Chapter 29

WILLIAM SPENT THE LAST hour in bed, gazing up at his ceiling and replaying every moment of his stroll around the garden with Mab. Benedict was evidently doing the same, as nothing but the odd, dreamy sigh came from his side of the room.

William, being in such a melancholic way, had not anticipated the meeting to go well. In fact, he had practically begged Benedict not to ask him to chaperone this evening as the boy had excitedly penned his letter, but he was glad that Benedict had mithered him into going.

His stroll with Mab was the highlight of his time here – Oh, who was he kidding? It had been the highlight of his life to be in the intimate company of Mab!

She had quickly pulled him from his dour mood, not to mention that she had practically declared that she was more than capable of sharing in the affairs of his estate. He had done his best to be as transparent as he could about just how dire the situation was, and she didn’t seem to baulk at him.

Benedict and Wilfred had gushed the entire journey home of how William had caught Mab as she’d fallen. The way her body fit so perfectly in his arms, the heat that spread through his entirety – he thought his heart had been about to burst! He really did feel like he could have been the hero from any one of Benedict’s romance novels in that very moment.

William couldn’t believe that he had been afraid that she might not live up to the fantasy he’d created of her over the years. The real Mab was exponentially more perfect than any version his mind could have created. Of course she was beautiful. Anyone with eyes could see that. But she was so much more than a pretty face.

She might be a lady, able to charm any person she came across, but she had an irresistible wild streak, was adventurous, brave, could swear like a docker and had William dreaming of just selling up and adventuring around the world with her. She was determined, for regardless of being twice her size, he had no doubt she would have tried all night to drag his unconscious body back to the manor. She was kind and nurturing, despite her slightly aggressive demeanour, for how else could she have comforted a soul as delicate as Tilly in a matter of hours. He knew from meeting her as a child that her wit was incomparable, and his body itched to hear that dry humour again.

William pulled the pillow he’d been clutching closer to his body, trying his best not to imagine it was Mab lying in his arms, comforting him after the news that his brother had been plotting his demise.

He tried desperately not to picture her slender fingers running through his curls as her soft voice whispered in his ear that he was worth more than a way to pay off a gambling debt. He would tell her how much he loved her and how he worshiped the ground she walked on as he pulled her closer—

A knock at the door pulled William to his senses, and he quickly manoeuvred pillow-Mab over his crotch to cover the evidence of what he’d been thinking.

“I don’t think I can possibly take any more excitement for one day,” Benedict breathed before he, in contradiction to his statement, jolted to a sitting position and excitedly called, “Come in!”

Wilfred poked his head from behind the door, a disbelieving look on his face. “Honestly, fellas, this is becoming a full-time job, relaying messages between you and your women!” With a grin that practically reached both ears, Wilfred made his way to William’s bed, took a seat and said, “I have something for you.”

William held out his hand and tried his best not to run his finger over the perfect loopy writing that bore his name upon the letter. He knew it had to be from Mab, for who else could write such perfectly feminine letters that somehow still had the sharp flicks of uncompromising authority.

Dear William,

I would like to continue to get to know you. Would you care to have supper with me in my room?

Always,

Mab

Blood thrummed loud enough in William’s ears to almost, but not quite, drown out the excited squeal from Benedict’s side of the room.

IT TOOK AN HOUR FOR Benedict to pick an outfit for William, making him change no less than five times. Each looked indistinguishable from the last to William’s uncultured eye, but it wasn’t until the seventh outfit that Benedict let out a satisfied sigh.

William combed his hair in the mirror with his fingers as Benedict selected a perfume. The narrow glass bottle was hidden behind an integrated silver casing, hammered into a lattice of filigree, the numbers 4711 embossed onto a plaque. William reckoned the bottle had to have cost a small fortune.

“My brother brought this back for me from his last trip to Germany before he ... Well, anyway, he said it reminded him of an Italian morning. I’ve never been abroad, so I’ll have to assume this is what Italy smells like as the sun rises.”

“Thank you,” William said, quelling the urge to pull the lad into an embrace. He’d shown William more kindness in a handful of nights than, aside from his faithful servants, he’d ever been afforded in his entire life.

Before William knew it, he was pulling up in front of Gaol Manor. The ride was over in a matter of minutes, and William hadn’t formed more than a “Good evening, Mab” in his mind, let alone had time to practise a declaration of love.

Entirely too quickly, he was standing outside of Mab’s room, the guard knocking on the door, each rap drowned by the beating of his heart threatening to burst from his chest. The moment the door swung open, everything faded into nothing as he took in the sight of Mab.

She wore her hair loose, her flaming locks billowing over her shoulders and down her back. Her dressing gown was a periwinkle blue, golden flowers embroidered on the cuff and neckline. It was secured over her chest with three ornate gold buttons, and it split at her navel, flowing outwards and trailing behind her. The split revealed a sinfully translucent nightdress underneath that made his mouth go dry.

Mab crooked a finger and gestured him inside, before pointing in the direction of the armchairs by the fire. William made it to his allocated seat without allowing Mab to see the front of him, the evidence of his desire pressing so tightly to his britches he was surprised a button hadn’t pinged off.

He didn’t know who the Greek goddess of seduction was, but if she were here in this room right now, surely Mab would outshine her. And when Mab settled on the seat, her nightdress rode up her leg, exposing her nearly translucent skin on her shapely calf. William was sure he could see the outline of a webbing of veins, and he wanted nothing more than to trace his tongue up the length of her leg until he reached —

William shuffled uncomfortably on his seat, determined to do the gentlemanly thing and protect Mab’s modesty by looking anywhere but at her exposed skin. His erection was so intense that he placed an arm on his leg in the hope of hiding it from Mab. He took a steadying breath and attempted to form some sort of sentence as he realised he’d not even said “Good evening, Mab” yet. He hoped she didn’t expect riveting conversation, for he doubted there was enough blood left in his brain to form a coherent sentence.

“Would you care for some wine?” Mab asked, her voice like honey.

William managed a nod.

Mab slid a glass towards him, already filled with the burgundy liquid.

As he reached out to accept, he made the mistake of looking up just as the dressing gown, which he could have sworn had been buttoned up just moments ago, slip from her shoulder, revealing the dip of her collarbone, the swell of her breast and – dear God – a peaked nipple.

William snapped his head away, looking anywhere but at Mab. If he caught one more glimpse of her, he truly did not believe he was beyond falling to his knees and begging for her to spread her legs so that he could get just a taste of her.