Chapter Seven #3
‘Yes,’ she groaned in good-humoured reminiscence.
‘It wasn’t just us, though, it was Hayes and Arthur, too.
Your sister and the duke’s girls were too well-mannered to partake.
You had swiped a decanter from a little-used sitting room, as I recall.
’ It had been one of many summer dares Alistair had coaxed them all into.
‘Arthur and Hayes had known when to stop, but you had insisted you could finish it off.’
‘Only because I knew you wouldn’t let me do it by myself.’ Alistair elbowed her. ‘You had the worst case of anything-I-could-do-you-could-do-better, and I wanted to prove you wrong.’
‘We were both incredibly sick.’ She sighed with the memory of it. ‘It was years before I drank anything again.’
‘You were sick first.’ Apparently, Alistair couldn’t resist the goad.
‘By barely two minutes. Then you were right there beside me in the bushes casting up your own accounts.’
‘See? You’re still competing with me.’ Alistair turned his head to look at her, a teasing twinkle in his blue eyes.
He wasn’t so bad when he was like this, when they were like this—not trying to out-argue the other person.
‘You were showing off at the grouse hunt. You were determined to beat me,’ he accused playfully.
She looked away. No good could come from staring into summer-sky-blue eyes after midnight and whiskey. ‘No one takes women seriously unless we shove our prowess in their faces. I am entirely unapologetic for outshooting you. If you don’t like it, you are welcome to do better.’
Somewhere down the hall, the longcase clock struck half past two.
She could feel the whiskey and sleep stealing through her veins.
She wouldn’t be awake much longer. ‘Alistair, you should probably go.’ Though, she did wonder how safe it would be for him to brave the balconies after the whiskey.
Perhaps they could chance the hallway instead?
She hadn’t saved him from the boar only to have him break his neck climbing out of her room.
A soft snore interrupted. ‘Alistair?’ She rolled to her side only to find his smiling mouth slightly open and his chest rising in the gentle rhythm of one fast asleep.
She yawned. Balconies and doors had suddenly become moot points.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to rest just a little while.
She could have him out of her room before Giulia arrived in the morning.
Ha. She’d stayed awake longer. Ismay leaned over him and whispered, ‘I win’, and his arm moved around her, drawing her close and settling her against his shoulder.
He was warm and still carried the lingering scent of his bergamot soap.
It was not entirely unpleasant to be this close to him.
Damn him, even asleep he found a way to get in the last word, but at the moment she was too tired to care.
She took a slow deep breath, letting the scent quiet the racket of her thoughts, letting peace find her as she drifted off to sleep.
Just a short nap. Alistair could wear a person out.
* * *
He’d slept too long. Alistair knew it without opening his eyes.
He could feel sunlight against his eyelids—a bright sunlight that said dawn was long past. He’d not slept in his own bed.
This bed smelled of freshly laundered lavender-scented linen—a woman’s bed.
Which meant he hadn’t slept alone, a point further affirmed by the warm curves pressed to his side.
But who? The last he remembered he’d been talking and drinking with…
Ismay! His eyes flew open, the need for haste coming to him at last. He’d fallen asleep in Ismay’s bed, and he was still there.
They were still there. In bed. Together.
The very last place they should be when they were trying to break an engagement.
‘Ismay, wake up.’ He shook her none too gently in his urgency. ‘We fell asleep, and then we overslept.’ He was out of bed, looking for his boots out of habit before he recalled he’d arrived barefoot.
Ismay was much faster at waking than he was and much faster to galvanise. ‘Hurry up! Giulia will be here any minute. She can’t find you here.’
‘Obviously.’ Alistair grabbed his empty flask from the bed, took a quick glance around for any other signs he’d been here and headed for the door.
‘No!’ The word came out in a step-stopping screech.
‘Someone will see you. Giulia could be in the hall even now, and you’re barefoot!
’ She grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the balcony.
‘You have to go back the way you came.’ She manhandled him outside, shoving and pushing. ‘No one will see you.’
He shot her a hard look. ‘Are you really going to make me climb across the balconies in broad daylight?’ When he’d just woken up?
‘Yes. I’m not the one who fell asleep in a woman’s bedroom.’
‘This is my fault?’
‘You fell asleep first. You started it.’
Alistair grimaced. ‘You finished it. Seems like if you were the last one awake, this is more your fault than mine.’ Why hadn’t she awakened him?
‘Just go. I hear footsteps outside. I’ll see you at breakfast, and remember, stick to the plan.’ Ismay gave him a final push and shut the balcony doors in his face.
Ah yes, the damnable plan. The only protection between them and matrimony. Alistair eyed the balconies. Unless, of course, he broke his neck first.