Captive of Sin

Gideon strolled across to the table. He lifted the plate of sandwiches and extended it toward her. “You’re hungry after your journey.”

She stood, ignoring a yelp of discomfort from her abused body. This at least she knew how to do. Something familiar in the sea of unfamiliarity. “Shall I pour your tea?”

“Thank you.” Gideon put down the plate as Pollett entered the room. Charis concentrated on fiddling with the tea things, her color rising as she recalled Pollett’s quick assumption that she was Sir Gideon’s mistress.

“Is all in order, sir?”

“We need a fire,” Gideon said, taking a seat near the table.

As Pollett left, Charis passed Gideon his tea and a plate with two sandwiches arranged upon it. Her left arm made the simple duty more trouble than usual, but she managed. Such a small achievement, but enough to revive her spirit.

He smiled almost naturally. “So this is what it’s like to be under a lady’s dominion.”

She frowned with puzzlement. “Surely you’ve taken tea with a female before.”

“Never alone. Never in my own house.” He swallowed a mouthful of tea and lifted his chunky sandwich for a healthy bite. Whatever his illness of yesterday, it seemed to have passed.

“What about your mother?” She took the chair opposite. As she sipped from her cup, she stifled a sigh of pleasure. It was a small luxury, yet one she’d missed.

His face became expressionless. “My mother died at my birth. My father didn’t remarry, having already sired two sons and seeing no need to submit himself again to the yoke of matrimony.”

“I’m sorry about your mother.” Had his mother bought the pretty china and chosen the delicate, faded fabrics that upholstered the furniture? So much death marred his life. Was this what darkened his soul? Sadness thickened her throat, and the tea abruptly lost its flavor. “No feminine influence at all in the house?”

His lips quirked. “No ladies at any rate.”

“Oh.”

She couldn’t control a blush although her heart beat faster at the idea of him with a woman. He wouldn’t sit across the table, drinking tea. He’d snatch her up in his arms and kiss her and…She tamped down the wanton images before she made more of a fool of herself than she had already. Her face felt like it was on fire.

The smile became a smirk. “Indeed.”

She dragged her mind kicking and screaming back to reality and looked around the room. Anything to avoid his knowing glance. Now she thought about it, the house shrieked its lack of chatelaine. Penrhyn badly needed a woman to take charge and restore its former glory.

Perhaps the absence of early feminine influence explained Sir Gideon’s awkwardness with her. Although he didn’t strike her as an innately shy man. Again, she wondered if he disliked her. The possibility made her belly tighten with denial. She dearly wanted Sir Gideon’s approval.

Surely he must like her just a little. His manner at times such as this was almost intimate. Certainly more intimate than she could remember encountering in other gentlemen. Every time he turned that warm regard on her, she felt like a sunflower opening to the sun. She knew the reaction was improper, dizzying, perilous, but she couldn’t help it.

He broke the tense silence and spoke with a polite formality that chilled the already icy air. “I hope you’ll treat the house as your own, Miss Watson. Go where you please. Read anything in the library. There’s a pianoforte in the morning room—or there used to be. I wouldn’t advise you to stray too far from the grounds in case you’re seen. Although I suspect your injuries put anything too energetic out of reach at present.”

“Thank you,” Charis said dully. Stupid to long for Sir Gideon’s arms to close around her. She forced herself to remember they were chance-met strangers. This silly wayward lilt of the heart was purely one-sided.

All this emotional turmoil on top of the beating and the long days of travel conspired to sap her last ounce of energy. With a tired gesture, she set her cup in its saucer. Every second intensified her multitude of aches. Her head thickened with weariness.

He rose from his chair and moved across to a sideboard, where he splashed some brandy into a glass. “The house and estate will demand my attention for the next few days. Penrhyn’s been too long without a master.” She recognized his tone as a deliberate attempt to put her at a distance.

“You don’t have to entertain me or neglect your duties on my behalf.” Her voice was flat with disappointment. But what had she expected? That he’d devote his attention to her? Much as she wanted his company as a buffer against the unfamiliarity.

Charis, don’t pretend that’s the reason.

She forced an even tone. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“Don’t be absurd.” He emptied the glass in a single swallow and set it down with a crack. “I did what anyone would have.”

“You’re too modest, Sir Gideon.”

“Don’t make me out to be more than I am, Miss Watson.” His eyes glittered like obsidian as they focused on her. The tension that extended between them like a thin golden wire tightened to breaking point. “I’m as miserable a sinner as ever walked this earth. Pray remember that.”

The invisible wire linking them snapped. He turned and stalked from the room, leaving her to stare after him in hopeless, hurt bewilderment. The sun turned away from her, and she shivered in the sudden, biting cold.