“N-nothing, sir,” she stammered. “I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll leave you alone.”
He didn’t budge as she scuttled toward the door. Her knees trembled so badly that she feared she might collapse in a heap before she reached it. She darted past him, and for a brief, mad moment thought that she might make it.
Until he turned and slammed the heavy door in her face. “Not so fast, my inquisitive chit.”
The impulse to haul at the handle died as it arose. She’d never win a physical battle against Leath. She panted, more with fright than exertion, and twisted to press her back against the door. “Let me out.”
“Not yet,” he said mildly, placing his palms flat on either side of her head. His calmness was more frightening than shouting. It hinted at the tight rein he held over his temper. He was so huge, this was like facing down a planet. An angry planet. Dear heaven, she was in such trouble.
“You’re scaring me,” she said, hoping to appeal to his softer side. He had one; he showed it to his mother. The problem was that
if Dorothy’s story was true—and surely it was—his benevolence didn’t extend to women outside his class.
“You deserve to be scared,” he said grimly.
Without touching her, his body hemmed her against the door. The evocative scent of his skin was rich in her nostrils. Something other than fear started to beat in her blood.
Hating herself, she met his uncompromising expression. “That’s… that’s not kind.”
His eyes glittered. She knew he was no respecter of innocence. Even if he was, what was he to make of her invading his bedroom? Panic tasted rusty on her tongue and she licked dry lips.
His gaze dropped to the betraying movement. The same awareness that had extended between them their first night sizzled through the pause. “I’m not feeling kind.”
She shivered. “Please…” she whispered. “Step back.”
He loomed above her, impervious and unforgiving. “Not until you tell me what you’re doing here.”
“I…” Desperately she sought for some way to explain her presence. Nothing came to mind.
Black brows arched in cynical enquiry. “I what?”
“I can’t think when you stand so close,” she muttered crossly.
Despite the nasty edge to his soft laugh, the sound stroked along her skin. Every hair on her body stood to attention. This heady mixture of desire and alarm sent her into a complete spin.
“I don’t want you to think. I want you to tell me the truth.” He frowned. “Have you come to steal?”
She should be grateful for the accusation. It jolted her out of cowering like a mouse. She straightened and glared at him. “Of course not.”
“Then what are you doing?”
She avoided his eyes. “I thought you were in the library.”
“Catching Lady Mary.” His acerbic response made her wince. His concentration on her burned like flame.
“I saw Wells bring you supper.”
“What a busy little miss you are.” It wasn’t a compliment. “I already know you’re the ghost.”
Her eyes flashed up. “I wanted a book,” she said desperately.
“One you can’t find during the day?” His voice bit as he continued. “With dear Mr. Crane’s advice on your choice.”
If he was another man, she’d think he was jealous. But the great Marquess of Leath wouldn’t care about a maidservant’s flirtations.
He went on before she could protest. “Surely you won’t say that you’re here for something to read.”
She raised her chin. Knowing that she risked disaster, she said the only thing that came to mind. “I wanted to see where you sleep.”