Page 54 of Her Wicked Highwayman
No, it certainly wasn’t. She’d been drenched the night he’d abducted her and taken her to the lodge, but he’d insisted on getting her out of the clothes, just as he would now.
Rafe looked Diana over from head to foot. “You and Rosalind are of a similar size. I’m quite sure she would lend you a dressing gown.” He began to leave, but she caught his wrist.
“Rafe, please don’t trouble her. She’s been so wonderful to help me already.”
“Help you? With what?”
She hesitated. “It is something of a personal nature. I couldn’t possibly ask for another favor.”
“Nonsense. You savedmy daughter. Isla is Rosalind’s niece. She would do anything for you, as would I.” He meant it. Whatever concerns he’d had about whether Diana could fit into his and Isla’s lives had been answered by her valiant actions. He and his family owed her everything.
I shall marry you one day,Diana.
“Wait here. I shall return in a moment.” He found a footman in the corridor and instructed him to seek out Rosalind and ask to borrow a spare dressing gown, then returned to the nursery and sat beside Diana in a silent vigil at Isla’s bedside.
When Diana returned, she wore a dark-blue dressing gown bound loose at her waist with a white sash tied into a ribbon at the back. Her hair was damp, loose tendrils curling around her face and down her shoulders.
She looked as wild and untamed as the night he’d taken her from that coach. That night he’d had his way with her, and she’d been passionate, wild, out of control. But now... now he wanted only the feel of her hand in his and the promise that her soft brown eyes held if he dared to wrap his arms around her—but as Rafe and not her wicked Tyburn.
He held out his hand. When she took it, he wanted to pull her onto his lap to cuddle her. It was hard to remember that she didn’t know that he was secretly Tyburn. Only Tyburn was free to kiss her, to make love to her. Rafe was bound by other rules, and he dared not break them, lest he lose her.
To her, Rafe was still a stranger, and he could frighten her away by pulling her onto his lap and kissing her with the adoration and gratitude he held in his heart. So he contented himself with holding on to her hand as they watched his child sleep.
It was close to midnight when color returned to Isla’s cheeks and her breathing deepened. Some of the tension coiled tight within Rafe finally eased.
“Miss Fox is asleep, Mr. Lennox,” the nanny whispered. “You should take her to bed. She needs her rest.”
He realized Diana’s head was now leaning against his shoulder, her arm loosely entwined with his. He smiled. The warmth inside his chest made him feel drowsy with happiness but also a hint of bittersweetness that he could not explain. As though he would lose all this far too soon.
“You’re right, Mrs. Chesterfield. Thank you. I will be back momentarily.”
“You should rest too, Mr. Lennox. I can stay. You’ll do the wee child no good if you are half-dead.”
He turned and caught Diana in his arms, then stood to carry her out of the room. One of the footmen was still awake and walking down the corridor.
“Which room did Rosalind have prepared for Miss Fox?” he asked.
“The Garden Room.”
“Thank you.” Rafe carried his sleeping charge down the corridor, just past his own room. It was one of the prettier rooms, designed for ladies with pale-green walls and lavish flowers printed in chaotic but lovely gold patterns against the green satin wallpaper.
He laid Diana down on the bed, where she roused slightly.
“What’s happening?” Diana wiped her eyes and tried to sit up. “Where is Isla?”
“She is faring much better now.” Rafe’s throat was suddenly tight as he realized her first thoughts had been of his child. “You and I have been ordered by Mrs. Chesterfield to rest. Sleep. We will send word to Foxglove about what has happened and inform them that you will remain here tonight.”
Diana blinked slowly, then lay back in the bed as he pulled the blankets up around her body, tucking her in as though she were a child.
“Were you truly a rakehell?” Diana asked in a whisper. “You seem far too”—she yawned—“lovely... to be so dangerous.”
Her lashes fell closed, and he knew she was asleep.
She thought him lovely? Why did that make his heart swell and make him want to chuckle at the same time?
His chest clenched as he gazed down at her. This firebrand of a woman turned into a helplessly sweet kitten when she felt safe, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like a hero.
Rafe leaned down and lightly kissed her lips, wanting so much more and knowing he couldn’t dare.
