Lee watched her leave, then focused his attention on the tiny silver gun she had placed in his hand. She was right. He had promised to kill the next man who made her cry. And if he had any sense of decency—of chivalry—he'd put the gun to head and pull the trigger right away. Before he hurt her again.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
Mary awoke the following morning to find herself burrowed into the thick goose down mattresses and the mound of quilts on the big brass bed in Lee's bedroom. The room was dark and Mary fought her rising panic as she quickly reached out and found the lamp and the matches. Her hands shook as she lit the lamp and turned to identify the warmth pressed against her.
Mary breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was Maddy who lay cuddled beside her. Her head ached from the hours she'd cried before she finally fell into an exhausted sleep and her eyes were puffy and swollen, but her memory was intact. Mary knew she hadn't wandered into Lee's dark room by accident or fallen asleep in his bed. But the trouble was that she had no recollection of how she came to be there—until Lee entered the bedroom. His blond hair was damp, and his face was freshly shaven. A thick, white towel was draped over one bare shoulder and a pair of well-fitted black trousers, only partially buttoned, rode low on his slim hips.
"Good morning." He greeted Mary politely, not the least bit surprised to find her in his bed.
"1 see you're still living and breathing," she answered icily.
"Disappointed?" he asked.
"Very."
"Well, I guess there's no point in asking if you're still angry. But you're talking to me and that's always a good sign." He smiled at her as he casually buttoned his pants.
"Signs can be deceiving," she reminded him.
Lee chuckled. "I see the morning isn't your best time of day."
Mary turned toward the window. "How do you know it's morning? The sun's not even up yet."
Lee lifted a gold pocket watch off the bedside table. "I carry a watch," he replied. "And I know how to tell time. It's"—he turned the wick up on the lamp, then opened the watch and looked down at the face—"seven minutes after five." He snapped the lid closed, then placed the watch in his trouser pocket.
Mary groaned.
"And even if I couldn't tell time, I could hear the racket going on downstairs and smell the coffee brewing. We've been invaded. Louisa's downstairs cooking."
Galvanized by the fear of being discovered lying abed while everyone else was downstairs helping with breakfast, Mary flipped back the covers and scrambled to get to her feet. "How did I get in here? I distinctly remember going to bed in the room across the hall."
"Would you believe you sleepwalked? That you followed your desires and came straight to me?" Lee deadpanned.
"No, I would not!"
&nb
sp; "Well, then, the truth is that I brought you in here and put you to bed as soon as I heard Louisa moving around in the kitchen. You were dead to the world."
"Then I didn't… we didn't…" Mary stopped abruptly.
Lee winked at her. "I was tempted." He stared down at her shapely legs exposed to his view as her white nightgown rode up her thighs while Mary struggled out of the bed. "I admit to being partial to your long, lovely legs."
Mary grabbed the hem of her gown and tugged it down as she stood up. "How did you get into my bedroom?" she demanded. "I know I locked the door." Mary stomped around the bedroom searching for the fine linen wrapper that matched her nightgown.
Lee shrugged his shoulders, then grinned. "I unlocked it."
She stopped searching and spun around to face him. "How?"
He lifted her robe from the back of a chair and handed it to her. "By picking the lock."
Mary grabbed the wrap, shoved her arms into the sleeves, and tied the ribbon at the waist in three quick jerky motions. "Why?" Her voice rose.
"Keep it down," he cautioned, glancing at Madeline asleep on the bed. "Please. You'll wake Maddy."
Mary took a deep breath, then nodded slowly.