothley made it sound like a business proposition. A marriage in name only. Besides, you told him you would marry me.”
“Yes, I do apologise.” Thankfully, he had not contradicted her in front of Gabriel. “It’s all I could think to say. You know I would only ever marry for love.”
They reached the dimly lit landing, the soft glow of a single wall sconce casting shadows on the dark wood wainscoting. She touched his upper arm and bid him good night.
Heavens, he was built like a gladiator of Rome.
Mr Chance inclined his head. “Good night.”
“Did you order my breakfast for tomorrow?”
His half-smile stole her breath. “And inconvenience my staff? You enjoy causing mischief, and it’s easier to let you.”
“I’m a woman. I was born to turn your life upside down.”
He did not peruse her female attributes as some men would and agree she was a fine example of her sex. “Finally, a point on which we both agree.”
On that amusing note, they parted ways.
She walked a few steps and stopped. Mr Chance had lowered his guard tonight: the brief touch of their hands in the dark, the subtle smile that said he enjoyed their conversation. He would never be as vulnerable as he was in that moment.
