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into that tempting ear and thought she managed a muffled ‘no’ to deny it. ‘I don’t think I’m unduly vain to suspect I’m the reason you dreamt so vividly,’ he persisted.

      ‘No,’ she protested more distinctly, so he knew he was right.

      Although they had sworn never to kiss or long for each other again on a night of almost love they had shared a decade ago, this unwanted; ill-starred connection between them refused to die.

      ‘Yes, madam, you did,’ he persisted, ‘you very likely cause yourself to dream even more vividly by denying this feeling between us so fervently when you’re awake. So that explains why you dreamt, but not what. Not even the way we don’t want to feel about each other explains why you scream out in your sleep, then look as if all the devils of hell are on your heels the moment you wake.’

       Chapter Seven

      That was it then; the frustrated desire of ten years finally said and in the open. Luke waited for Chloe’s reply, resigned to the fact she mattered to him more than either of them wanted to admit—except he just had.

      ‘I’ve had nightmares night after night since Virginia died,’ she admitted as if living with them was better than feeling something unique for him.

      ‘Why?’

      The story behind her arrival must be even more painful than he’d thought. Luke willed his hands not to fist when he thought of the rogue who got a child on her, then left her to cope alone. Back then he’d told himself it was best not to know her story when he felt so damned guilty she was trying to build a respectable life and he wanted to ruin her more thoroughly than the rake who found her first.

      ‘Do you think you’re the only one to see love as a disaster?’ she demanded, but he knew a diversionary tactic when he heard one.

      ‘I thought you adored your reckless, headlong husband and regretted every minute of your life you must live without him? That’s what you told me when you whistled my dishonourable proposals down the wind.’

      ‘And you believed me?’

      ‘You were very convincing.’

      ‘Of course I was; it was a dishonourable proposal.’

      ‘Surely you didn’t expect me to offer marriage?’ he demanded unwarily.

      She stiffened as if about to jump up and glare at him with her usual armed disapproval. ‘No,’ she admitted with a sigh instead. She must be too comfortable or too much in need of human comfort to push him away, but she sat up in his arms and stared into the fire instead. ‘I learnt not to expect much of anyone the day Verity was born. There was nobody left to care what became of us.’

      ‘Then she was truly a posthumous child?’ he asked gently, wanting to know about the man who left her with child, but feeling he was intruding on girlish dreams that might feel very private even if they’d rapidly turned into nightmares.

      ‘Yes, Verity only had me.’

      The admission was bleak and he bit back his frustration at having to prise information out of her like a miner hewing coal. ‘Could neither family help you?’

      ‘No,’ she denied as if it hurt even now.

      Luke felt she had a storm of emotions behind the calm she was forcing herself to hold as if her life depended on it. They seemed so much nearer the surface now he wanted to take the heavy weight off her shoulders, then put her world right. He wanted to protect her so badly, yet she insisted on shutting him out. This contrary, complicated woman was making him a stranger to himself.

      ‘Did you ask them?’

      ‘Not then,’ she bit out and somehow he managed to stifle a curse that she still wouldn’t let him into her true past or trust him with her real self.

      ‘Had they refused earlier?’

      ‘It was a runaway match,’ she said so blankly he suspected she was telling him a well-rehearsed version of what might be the truth, but didn’t feel like it.

      ‘They might be glad to meet their grandchild now.’

      ‘I’d walk barefoot across Britain or beg in the streets before I let them near her.’

      It sounded as if unforgivable things had been said or done when she was so painfully young, alone and vulnerable. Fury burnt in his gut that anyone could treat a young girl so harshly that she never wanted to see them again. Conscience whispered he’d treated her pretty appallingly himself by offering carte blanche to such a youthful widow with a tiny child to consider.

      Shame joined fury then; it wasn’t Chloe’s fault his wife smashed a young man’s dreams to powder, or that he was too wrapped up in not hurting to risk having any more. The revelation that he truly cared for this woman as he never had for Pamela, even before they married and hurt each other so much, overtook him with the force of a natural disaster. It felt as if the real Luke Winterley had woken from hibernation. He flexed powerful muscles against an almost physical ache and wished he’d go back to sleep.

      ‘I’m not saying you should,’ he managed to say as he gathered up the threads of their not-quite conversation and reminded himself he was rated a very fine whip by the sporting set and ought to be able to do this a lot better.

      ‘I wouldn’t do it if you did,’ she said scornfully.

      ‘And I couldn’t ask you to do something that went so strongly against the grain. We mean too much to each other for that; like it or not.’

      ‘I’m sure you underestimate our will-power, Lord Farenze,’ she said icily, as if not ready to make a similar leap into the dark.

      ‘Maybe I do. I still intend to find out why you were driven to take this job to keep yourself and your daughter out of the poor house.’

      ‘Then how dared you use me as entertainment for an idle moment?’

      Luke felt oddly wounded she thought so little of him, but he couldn’t leave her to lie sleepless or tumble back into night terrors.

      ‘I would not dream of it and we’re talking about you and your daughter, not my many and varied shortcomings.’

      ‘No, we’re not. Please go to bed and leave me to watch by Virginia one last time, my lord. You must sleep if you’re going to be chief mourner at your great-aunt’s funeral. I have had my fill of sleeping for now and really don’t want to experience that nightmare again tonight.’

      Luke opened his mouth to deny he felt the least need to rest, but a huge yawn stopped him. ‘I’m not a nodding infant,’ he insisted brusquely afterwards.

      ‘No, you’re a stubborn man who rode here as fast as coach and horses could go in order to be in time for your great-aunt’s funeral. What good you will be for that if you’re nodding over your duties is beyond me, but I’m only the housekeeper, so who am I to tell you not to be a fool?’

      ‘It never stopped you in the past,’ he muttered crossly.

      ‘Oh, just go to bed, my lord. As a mere woman, I’m not required to put in an appearance until after you return from church tomorrow, so I can sleep in the morning. You owe it to Lady Virginia to be properly awake and aware for her last rites.’

      Luke saw the logic of her words, but couldn’t let go his duty to care for all those who lived under one of his roofs. His housekeeper would be heavy eyed and weary tomorrow if he did as she suggested. The idea of her keeping watch when he should be the one to hold his loved ones safe also made him feel as if he was less of a man, foolish though that might be.

      Still, it seemed as if she preferred waking to sleeping and didn’t that betray how haunted and disturbing her nightmares truly were? He longed to offer her simple comfort and scout her demons, so she might sleep sweetly and wake without the shadows under her remarkable eyes. Folly to find

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