Page 89 of One Night with a Prince
Christabel choked back a laugh. For a woman who knew so much about her son’s mistresses, Mrs. Byrne was surprisingly concerned about appearances.
Then again, here at his estate Byrne might be an entirely different person—the lord of the manor, a respectable gentleman. Christabel could hardly imagine it.
“Good night, Mother,” Byrne said.
They started to leave, then on impulse Christabel broke from him and ran back to the bed to place a kiss on Mrs. Byrne’s scarred cheek. “Thank you for telling me about him,” she whispered. Tears filled his mother’s eyes. “Thank you for trying to understand him.”
When Christabel returned to Byrne’s side, he was watching her with thinly veiled curiosity. As soon as they left the room, however, he said, “I take it you and my mother had a very emotional chat. I suppose she bombarded you with questions about your association with me?”
“What we discussed is private.”
“And I hope it will stay private outside of this house as well,” he said tersely, as they strolled together down the hall.
“I would never betray your confidence, or hers. Surely you know that.”
He shot her a shuttered glance. “I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d thought otherwise. Though I do wish she’d allow me to tell people about her. I’d like to have her in London, where she could be better cared for.”
“What does she suffer from?”
“Weak lungs. The doctors say it’s unrelated to the fire, but I have my doubts. In recent years, she’s been plagued by agues and pleurisy during the autumn and winter. They’ve brought her near to death a few times, so I often have to make emergency trips to Bath.”
He brought her to a halt outside her bedchamber door, and his manner changed. “I…er…that is…tonight you’ll—”
“Be sleeping alone.” She gazed up at him, eyes twinkling. “I gathered as much.”
“I suppose you find this very amusing,” he grumbled.
“That the wicked Mr. Byrne would put his mistress in a separate bedchamber out of respect for his mother?” she teased. “No, indeed. Why should I find that amusing?”
With a dangerous glint in his eyes, he pressed her against the door. “Perhaps I should remind you how IGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlgot my reputation for wickedness in the first place—”
He kissed her, so deeply and soulfully it roused a painful ache in her chest that had nothing to do with desire. When he drew back long moments later, she could see in his eyes that he felt something else, too. But all he said was, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Treating my mother like a person.”
She stared at him. “Sheis a person.”
“I know. But people confronted by a monstrous face tend to treat the person beneath it as a monster, too. Thank you for being better than that.”
“You’re welcome,” she said softly, a lump in her throat. When he bent to kiss her again, she stopped him. “But if you keep kissing me, I may be tempted to make your sacrifice to propriety all for naught.”
He laughed. “Then I’d better say good night, darling.”
“Good night…Gavin.”
He started to walk away, then stopped as it registered that she’d called him by his Christian name. He glanced back at her, one eyebrow raised.
She shrugged. “So you havetwo women calling you that—why not?”
“Why not indeed?” he answered. But his eyes burned into hers a long moment before he walked down the hall and entered his own room.
“Sleep well, my sweet prince,” she whispered after his door was closed. Her dear, sweet Prince of Sin. Christabel entered her own room, feeling bereft not to have him there with her. He was rapidly proving to be not so sinful after all. He was proving to be a man she might be able to trust, to care for…to love.
Never say those words to him if you want to remain his mistress. Blinking back tears, she unfastened her gown, then stripped off her stockings and sat down on the bed. What was she going to do about Gavin? Aboutloving Gavin? Because she did love him. She saw that now. And she began to believe that in time he might actually be capable of loving her, too. But they didn’t have time. The letters lay between them like the proverbial elephant in the room. Now that she knew the full extent of why he hated the prince, she knew he would never give up until he learned what was in them, even if he had to deal with Lord Stokely privately to do so. She groaned. Gavin and Lord Stokely could make plans together, and she would never know. She couldn’t be with Gavin every minute of every day, and as time grew short, she wasn’t the only one who’d grow more desperate.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlWell, she could fret over how he’d act if he got to them on his own and realized their massive significance. Or she could trust him with the truth. She could take a chance that if she told him everything and impressed upon him the seriousness of what would happen if he tried to use the letters, he might let his conscience be his guide.
