Free Never Turn Away (Kellington Book Six) by Maureen Driscoll Page B

He had no similar story in his
past.  Nothing to compare it to.  “Which rooms are along this balcony?” he
asked.
    “The next set of French doors opens into my
bedchamber.”
    Now he was assured of getting no sleep for the
duration of his stay.  Her room was next to his?   What the devil was Thompson
about, placing him in the bedchamber next to Evelyn’s?  If he’d been the
watchful butler, he would have put himself in the bloody dungeon. 
    “Is something amiss, Inspector?”
    Just the fact that temptation would be at hand the entire
night.  He tried to collect his wayward thoughts.   “I cannot like that your
bedchamber is so easily accessible.  For others.  I mean.  Intruders.  It would
be altogether too easy to scale that wall, hop onto the balcony and walk into
your room.”
    “Why would anyone scale that wall?  The country
offers little in the way of crime, other than the odd chicken theft or
poaching.”
    If it meant the chance to be with her, he would
scale that wall even if the staff was pouring hot tar from the roof.  But he
couldn’t very well tell her that. “Forgive me, my lady.  Old habits die hard
and I am used to London’s crime.  But I would advise you to cut the ivy from
the wall, which would make it immeasurably harder to climb.  In addition, I
would install locks on these doors.”
    “But I shall have you in the next bedchamber.  Am I
not safe with you in residence?”
    He met her gaze.  “No, my lady.  You are not.”
    Her eyes widened.  He was on the verge of kissing
her, when he forced himself to turn away.  “I do not wish to keep you from your
activities.  And I should try to figure out where your most able staff unpacked
my things.  What time is dinner?”
    “Six of the clock,” she said, sounding a bit
breathless.  “We eat early in the country and I do not dress for dinner.  If
both of those are agreeable to you.”
    “Quite.”  He smiled, then bowed.
    She took the hint and departed.
    Lynwood would have his head ,
mused Joseph.  He would have his head and his bollocks, too, if he knew how
he’d been flirting with the woman he’d been charged with protecting.  When
she’d told him where her bedchamber lay, his first thought hadn’t been for her
safety.  It had been relief that he could visit her that night without being
seen by her staff.
    Remove the ivy, indeed.  He’d scale that wall with
his fingernails if it meant having the chance to be with her at night.  Not
that he would get the chance.  It was obvious she was an innocent.  Her blushes
were only flaming his ardor.  Her innocent flirtation had him harder than
anything a seasoned courtesan could say.  Or do. 
    He wondered if her life was as lonely as his.  At
one point, he’d believed the wealthy did not have real problems, but he’d long since
learned that some things were universal:  the need for acceptance, the longing
for love and the ache of loneliness.
    He wanted to know more about Lady Evelyn.  He would
never have a lifetime in which to make his inquiries.  But he would at least
have dinner.

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
     
     
     
     
    The figures didn’t lie.  The debts had mounted.  The
income had dwindled.  There was no escaping it.  Without Evelyn’s fortune and
land, it would be ruination.  But so far, she’d resisted all efforts at wooing
her.  She seemed determined to go her own way in life, even if she lost her own
fortune by not meeting the deadline.
    How could she be brought to heel?  She wasn’t like
other ladies.  Didn’t respond to flattery.  Had little use for fashion,
considering she kept herself holed up on her estate most of the year.  Didn’t
she realize how ridiculous she was, remaining unwed at her age when any number
of men would have had her given her fortune?  Some would have taken her with
even half the dowry.
    But what use was half the dowry when all of it was
available?
    There was no doubt about it.  The field was