Page 107 of Once More, My Darling Rogue
“I suppose I’m not categorically opposed to it any longer, but it would have to be a true love match, based on trust.” She studied him for a moment. “Why did you tell me I was your servant?”
Slamming his eyes closed, he sighed.
“Because I was always calling you boy and asking you to fetch things for me? Because I never failed to give you a cut direct whenever our paths crossed?”
He opened his eyes. “I was being petty.”
“I apologize for the way I treated you before. It was wrong of me.”
He’d never expected an apology from her, especially as he owed her one. “I’m sorry as well. I should have taken you home straightaway.”
“You should have, yes. But if you had, I never would have had this.” She circled her hand over the bed. “I can’t regret it exactly, but I wish the circumstances had been different. And I do appreciate your efforts today.”
It took everything within him not to curse. She was building the walls again. Not that he blamed her. She was Lady Ophelia Lyttleton and he was the owner of a gentlemen’s club.
“Perhaps in the future, we’ll be friends,” she said. She rolled out of the bed.
He couldn’t be angry that she’d used him. He’d offered. He got out of the bed, snatched up his trousers, and drew them on. Then he assisted her with her clothing.
“This isn’t nearly as much fun as taking them off,” he said.
She laughed, the sweet sound that he loved. “I never thought to be comfortable with all this. I thank you for that.”
“For God’s sake, stop thanking me.”
Nodding, she drew on her gloves. “How are things going at the club?”
“I’m going to close it down for a couple of weeks, modernize it. By the way, I decided to take your advice. I’m going to open it to women.”
Her green eyes widened until he was drowning in them. She smiled brightly. “Marvelous. I might have to get a membership.”
“You shall always have a membership there, with my compliments.”
“Well, then, I shall definitely stop by sometime.”
“I look forward to it.” But he hated the increasing formality between them. “I meant what I said that night at Lovingdon’s. I fell in love with you.”
“No, you said you fell in love with the woman in your residence. We both know she wasn’t me.”
“I think you’re wrong there.”
“I don’t think so.” Edging past him, she headed for the door.
“Phee?”
Stopping, she turned, peered over at him, one blond eyebrow finely arched. “Yes?”
“I also meant what I said about if you should find yourself with child. Or if you are ever in need of anything, I’m here for you.”
“I shall keep that in mind. Good-bye, Drake.”
Then, once again, she walked out of his life. And he, being the fool he was, let her go.
Phee stared out the carriage window, fighting not to cry because Drake had not tried to stop her from walking away. It seemed of late she spent a good deal of time staring out windows and warding off tears.
In a manner of speaking, her loss of memory had been a blessing, had allowed her to experience something quite remarkable, even if deception had been involved. If she were to be honest with herself, she might even admit that she deserved it a little bit, a very tiny little bit.
Dammit. She had deserved it, all of it. Her treatment of Drake had been obnoxious. If their situations had been reversed, if he’d been the one without a memory, she’d have done the same thing. Only she’d have made him a stable boy shoveling manure.
