Page 30 of Lady Fiona's Tall, Dark Folly
"I'd like that." She checked the clock on the mantle. "In an hour?"
He agreed and with a knowing glance at Charlton, he followed Diana to the hall.
Fifi took the last remaining bites of bacon and egg, in a hurry to leave quickly and write that note to Esme.
"Finished?" Charlton asked, sounding peevish.
She glanced at him and he scowled at her.
Very well. She shot to her feet. She'd end this right here and now. "I am. Good morning to you, sir—"
He hauled her into his arms and strode toward the hall. "It is not a good morning at all!"
She sought purchase wrapping her arms around his shoulders and prayed no one was in the hall to witness this. "You must put me down!"
"Why?" He took the stairs. "So you can run away?"
His grey eyes bored into hers. She'd not do well to argue with him often. He showed her a wall of integrity that she might never breech—and an anger she might never protect against.
"I am not running, sir! I will not. I showed you that this morning. I apologized. Diana accepted. Collingswood also. You did too! What is your problem?"
He set his jaw and fumed.
Oh, it was the day! Her accident! The pain. This man—and all he awakened within her. Hope, need, want...a yearning for...
This man who held her so tenderly, who treated her so reverently.
He took the stairs with speed and precision. Though she held tightly to him, her arms around his neck, she knew this would be the last time he held her. How could he even think of wishing to hold her from now on? She was a flawed creature.
"Open the door," he told her when they arrived at her rooms.
She twisted the handle, ready to be deposited to the floor...but he shouldered his way in, kicked shut the door and marched straight past her sitting room and into her bedroom.
There, he plunked her atop the gold satin counterpane and went to the windows where he crossed his arms, then whirled to confront her.
"Thank you, you may go," she said as he seemed to search the room, strode to one corner and poured a glass of water from the glass pitcher.
Then he brought her the glass. "Drink it."
She opened her mouth to object, then shrugged and did as he bid her.
He took it and set it to a table, then sat beside her on the edge of the bed. "Tell me about your gambling."
She glared at the ceiling. He would drag on this humiliation?
"Tell me."
She huffed and lifted both hands in exasperation. "I love it. I shouldn't. I'm good at it. Diana taught me much. So did my old nurse."
"Why?"
"Because I was bored."
He knit his brows. "As a child?"
"I needed an activity to take my mind from my worries."
"I see. So your nurse taught you how to play or how to cheat?"
