"No respect for the dead." His words came out in silent whispers, his teeth clenched.
A small smile tugged on her lips. "Respect is earned in life, my lord. When a man fails to earn respect in life, it cannot suddenly be bestowed on him simply becau...
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Once he was certain Lady Atkins was simply asleep rather than dead, Noah straightened, a thin frown creasing his face as he considered her. He couldn't leave her like this, he thought. For all he knew, Lady Atkins could be ill, and abandoning her when he wasn't certain of the status of her health would be beyond cruel. The least he could do was light a fire before leaving.
Sighing, he turned toward the window, seeing then that the heavens had given way to a heavy downpour, adding to the freezing temperature of the room. He needed to find some wood, but where? The last time he checked the fireplace, it had been empty. He was nearly certain Lady Atkins had kept it empty on purpose, perhaps because she knew lighting a fire would alert people of her presence in his house. He wondered in that moment for how long she had had to hide here, forced to endure unpleasant temperatures, like a common prisoner.
Turning from the window, he found the oil lamp on the table and lighted it, before carrying it down the stairs to the drawing room in search of some wood. Finding none, he scoured the lower part of the building until he was certain there was no wood in sight.
Shoving the front door open, he stepped into the heavy downpour and crossed the muddy lawn to the carriage that awaited him on the street.
He raised his hand as his footman made to jump down the side and open the door. "You must go now to my house and only return once you have found some wood," he gave the command in a hurry. He would wait until his footman returned with some wood, then he would light a fire, ensure she is safe, and return to his home. He would see about her wellbeing the next morning.
He waited impatiently until the footman nodded his understanding before turning and hurrying back into the building.
Lady Atkins's figure laid motionless on the bed as he approached with the lamp, the light illuminating her sleeping form. It was then Noah saw her nightdress, the sheer muslin fabric accentuating her body and leaving very little to his imagination. Her full mass of red hair fell to her shoulders, framing her face that was creased slightly by fear. Tiny freckles dotted her nose, filtering to her cheeks.
Still, there was something lovely about her; something enthralling, nearly ethereal that saw him standing there, held bound by the sight of her.
Shaking his head to ward off the thought, he placed the lamp on the side table and hurriedly pulled the covers over her. It was not his place to stare at his cousin's widow, nor was it his place to desire her the way he did in that moment. If he had known she was indecent when he first walked into the room, he would not have turned on the lamp.
But Noah hadn't known of Lady Atkins's barely clad state. The darkness and his rage had simply blinded him.
And angry he had been! The woman before him brought out rage in him he didn't even know he had. His rage had pushed him to insult a widow, and Lady Atkins, in all her fierceness, had been sure to punish him for his behavior.
Raising his hand to his face, Noah rubbed his cheek. He still felt the sting from her slap. And perhaps he deserved it? If what she said about her marriage to Oliver held any truth in it, Noah thought he deserved to be slapped for his cruelty.
He crossed the room and settled on the settee by the fireplace, thinking of Lady Atkins's words:
"You know nothing of the months of loneliness, the shame, the torment..."
Noah didn't put it past Oliver to be unfaithful to his wife—he knew their marriage had been one devoid of love. But it was the emotions in Lady Atkins's voice as she spoke, the pain, the anguish, the brokenness...
They were emotions he recognized; emotions he had witnessed many times in his mother, who had also been forced to live with a cheating husband. His father's infidelity had brought about a bastard, and being the animal that his father had been before his death, he had subjected his bastard to a terribly hard life, denying his existence.
Noah had inherited his father's fortune upon his death, and once he had the means, he had gone in search of his brother, Race Belington, and had given him a part of his inheritance—a decision that displeased his mother to this day.
There was also the possibility Lady Atkins was lying. Perhaps she was playing the victim to gain Noah's sympathy, because she knew she was at his mercy. Perhaps she sought to manipulate him.
Shaking his head, he shrugged off his damp coat and placed it over the armrest—Lady Atkins could not possibly have faked those emotions he saw tonight.
His gaze drifted to Lady Atkins once more, and while the sheets kept her form buried, the mental picture of her in that nightdress assaulted him.
He closed his eyes, shoving her image to the back of his mind. He couldn't think of her—he mentally scolded himself. It wasn't proper.
*
"Lord Camden?" An unfamiliar voice pulled Noah out of his sleep induced unconsciousness. "Your lordship?"
"Hm?" He forced his eyelids, raising his head from the hard surface beneath it.
A loud his tore from his lips as pain coursed through his neck. Gritting his teeth, he clutched his neck.
"My lord!" A woman. She cried, frantic as small hands cupped his face tenderly. She leaned down over him, her face coming into view as her soft gaze locked with his.
Forgetting his pain, Noah stared into her eyes, mesmerized. The anger and guardedness was gone, and for the first time, as he stared into her eyes, he thought they were beautiful. Perhaps both eyes had two separate colors, yet they were the same, with the green having blue flecks, and the blue having green flecks.
His gaze drifted down, where her lips stood partly open, her warm breath brushing his face. He stared at them, and in that moment, he wickedly thought of tasting them.
"Are you alright?" she asked, pulling away as a small frown claimed her face.
He glanced around at the unfamiliar room. "What happened?"
"You slept on the chair in my bedchamber," she said, and in that moment, he remembered; he had been waiting for his footman's return with some wood for the fire, when he fell asleep on her settee.
But his footman was not the only thing Noah remembered about that evening. He also remembered Lady Atkins, asleep on that bed, a vision of perfection.
He stared at her, noting then that the seductive nightdress was replaced with a rather ugly black day dress. Her hair, rather than fall to a heavenly mess around her shoulders, was confined by several pins.
"It was not my intention," he said, clearing his throat. "I must have fallen asleep after sending my footman for some wood for your fireplace. It was freezing last evening. I feared for your wellbeing," he explained, unwilling to have her think the worst of him.
She nodded, stepping forward. Surprising him, she leaned down and touched his neck. "You must have assumed an uncomfortable position, hence the pain in your neck." She massaged it softly, working her fingers down to his shoulder in a rather soothing manner.
Closing his eyes, he sighed in satisfaction.
"Do you feel better?" she asked, leaning back. Ignoring his disappointment as she put some distance between their bodies, he nodded and rose to his feet.
"Thank you, my lady."
She shrugged. "I made breakfast." Her announcement surprised him. "If it is your wish, you're welcome to join me downstairs."
Without pausing for his response, she turned and made her way to the door, and he trailed her movement until she disappeared.
