Page 85 of The Art of Sinning
Jeremy thought quickly. “I sat down to rest for a moment and fell asleep. I had just roused and was changing my clothes when you knocked. So I’m afraid I haven’t gotten any packing done yet.”
God, he sounded like an idiot.
“I suppose you want me to doyourpacking, too,” Damber grumbled. “It’s nearly two a.m. I thought you wanted everything done by now so we could head off first thing.”
He couldn’t leave now. Everything had changed. “Actually, I’ve decided to delay my departure a few days.”
“What?” Damber crossed his arms over his chest. “After I already packed up the paints and canvases and the—”
“Yes, yes, unpack it all.”
“Tonight?”
Jeremy took pity on the lad. “It can wait until morning. But early, mind you. By the time the family is up I want everything back in place, before anyone can wonder what’s going on.”
“The servants are still going to wonder. They already knew we were leaving. What do you want me to tellthemis the reason for staying?”
Damn, he’d forgotten that. After he offered for Yvette, which he intended to do first thing in the morning, they might very well speculate about what had happened in the wee hours to change his mind.
He couldn’t have anyone gossiping about his future wife. “Tell them I got a good look at the portrait in the light of day and realized I wasn’t as far along as I thought.”
That would also serve as an excuse for remaining if Yvette turned down his first offer. Because, damn it, he wasn’t going to leave here without securing her hand in marriage. If he had to work on that bloody portrait for a month to have time to convince her, then he would.
“So you want I should tell the grooms to stable the curricle?”
“Yes, then you may go on to bed.”
“Are you sure?”
Jeremy glanced sharply at him. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
The hulking fellow shoved his hands in his pockets. “I dunno. You’re acting peculiar is all. One minute we’re sneaking about the house to pack up and slip away in the dark of night, and the next you’re having a nap. Not to mention that the room smells like... like...” He sniffed.
“Like what?”
“Like you been tupping one of the maids.”
Oh, God. Jeremy laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as false to his apprentice as it sounded to him. “Have you ever known me to tup a maid?”
“Well, no. But there’s always a first time.”
“You’re imagining things,” Jeremy said irritably. “Now, out with you. I can’t go to bed as long as you’re lounging about in my room.”
Damber sniffed. “Just trying to help. But I’ll make myself scarce, I will.” He headed out the door, muttering, “I swear, sometimes I think you mad as a hatter. Or p’raps a little...”
The boy’s mumbling trailed off down the hall. With a roll of his eyes, Jeremy closed the door and headed straight for the brandy flask he kept on his dressing table.
Only a few hours until dawn. No point in going to bed now; he wouldn’t get any sleep. Besides, Blakeborough was an early riser, so if Jeremy wanted to catch him and offer for Yvette before she got up, he’d better stay up.
All right, he supposed he should wait until she agreed to marry him. But it wasn’t unusual for a suitor to first ask a woman’s male guardian for her hand. And it couldn’t hurt to get her brother on his side. Especially with Yvette surprisingly reluctant.
Cursing, Jeremy drank from his flask. Hehadhandled it badly, damn it. He should have made it sound less as if it were a “duty” and more as if he were in love with her. Though that probably wouldn’t have worked. Yvette could read him too well for that. And he would have been lying.
He scowled. Yes, lying. Just because he thought about her too much, wanted her too much... craved her too much didn’t mean he loved her. Love was about putting someone first. Clearly he didn’t know the first thing about that. If he’d loved her, he wouldn’t have tumbled her with no heed for the consequences. Or risked her reputation by letting her talk him into taking her to a brothel. Or done any number of the things he’d done in the last few weeks with her.
And clearly she knew he was a bad bargain. She hadn’t agreed to marry him, had she? She hadn’t made any grand professions of love herself.
I’m not waiting for anything from you. You’ve told me often enough that you have no intention of taking a wife—a second wife, that is—and I took you at your word.
