Page 44 of An Affair at Stonecliffe

She had spent the day wondering if he had kissed her because he thought she was beneath him, not a lady with whom he must follow a strict code of conduct, but someone of a lower class whom he could bed without consequences.

However sincere he had seemed in his apology for his earlier beliefs about her, there was a bedrock of generations of aristocratic privilege in him. The last thing she should do was look as if she were trying to arouse his interest. So, with an inner sigh, she removed the lovely gown and put on one of her usual dresses.

When she went downstairs, she found that they were eating at the small table in the anteroom to the dining room. There was no chandelier here, and the candelabra on the sideboard and table cast a warm glow without chasing away the soft shadows around the edges, creating a soft, intimate atmosphere. The fact that they were alone together enhanced the feeling.

Noelle sat at Carlisle’s right hand, so close she could have reached out and touched his arm. She could see every line of his face, the curve of his lips, the arch of his brow. She couldn’t stop thinking about their kiss last night. Even Carlisle appeared on edge, shifting in his seat and glancing now and then at the butler standing ready to serve their dishes. She wondered if he, too, was remembering that moment in the library. She wanted to talk to him; she wanted to ask why he had kissed her, what he thought of her, but she hadn’t the courage to do so.

After the meal, they moved to the drawing room for the evening, as they customarily did at Stonecliffe. The difference was that here there was no one besides themselves—no Lady Lockwood or Petunia to distract them, no Adeline or Annabeth to carry the conversation. Noelle took a seat, choosing a chair instead of the sofa, and Carlisle stationed himself beside the fireplace, his elbow resting on the mantel. They had exhausted their supply of commonplace niceties during the meal, and now a heavy silence fell upon them.

Noelle clasped her hands together in her lap, desperately searching for some topic. Carlisle cleared his throat. He toyed with a figurine on the mantel, then set it down and paced a few feet away and came back. “Noelle...”

She looked up at him, and he began to flounder. “I wanted to say, that is, I want you to know that...um, what happened in the library was... I should not have...that is, to say...”

Noelle could no longer contain herself, and she jumped to her feet. “Why did you kiss me last night?”

He stared at her, a flush rising in his cheeks. “I, ah, it was unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” Noelle echoed. That was how he termed their kiss? He regretted kissing her. Her own cheeks began to heat. “I am sorry that I kissed your cheek. It was impulsive and—brazen of me. I did not mean to—to importune you.”

“No.” He looked shocked. “I didn’t mean you were in any way at fault.”

“I fear I seemed exactly who you thought I was. That I was the sort of woman who gave her kisses freely.”

“No. Good Gad, Noelle.” Frowning, he moved forward, his hand reaching out, then dropping to his side. “I didn’t think that at all.”

“You didn’t kiss me because you thought I was loose? Common? Fair game?”

“I did not,” he said indignantly. “And no one could ever find you common.”

“Would you have kissed a true lady in the same situation? Would you have kissed Annabeth like that?”

“I certainly would not,” he retorted. “I have no desire to kiss Annabeth, but it has nothing to do with her virtue or her station in life. I don’t go about kissing women just because I think they’d let me. Noelle, look at me.” He tilted her chin up, gazing intently into her face. “I kissed you because I’m cursedly attracted to you. Because I think about you and dream about you. I did it because I couldn’t keep myself from kissing you.”

“Really?” Her mouth curled up as warmth bloomed in her chest.

“Yes, really. Whenever I’m with you, whenever I see you, I have the damnedest time keeping my hands off you. And trust me, it has nothing to do with your morals. In fact, your morals are bloody inconvenient. When you smile at me like that...” He let out a soft groan and bent to kiss her.

Noelle went up on her toes, meeting his lips. All thought left her head; she was only sensation, carried away by the sound and smell and taste of him. His kiss deepened, his arms tightening around her.

His lips left hers to trail down her neck, soft as a feather against the tender skin. Her name was a broken whisper from his mouth. Noelle shivered, desire lighting her every nerve. She was surrounded by him, and it was a welcome, wonderful feeling to let go, to give herself up to that strength, that warmth. He slid his hands down her body, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts, caressing her waist and curving over her hips. She could hear his breath, harsh in his throat, could feel the pulse of his flesh against her.

“We shouldn’t,” he murmured, but his lips continued to travel down her throat and onto the hard line of her collarbone.

A tremor ran through Noelle, desire swarming to life inside her. She wanted to feel his bare skin against hers; her breasts ached to know his touch. There was a soft, low moan, and Noelle realized that it came from her lips. Carlisle’s mouth returned to hers, his kiss deep and yearning, and he pressed her hips into him.

Abruptly he pulled back, a soft oath escaping him. “We cannot. Sweet heaven, I’ve gone mad.” He swung away, shoving a hand through his hair. He moved to the fireplace, gripping the mantel so hard his knuckles whitened. “I’m sorry...forgive me.”

Noelle, too, stepped back, running a distracted hand over her hair. She started to speak, but her voice came out barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, trying for a firm, detached calm. “Of course. You are right.”

“I am a cad to treat you so.” He turned back, and Noelle looked away, afraid of what her face might reveal. “I have compounded my wrongs to you. I have acted in a way... I promise I will not do so again. I’ve given you no reason to believe that, I know, and I cannot blame you if you distrust me. But I swear, I...”

“Stop. Carlisle. I believe you. I have no desire to blame you—I am at fault as much as you. But you’re right. We must not...”

“Exactly.” His voice was steeped in relief. “I will be more careful. I won’t—it was a momentary lapse in judgment.”

“Yes.” She glanced at him and quickly away. “If you will please excuse me, I, um...”

“Yes, of course.”