Page 81 of Return to Satterthwaite Court

“You needn’t suspend your pleasure on my account.”

She took a seat, setting the box aside. “I shall restrain myself. It’s you who commands my attention, not your gift, much as I adore it.” Brushing the chocolate dust from her fingers, she extended a hand to him. “When did you arrive?”

“This morning.” He took her hand in his, holding it gently as he sank down beside her. “I’ve taken rooms at Grillon’s.”

“Will you be staying long? Or—” She broke off. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to think of your leaving yet. It’s only that, this whole last week, I waited and—”

“I couldn’t leave Somersetshire immediately. I was detained for a few days on business too important to delay.”

“What business? Was it about the estate or—” Again she stopped. “It doesn’t matter.” Her eyes shimmered with unexpressed emotion. “I’m just so dreadfully glad you’ve come.”

His thumb moved over the curve of her knuckles. “Did you doubt me?”

“Well…I confess I did. But not because of you. It was because of me. I shouldn’t have given you an ultimatum.”

“I wasn’t aware you had.”

“But I did. When I told you that you must pursue me to London.”

“Ah.”

“No doubt you felt duty bound to come here. After what happened that night at Beasley Park…”

Her words trailed off as he drew her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “I am dutiful.”

Her breath caught. “Charles—”

“I told you what would happen if I pursued you.”

“I remember.”

He lowered her hand from his lips. “I also told you I wouldn’t compromise you.” A frown worked its way across his brow. “The truth is…I’ve already done so nearly half a dozen times.”

She blinked in surprise. “You haven’t!”

“I have,” he assured her. “In Tiverton. At Satterthwaite Court. And again, that night at Beasley Park.”

“Oh, those don’t count. No one observed them.”

He arched a brow. “Arbogast is nobody? His coachman is nobody?”

She made a dismissive sound. “They didn’t know who I was. And as long as no one knows it was me in that carriage or under that oak tree or—”

“In that anteroom?”

Color suffused her cheeks. “Yes, exactly. To compromise someone, the misdeed must take place in front of witnesses. Otherwise, there’s no one to force a gentleman to do the right thing.”

“Excepting himself,” Charles said gravely.

It didn’t matter that no one had observed them. Had he been behaving as a gentleman, he’d have traveled to Beasley Park immediately after parting ways with Kate in Tiverton. He’d have gone straight to Lord Allendale and asked for his daughter’s hand. If not then, then certainly after Charles had kissed Kate in the anteroom.

Redeeming her honor, some would call it.

That Charles had lost his heart to Kate shouldn’t even come into it.

But it did.

It had.