Page 23 of Brazen Rogue
Chilsten raised a knowing brow, catching his eye. Bellamy averted his gaze to his daughter. "You may run along and find her and tell her of the mushrooms. I'm sure she'll be very excited for you."
"You seemed to know where Miss Hall was precisely. Are you sure your day was uneventful?" Chilsten asked after his daughter had left.
Bellamy ignored his friend's words and instead stood and rang the bell for a servant. "Tea?" he asked them, determined not to be questioned over matters he did not know how to answer.
ChapterThirteen
Reign tossed and turned in her lumpy, uncomfortable bed for as long as she could stand before she had enough. She threw back the blankets and searched the end of her bed for her robe before leaving her room.
She would fetch a book to read and then try to sleep for a second time. Tonight a storm had blown in from the west, but after the hot days the Lake District had been having, the air was moist and muggy. Making sleep at the top of the house uncomfortable and all but impossible.
How she missed her cottage and the small comforts she had there, and what she wouldn't do to return to that simple life.
Pushing down the melancholy thoughts, she slipped down the main staircase, not wanting any of the servants to catch her up at this hour.
Only a few sconces burned in the foyer, but enough to see, not to mention the lightning and resulting thunder lit up the house as if a million candles were alight all at once.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs, and not hearing anyone about and not seeing any light under Lord Lupton-Gage's library door, she pushed it opened and entered.
The room was dark, and she went back into the foyer and lit her candle using a sconce before going back inside.
The scent of leather and the marquess filled her senses and made her long for things she ought not.
But after the kiss this afternoon, how could she not want to kiss him again, have his arms wrapped around her body, pulling her close, making her feel such delicious emotions?
He was addictive, and she feared that the more time she spent with him and his sweet daughter, the less appealing America became.
Not to mention she had received her first wage today from Mrs. Watkins, and the meager funds she obtained would make saving for her voyage almost triple in time.
For several minutes she studied the hundreds of books. So many to choose from in a multitude of subject matters. The choice was almost as confusing as the lord of the manor, who also tended to scramble her mind.
"Miss Hall?" a deep, masculine voice said from the door.
She started at his words, already knowing who she would find when she turned. The sight of his lordship did not disappoint. The marquess wore breeches, but no shoes, and his shirt was ruffled and not tucked into his pants. He looked as though she had pulled him from sleep, and the vision of him lying atop his bed made her warmer still.
"Lord Lupton-Gage, I could not sleep. I thought to read a book," she explained.
He entered the room, moving over to the window before wrenching it open. "The rooms have kept the heat in today, unfortunately. If you are to be in here, with a window open, it shall be much more comfortable."
She joined him at the window, the breeze going some way in cooling her down. "Mmm," she said. "How lovely that feels."
He sat on the ledge, looking out over the grounds. "I must apologize for this afternoon, Miss Hall. I should not have kissed you."
Reign did not like that he thought kissing her was a bad thing. A mistake. Well, of course it was, but there was little else to be done about it when they both desired the other.
And she was so tired of denying herself and her feelings. She could not keep being near him and remaining cold and aloof. She had never been that character, and with their shared history, it was impossible to continue.
"Bellamy," she said, tipping up his face to make him look at her. His eyes widened, but he did not try to free himself of her hold. If anything, he leaned into her touch, and that gave her the strength of conviction.
"Yes," he murmured, his voice gravelly and making her stomach clench deliciously.
She shook her head, wondering how she would say what she so desperately wanted to. "I cannot continue the way we are. To remain aloof and distant from you is impossible. You and I have a history that was stolen from us. I understand you need to put your daughter first, but I've come to a choice," she said, rallying herself to remain true to her feelings.
"And what is your choice?" he asked her, the concern, the trepidation in his blue eyes clear to see.
"I'm a woman of seven and twenty, a governess soon to set sail for America. Being here with you will be the last time I see you. I know we shall never cross paths after my time here comes to an end, and I do not want a few stolen kisses to be all that is between us," she admitted, praying he did not think less of her for being so candid.
He pulled her down to sit on the windowsill with him. "What do you want, Reign?" he asked, holding her hands, his fingers intertwining with hers.
