fatherâs secretary. Innocence is the highest gift one gives to the man with whom she will spend her life.
Even if the marriage is unhappily arranged and she despises him with everything in her, a husband, and no other, is still entitled to that gift.
Regardless of the fact Noelle planned never to wed, she still had the virginity rule buried in her mind. She was fairly certain the layers of clothing women had been forced to wear throughout the ages had been specifically designed by some outraged father as an added barrier to male seduction. A man had to be determined to find his way clear down to the skin.
Even now, without boned corsets and hoops to tightly bind a body, a man still had to be resolute in his seduction.
Dragging a hand over a tabletop, she wandered through the dining room and back into the hallway. The staff had gone to bed, and the house was silent.
There had been a time in the not-too-distant past when she and her sister Margaret raced down these halls, their boots tapping on polished marble and wood as their mother called for the nanny to get them under control. Now, the house was hers alone, and she ached with loneliness.
Her shoulders slumped. No Margaret, no Eva, and now no Brenna. Brennaâs parents had shuffled her out of London to visit an ailing cousin and she wouldnât be back for several days. Any decisions Noelle made about Mister Blackwell from this moment forward would be hers alone.
Noelle gathered her skirts and headed through the back of the house and out into the cool night air in the garden. Though she knew wandering alone in the garden at night wasnât her best idea, she couldnât stand the confinement of the house for another moment.
Mister Blackwell would certainly find her discomfiture amusing. Heâd likely puff up his chest, knowing she couldnât get him out of her mind. Lord help her if he ever discovered how he made her body ache in inappropriate places.
She had wandered halfway down the short path when a feeling came over her that something was gravely amiss. She stopped dead and listened for sounds out of place.
With only the flickering light of a distant streetlamp to illuminate the moonless evening, she darted a glance up and down the path, her heart pulsing wildly in her chest.
There was nothing to give her pause other than the odd notion she was being watched. She started to dismiss the thought as foolishness, until she heard a footstep crunch on a stick near a patch of lilac bushes.
Panic sent cold dread through her bones.
Realizing her servants and the residents on either side of the town house were probably tucked in their beds, leaving her without rescue should a thief be prowling the night, she lifted her skirts and walked briskly back toward the house.
She had managed to get within feet of the kitchen door when she slammed sideways into an immovable object. A large, obviously male object. Arms came up to catch her as she bounced backward and lost her footing. She let out a shriek and flailed her slippered foot. A grunt followed contact with some part of her attackerâs leg.
âLet me go,â she cried, and opened her mouth to scream. The scream became a muffled squeal when the man clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. She raised her eyes to get a good look at what was probably the last face sheâd ever see.
She slumped with relief.
âHush,â Gavin whispered. His eyes danced with amusement. âWe wouldnât want to awaken the neighbors.â
Noelleâs eyes widened, outrage replacing fear. She jerked free and slapped him several times on his hands and arms before settling back to stew.
âHow dare you lurk around my garden in the middle of the night? You gave me a fright,â she snapped before casting a glance toward the windows and quieting her voice. If she was discovered trysting with him, no matter how innocent the meeting, sheâd be ruined. âI demand you leave at once, lest
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