One Week As Lovers (Somerhart 3)

“Mrs. Pell said she saw you jump from the cliff. How can that be?”

Thoughts of her scar and the man who’d caused it disintegrated in a blast of alarm. Mrs. Pell. “Ah…yes. She…I made sure…Someone had to see me jump or they’d think I’d only run off.”

“But…” He crossed his legs and the dressing robe parted, revealing his knee and calf. She tried not to stare at the golden hairs on his skin. “How could you have orchestrated an unplanned flight so perfectly?”

“Pardon?” Half of her brain was taking in his small bit of nudity and half of it was screaming that she needed to think.

“Cynthia, does Mrs. Pell know you are here?”

“What?” she gasped. “No! Of course not! How…how could she?”

Lancaster put his foot down and leaned forward to meet her eyes. “This is her home. She lives here.”

“Well, of course she lives here, but she doesn’t go into the attic.”

“The attic?”

“Yes, the attic. Did you think Mrs. Pell had just invited me in and set me up in one of the guest rooms?”

“Well…yes.”

“Don’t be a ninny. I’ve been living up in the attic like a mouse. Speaking of which, it’s late and I’m exhausted.” She started to rise, thinking she could run downstairs and warn Mrs. Pell, but Lancaster was on his feet before she could push off the mattress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His chest was only inches from her face. She could smell his soap, the same faint scent she’d noticed each night when she entered his room.

“I’m going to bed,” she managed to say past the sudden, overwhelming tightness in her chest. She could not think with him looming over her.

“There is no bed in the attic. You’ll stay here.”

“No!” She had to get to Mrs. Pell. The woman would spill the truth and incriminate herself before Lancaster even finished his first question. “I can’t sleep in your bed!”

“Well, I promise not to be in it with you. This house belongs to me, Cynthia, and I’ll not have you living in the attic.”

“Another room then—”

“There are two new maids in residence, plus young Adam. If we are to keep your presence a secret, we must not raise suspicion.”

Cynthia rubbed a hand over her eyes. Was he saying that he’d keep her hidden from her family?

Lancaster touched her cheek, and she jumped as if a spark had drifted from the fireplace and landed on her skin. “We will work out a plan in the morning. But for now, you’ll stay here. I’ll be back in a few moments.”

She jumped to her feet when he turned away. “Where are you going?”

“I must inform Mrs. Pell of the situation.”

“No! Not like this, not in the middle of the night. She’s old. Her heart…”

“If I don’t tell her this instant, she will likely suffer an apoplexy while she is beating me with a broom in the morning.”

“But…I don’t want her to know! She might…tell…” Oh, she couldn’t even finish her ridiculous claim.

Lancaster, just a foot from the door, turned back to her, frowning. He crossed his arms and Cynthia cringed. If he found out the truth he might very well turn Mrs. Pell out. Not for hiding Cynthia, but for lying to his face. No gentleman would support such insubordination.

If Mrs. Pell lost her position, Cynthia would never, ever forgive herself. “I…” she stammered.

Strangely, Lancaster smiled as if he’d just heard an outrageous joke. His brown eyes twinkled as Cyn shook in her stockings. “Really, Cynthia.” He chuckled. “You are nearly as poor a liar as Mrs. Pell. It’s a wonder you two have managed to pull this off without me.”

“Ah…Pardon?”