Page 28 of Desperately Seeking Seduction

The sight of Winston curled up on his bed had been one of those defining moments of self-discovery and ruthless restraint. He had wanted to stay with her in bed. Pull her into his arms and hold her while she slumbered. Yet until she thawed toward him, he wouldn’t dare assume they shared similar yearnings for each other. He would treat her as the valet she insisted upon being to him.

He placed a picnic blanket beside her. “Spread that about.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Stratford moved the easel to one side of the blanket and then sat himself down right in the middle. “You can sit at my feet, Win,” he said, holding back a grin at how much fun he seemed to be having, saying things that clearly set her teeth on edge.

“How very generous of you, my lord,” she ground out, but did sit herself down on the very edge of the material.

Because she was in front of him and offering a splendid view of her rather elegant rump, Stratford had trouble dragging his gaze to the sunrise that had brought them both from the palace so early in the day.

But he succeeded just as the sun peeked over the horizon. He held his breath, as he always did at such moments, and watched the colors of the sky change. Eventually he looked away and saw Winston staring out over the waking valley below them with a wistful look on her face. In the morning light, knowing what he knew now, Stratford was struck by how familiar Winston and this moment seemed to be.

Winston was a stranger to him, and yet the more time they spent together, the more he was sure they had met somewhere before. Long ago. He shook his head because that would mean he’d been a fool twice with her.

Winston suddenly turned. “Can I ask you something that might seem impertinent?”

“Yes, anything at all, Win.”

“Do you trust all the members of your family?”

“That is impertinent, but I’ll answer it anyway.” He sat forward, smiling at the woman. “I trust my brothers, and of course my cousin, Mrs. Amity Crawford, and her husband are good people. Uncle Henry isn’t so bad in small doses.”

She nodded. “That fellow who came to your chambers yesterday. The one I told you was looking for you.”

“What about him?”

“I…I didn’t trust him.”

“Who did you say it was?”

“He did not give his name. He wore black.”

“My brother the duke wears black out of respect for our late father, as does a cousin.”

“If you’ll forgive me for saying this, he had an oily look about him.”

“Ah, that would be Cousin George you met most likely instead. Your instincts were correct about him indeed. A man not to be trusted.”

“He gave me this. I suppose it was to buy my silence about his visit to your room,” she said, revealing a copper coin.

“Well, he’s certainly the tight fist of the family when it comes to trying to buy information.”

Win tucked the coin away. “I was better tipped at the inn.”

“Ha. By me as well, too,” he crowed.

She sighed and drew her knees up tight to her body and looked out over the valley again. “Yes, if you had stayed much longer, you’d have come home with pockets to let. There’s no reason to pay everyone so handsomely.”

“I value good service,” he promised. “Your last employer is a good man.”

“The innkeeper saw you coming,” she warned. “Told us all to be especially nice to you because you tipped so excessively. He has a number of unflattering views of higher society that I’m sure you don’t know about.”

“Is that so?” he rubbed his jaw. The innkeeper had been especially happy to house Cuthbert during his recovery. Promising to send the bill later. Now he was worried about the debt he might incur. Stratford had thought the innkeeper a fine fellow but what if he’d been deceived there, too? “I shall never be as tightfisted as Cousin George but will consider pinching a penny or two next time I visit that particular inn. You’ll have to tell me how he takes it.”

She shook her head. “I won’t be there the next time you stop.”

“Why wouldn’t you go back?”