Page 41 of Gambling with the Earl
She put her hands to her face in distress. If only she could find the jewels and be gone, put all this confusion behind her.
The earl cleared his throat and Kitty straightened up. Had he witnessed her moment of weakness?
“My business with Owain is unfinished,” he said, his voice expressionless.
She took a deep breath. “And with his daughter?”
Now his surprise showed on his face. “I have had no dealings with his daughter. I know nothing of her, save the unfortunate fact of her parentage.”
It was not what she had been expecting. She turned again to the window so he shouldn’t see the bewilderment in her eyes. The gate to the inner courtyard banged shut, and the unmistakable figure of Thomas strode into view. She gripped her hands into fists with frustration. He would be on his way here, which meant she had only minutes at her disposal.
She whirled around, her eyes frantically scanning the room. It was furnished sparsely with merely a canopied bed, a lone closet and a colourless tapestry on the wall. The coin chests, she ignored. She’d witnessed them being hauled from the well that day and knew they were unlikely to conceal what she sought.
Beside her was the washstand, from where she had fetched the basin. Her gaze flickered down and confirmed what she already knew. The only other items it contained were a rather jagged comb and a chipped jug.
What parsimony from a man as rich as he.
“What ails you, Kitty?” he asked her directly.
“I am thinking that these chests should be moved, my lord. Else you may fall once more.”
It was the wrong thing to say. A look of great irritation passed over his handsome face.
“I am not in the habit of tripping. Do you think me a child who has not yet learned to walk?”
She thought quickly. “No, my lord. Merely that they are positioned so inconveniently.”
“I will have Thomas see to it.”
That was her cue to leave. Her time was up. Her gaze raked once more over the room and landed on the small writing desk. It was in the far corner of the room, too distant to warrant a casual stroll towards it, but she had plucked the feather quill from its stand on the desk earlier. She knew it was bare save a sheaf of papers and an abandoned saddlebag.
Her heart rate picked up. The saddlebag. She’d thought at the time that it was an odd shape. Something bulged within it. Something that could so easily be her cloth bag of jewels.
What pretence could she have for striding across his chamber once more? The feather quill she had laid carefully on a small bedside chest, and it would be most strange for her to return to it. Her mind went blank under his watchful gaze. Did he know what thoughts were racing around her head? Was he even now wondering where he had previously seen such a blaze of colourful hair?
“May I get you anything further, before I leave?”
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up slowly. She had forgotten about his height and obvious strength. Bare-chested as he was, she could see each clearly-defined muscle rippling beneath his bronzed skin. Even the angry, snaking scar could do nothing to diminish his physicality.
The delicious tension she’d felt earlier pulsed once again, deep inside her.
“You can fetch me a fresh shirt.”
She walked quickly over to his closet, glad of the clearly defined task. Hope jumped inside her that her jewels may be somewhere inside, but one quick look confirmed otherwise.
The saddlebag on the writing desk. They were hidden there. She knew it in her bones.
She pulled out a clean shirt and tentatively held it out towards him. Would he expect her to put it on him? She had never dressed a man. Her arms shook at the idea of once again coming close to him.
But he merely took the shirt from her and nodded his thanks.
She must leave. There was no good reason to extend her stay, and at any moment Thomas would appear. All was not lost, not when the earl wanted her to sing for him in his solar and tend further to his injuries tomorrow.
She thought quickly. “I will find herbs to better aid your recovery, my lord.”
He looked pleased. “Good. You can bring them for me tomorrow.”
“Of course.” That was her plan.
