Page 55 of Single Desire
The door clicked shut. It was Alec, his voice low and husky. He’d come inside without her being aware of it.
Maura looked up at him. “Your grace, I am not quite sure what to say.” Her tone was scarcely audible.
“Do you dislike it?”
She shook her head.
“What, then?”
For the second time that day, tears pushed to the surface. Alas, these were not happy tears.
“You are…overcome?”
“Do not mock me, Scotsman.” She fought a deep, abiding shame. She might as well tell him what she was about. But she was afraid he’d send her back to Ireland, and she would never find the Circle of Light. “I—I feel like a thief.”
“An odd word to use, Irish.”
“Why is it odd?” Her tone was very low. “You’ve made no bones about your feelings. You think I conspired to wed you for your money. For”—she waved a hand—“all of this.”
Curling his knuckles beneath her chin, Alec guided her eyes to his.
“I am not a miser, Irish. I will not act like one, nor is there a need for you to think I will. There is certainly no need for you to act like one. You may purchase whatever you wish. I will see that you have pin money. If you need more, there is money locked in the far right drawer of the desk in my study. The key is inside the vase directly behind my desk. Or you may come to me. Now, may we agree that we will not have this conversation again?”
Intense blue eyes searched hers before Maura gave a slight nod.
“Excellent. Now, to the business at hand.” With a devilish half smile he glanced at the nightgown. “I must confess, I found this gown exceptionally…provocative.”
Maura found it exceptionally…revealing. She gulped. “Oh, my. It’s—It’s—” She would burn in Hell for the way she’d deceived Alec. And if she did not burn in Hell for that, she would burn in Hell for daring to don a nightgown such as this!
“Yes. I can see where it might compel a loss of words.” He gave her a gentle push toward the screen. “Put it on.”
Her jaw fell open. “Wait. You expect me to wear—”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Indeed.”
“Now?”
“The mockingbird has returned, I see. Surely you must have noticed it’s night, Irish.”
Must he sound so damnably rational? She struggled to keep the desperation from her tone. “Where is the robe?”
“I don’t believe there was one. In any case, I wouldn’t have bought it. That would defeat the purpose of buying a nightgown such as this.”
She could present no argument to that statement, and realized she had little choice. Dammit, he was enjoying this all too well. She snatched it up from the bed and stepped behind the screen.
From the other side, Alec heard several muttered, rather inflammatory curses. At a rather virulent one, he sighed. “Do you need help with your laces?”
“I haven’t even gotten to the bloody laces, not with all of these damned buttons to undo!”
“How fortunate I am here, then.” He rounded the screen and stepped up behind her.
Maura didn’t delude herself. When Alec had prompted her upstairs, she certainly hadn’t expected her maid to be waiting.
“The constraints of women’s clothing are bothersome, at best. Sheer torture, at the worst. May I suggest there’s no need for you to fetter yourself so when you are in your bedchamber—or mine, for that matter.” His hands were busy throughout his speech. “There, it’s done.”
