When he didn’t respond, she glanced at him more directly than she had all day. His mouth tilted, the edge of his lips drawing up to form a crooked sort of smile. “I would love one,” he murmured, just low enough for his voice to create a vibration within her. “Thank you.”
Angelica swallowed. Was her heart truly fluttering now and why oh why did she have to look at him when all that did was muddle her head? This was the last reaction she wanted toward a man who’d yelled at her in anger and given her arm a dark bruise.
Dropping her gaze to the teapot, she took a calming breath and filled both cups. “You don’t seem like the milk or sugar sort. Correct?”
“Indeed.” He raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t sure how she knew this without looking at him, but she did, perhaps because of his tone. “An impressive deduction.”
The air shifted around her shoulders – there was that rustling noise once more. Angelica forced herself to stay still, to not look over her shoulder, for she knew she’d find nothing there. So she reached for her cup and cradled it between her hands. It would still be too hot to drink, but the warmth offered comfort.
“I, um…” Lord Sterling cleared his throat. A pause followed. Angelica reluctantly looked up. “I wish to apologize to you for last night.”
It wasn’t the color of his eyes that spoke to her, but the earnest need for understanding and forgiveness they conveyed. “It was wrong of me to thwart your wishes.”
“Nevertheless, I should have been kinder. More gentle.” The edges of his mouth tightened as if with discomfort. “It is not in my nature to hurt women. I’m not that sort of man.”
“I know.” She couldn’t explain how she knew this, but she did. “You were upset, not so much by my presence but, I imagine, by what I reminded you of.”
He closed his eyes. “Yes.” Barely a whisper, but enough to confirm what she’d started suspecting.
“Will you tell me about your wife?”
“Will you tell me what your mother said to you at breakfast this morning?” he countered.
She pressed her lips together and frowned. “I do not wish to marry you.”
There she went again, speaking her mind with no care for who she stampeded in the process. He opened his mouth as if to comment. Instead, he just sat there, staring at her as if she were the strangest creature he’d ever seen.
“In truth, I’ve no desire to marry anyone,” she felt compelled to add. The additional discussions she’d had with her mother after breakfast had, however, forced Angelica to view her situation with increased clarity. And since she didn’t want to be selfish or cause her mother additional worry, she hadn’t much choice.
“But,” she told him carefully, “the time has come for me to forget my own wants and do my duty instead. I’m sure it’s not what you’re hoping to hear but I am a practical woman. I cannot pretend I’ve been swept off my feet unless that is how I actually feel.”
“Good.”
It was her turn to stare at him. “Good?”
“I don’t care for pretense. Honesty and straightforwardness are far more desirable.”
She gave him a slow nod. “Then I should also tell you that I’ll expect my husband to help support my mother. She could lose her London home and I…I just cannot bear to—”
“Angelica.” His voice was warm, but firm. Reassuring. “You mustn’t concern yourself about that. If we marry, I will guarantee your mother’s wellbeing.”
“You would pay for her house?”
“As long as you never betray me, I will do all I can to keep you happy.” He stood, quite suddenly and offered her his hand. “Will you accompany me over there to that window?”
She thought of saying no, then realized she wanted to go with him.
So she placed her hand in his and immediately sucked in a breath as a shock of awareness surged up her arm.
“Come,” he urged, as if nothing untoward had happened.
She stood and together they crossed the floor, though not without her being acutely aware of his warmth, the enticing scent of bergamot that clung to his clothes and just…him.
Angelica’s pulse quickened.
“I believe it is my turn to be honest with you.” Lord Sterling still held her hand yet she felt no compulsion to pull away. Indeed, she liked feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. There was a rightness to it that defied explanation. “Ordinarily, I would refuse to speak of Katrina. In fact, I have not uttered her name since the day she died. But there’s a genuine quality to you that tells me you’ll never be my wife unless I tell you exactly what happened.”
It was curious, Angelica decided. For two people who’d only just met, they understood each other remarkably well. And yet… “You’re mistaken. I will marry you no matter what. For my mother’s sake.”
He tilted his head. “I do not doubt it. But marrying me and actually being my wife are two very separate things.” His eyes burned with hot intensity until she felt herself scorched. He was speaking of intimacies. The sort that forged unbreakable bonds – the kind that demanded trust.
“I see.”
“I hardly think so.” He chuckled, deep in his throat. “But you will. As long as you never betray me.”
The skin at the back of Angelica’s neck prickled. Lord Sterling’s eyes had darkened, hardened as if by an unpleasant memory. Unease slithered through her, and the air around her grew cooler. A strange sense of panic started building inside her – a sudden fear of knowing too much.
But then he spoke, and it was too late for her to change her mind, to press her hand to his mouth and force him into silence, to remain oblivious.
“I loved her.” He said it as if there had been no choice. Angelica’s heart paused to absorb this before continuing its steady rhythm. “She was perfect and we were happy together. Happier than I ever expected to be. Until she died, frozen to death outside and...” The muscles in his throat flexed and strained as if he were struggling to speak.
“I’m so sorry.” Angelica waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she said, “Surely she must have called for help.”
“There was a storm that night. No one would have heard her above the howling of the wind.”
Angelica shuddered. The image Lord Sterling evoked of his wife’s passing was thoroughly disturbing, especially in light of her own recent experiences. She swallowed. “It was the door from last night, wasn’t it? The one that shut her out in the cold?”
His expression was pulled into grim lines, his eyes a dull shade of grey. “Again, I must apologize for my reaction.”
“There’s really no need.”
He blinked, seemed to collect himself. His eyes focused on her with remarkable clarity. The air between them thickened. Her breaths came slower, harder. She parted her lips without even thinking. And then the air between them was gone, and his mouth was pressed against hers with insatiable hunger.
Surprise made her flinch and for a brief second he paused. Yes or no, he seemed to ask.
“What if someone sees?”
“No one will.” His breath whispered softly against her lips. “They’d have to enter the room completely to see this corner. And the door isn’t fully open.”