Page 42 of Venus in Disguise

Disapproval dripped from every word as she glanced from Mr Anson to Narcissa.

Narcissa felt a blush burning her cheeks and dropped her gaze, but it appeared Mr Anson was made of sterner stuff.

“What do you have there?” he asked, ignoring her censure.

“Some nice hot chicken soup. The lady slept right through dinner, and I didn’t like to wake her, but she must eat to keep her strength up.”

“Indeed,” Ash said, moving to take the tray from her. “An excellent point. I will see that she eats every bite.”

For a moment, Mrs Fenchurch hesitated, refusing to relinquish the tray. Narcissa wondered if a tug of war would ensue, but the lady backed down.

“Very good, sir,” she said. “And I’m sure you’ll be certain the lady gets her rest, like the doctor ordered.”

“Indeed, I shall,” Ash replied, smiling at his housekeeper.

“Hmph.” Mrs Fenchurch said. She looked over at Narcissa, saying pointedly, “Good night, my lady,” before making a dignified exit.

The door closed, and Ash carried the tray to the bed. “I believe I am in disgrace,” he said with a bland smile.

“Not for long, I suspect.” Narcissa smiled at him as he set the tray down. “She thinks a great deal of you.”

“Naturally. I’m adorable,” he replied, his expression deadpan, though amusement lurked in his eyes. “It’s my fatal charm.”

“Really?” Narcissa replied, staring at him. “I thought it was your waistcoats.”

He snorted at that and took up the bowl and spoon, scooping up some of the thick soup and lifting it towards her. “Don’t be impertinent. Eat.”

Narcissa accepted the mouthful. “I can feed myself; I’m not an invalid.”

“I know, but if I feed you, it stops you talking, and I feel that’s safest for now.”

He lifted the spoon again and Narcissa accepted it, watching him thoughtfully.

“Is that why you kissed me too, to stop me from talking?”

“Partly,” he admitted, his lips quirking. “But not entirely. I kissed you for the same reason I always kiss you, because I want to. I find it hard to stop thinking about kissing you,” he admitted, his gaze lowering to her mouth.

“But you’re not sure that’s a good enough reason to marry,” she suggested.

Ash sighed and offered her another spoonful. “This is why I’m not ready to talk yet.”

She ate the spoonful, speaking quickly before he could press another on her. “Because you are uncertain you wish to marry me at all,” she guessed, not that it was a surprise. “I don’t blame you for that. But you need only take me to Lady Cordelia Steyning. I’m sure she would give me sanctuary if I asked for it.”

“You misunderstand,” he said, his expression becoming grave. “We shall marry. There is no choice.”

“Of course there is a choice!” she exclaimed, clasping his wrist to stop him from pushing the spoon at her again. “There is always a choice. I ran away from home because I did not wish to be forced into a marriage that was not of my choosing. Do you really think I would have you forced into the same situation?”

Ash sighed and shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

“It is the same.”

He set the spoon down with a clatter. “I told you to meet me in that room, Narcissa, I promised there would be no repercussions, but there were. That’s on me. I asked you to meet me, and told myself it was for your sake, because I wished to help you, when in truth I wished to help myself. I wanted to have you alone, I wanted to seduce you. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the first moment I saw you. I’ve been sick with it, that’s why I was so appallingly rude.”

The admission did not have the effect he perhaps intended, for a smile tugged at Narcissa’s lips, her heart lightening at the idea. “Truly?”

“Well, you needn’t look so damned pleased about it,” he grumbled.

“But I am pleased, for I wanted you too.” She reached out, daring to touch his face. “I wish there were time, I wish everything did not have to be decided at once, so you could get to know me and decide if I was the one for you.”