Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“What in the world?” Laurence murmured.
He looked up from the book he was failing to distract himself with to the door that separated his quarters from Ellen’s.
Candle and firelight danced across the walls and illuminated the threshold between them as if inviting him in.
He turned his ear toward it to listen for the sound he’d sworn he had heard, and when he heard nothing, he lowered his gaze back to the book.
He had no idea what it was about. Ever since Ellen had moved into the adjoining room, the words always blurred together as he attempted to read, as if his thoughts could not be torn away from the woman on the other side of the wall long enough to concentrate on a single sentence.
Still, he tried. Night after night, in an attempt to keep himself from opening that door and going to her.
The silence broke again as unmistakable feminine laughter erupted from the other side of the wall.
Not just from one person, but two. Laurence snapped his book shut, finally abandoning it, and strolled to the door that would lead to Ellen’s room.
He pressed his ear against it, and his heart fluttered as he heard Ellen and Madalene talking in excited whispers.
His heart warmed at the thought of them getting along so well. Madalene had lost one sister, but it seemed that she had gained another in Ellen.
“If you are not going to ask him, I will!” he heard Madalene state with authority.
“Madalene, no!” Ellen whispered, “I do not wish to bother him! Please do not—”
Ellen’s muffled voice became clear as the door Laurence was leaning on suddenly gave way and surged forward. He barely caught the doorway’s edges and righted himself before Madalene was standing toe to toe with him, with her chin held high and her eyes full of challenge.
“Oh, look, Ellen,” Madalene called over her shoulder as she put her hands on her hips. “He isn’t avoiding you. He is eavesdropping!”
Heat crept up Laurence’s neck and to his ears as he frowned at his little sister.
“I was doing no such thing,” he stated firmly.
Madalene raised a single brow, and behind her, Ellen let out a soft giggle.
Laurence rolled his eyes.
“Not on purpose,” he confessed. “I was reading, and I heard a noise. I was concerned, so I came to investigate.”
“Ever the protective guardian,” Madalene said dryly, looking as if she still did not believe him.
Laurence moved to close the door before any more could be said, but then Madalene snatched his hand and pulled him with surprising force into Ellen’s quarters, shutting the door firmly behind them.
“I am glad you are here, brother,” Madalene sighed as she all but dragged him over to the settee where Ellen still sat. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh, Madalene, stop. Please…” Ellen begged, an apology already written in her eyes as she looked at Laurence.
“Nonsense,” Madalene countered, fluttering her hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “You might be afraid to speak to my brother, but I am not.”
Something flinched within Laurence.
Afraid? Was Ellen afraid of him?
“Sit,” Madalene commanded. She shoved at his chest then, sending him off balance enough to go down into the vacant space beside Ellen.
He caught the scent of wine as he landed on the settee, and looked from Madalene to Ellen with skepticism.
“Are you two foxed?” he asked.
“No,” Madalene answered, a bit too quickly.
Laurence’s eye narrowed. Even so, he caught the way Ellen blushed at his side.
“We had a bit of wine earlier,” Ellen confessed. “But it was hours ago, and I promise you that we are simply giggling now from all of the fun we have been having.”
Laurence’s gaze softened as he turned his full attention to her. She looked so lovely there, her blush soft and pink and her eyes bright with mirth.
“It is all right if you are foxed, you know,” he said gently. “Especially in the privacy of our home. I am not upset or angry that you are relaxing here.”
Ellen’s smile was warm as she cast her eyes bashfully down to the ground. Madalene, however, let out a rather ladylike snort.
“Quite right, you are not upset!” she said a bit loudly. “We are grown women after all, and we shall have a drink whenever we like!”
“That is what I said,” he said sternly, turning his narrowed gaze toward his sister.
“That is what we know,” Madalene bit back, then tossed a pillow at him.
He caught the pillow midair and put it on the floor, wondering why suddenly the two women in his life were keen on throwing things at his head.
“What we do not know,” Madalene pushed on, “is why you are ignoring our sweet Ellen.”
At his side, Ellen groaned as she covered her face with her hands.
“You think I have been ignoring you?” he asked, turning to face her fully.
She slowly lowered her hands from her face as she gave a helpless shrug, then looked up at Madalene.
“Allow me to clarify about the wine,” Ellen said, giving Madalene a pleading look. “I stopped hours ago. Madalene has not.”
“And thank goodness for that,” Madalene pointed out, “otherwise you would still be alone in this room wondering why Laurence is not speaking to you.”
That adorable pink blush in Ellen’s cheeks turned crimson then, and as Laurence turned to her with a raised brow, she suddenly seemed to find the armrest of the settee quite fascinating.
“Thank goodness I am here to make everything better,” Madalene said with a dramatic sigh. She then drew in a deep breath, and swept her hands down her dress with a sort of regal finality.
“Now that you two are together,” she said, wagging a finger between the two of them, “I believe I shall retire to my own chamber.”
She dropped down into a crouched position with surprising nimbleness to take Ellen’s face in her hands and smile at her.
“Tomorrow we’ll go dress shopping, yes?” she said excitedly.
Though still crimson in the face, Ellen nodded.
“Too right we will,” Madalene agreed, then kissed the tip of her nose before she shot back up to her full height. She walked in a slightly stumbling fashion to the door, then opened it with a flourish.
“Good night you two!” she sang, wiggling her fingers over her shoulder. Then she shut the door behind her, leaving Laurence and Ellen alone.
“Welcome home,” he murmured wryly, as he stared at the shut door for another moment. He shook his head, unable to hide the small smile Madalene’s hyper character often left him with.
“Hmm,” Ellen hummed, pressing her hand to her still-flushed face. “She is quite…”
“She certainly is,” Laurence agreed. “You two had a good day, I take it?”
“We did,” Ellen replied, casting a quick, unsure glance in his direction.
“I am glad to hear so,” he remarked, shifting in his seat to face her fully. “But might I ask what she meant? About me ignoring you?”
Ellen turned to look away from him, but he caught her chin and gently guided her gaze back to his.
“Ellen?” he asked, searching her eyes for an answer.
She swallowed, but said nothing.
“I want you to be able to talk to me,” he gently urged. “About anything.”
Sadness drifted into her eyes, making his stomach plummet.
“Then why do you stay away?” she asked.
Laurence inhaled a sharp breath. How could he tell her the fantasies he’d been wrought with? That, even though he did not love her, he wanted her body so much that it made him ache from the inside out?
“After what Benedict put you through,” he said carefully, “I…I did not want to risk putting you in an uncomfortable situation.”
“But you are the reason I no longer have to be put through Benedict’s cruel or uncomfortable situations,” she countered.
Laurence could not argue that. Still, that did not give him leave to take advantage of her.
There were certain things—certain emotions that he could not promise.
Emotions and hopes that had died when Annabel had.
The way he’d lost his sister…it had changed him.
Frightened him of what could be lurking inside him.
He had never considered himself a bestial man, but after discovering that so many other men had found the auction alluring, he often feared that it was inside him, too. Some demon lurking in his shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to reveal itself.
“I…” He sighed, wishing that there was a way to say what he wanted to say without sounding so cruel.
“I do not love you,” he finally confessed. “I understand why you would feel that way. Our kiss. The way I took you out of harm. But—”
To his surprise, Ellen sat up and laughed. Laughed!
“I am not in love with you either,” she replied.
Laurence could not tell if he was relieved, dismayed, or perhaps both.
“You are not?” he asked, and Ellen shook her head, looking far more comfortable than just a moment ago.
“Of course not. I barely know you,” she replied earnestly.
“You saved me, and I am eternally grateful for that, but…but I do not love you for it. I am not a character in a book. I do not fall in love with the knight in shining armor simply because he slayed the fictional beast keeping me captive. I am real. I have real understanding, real thoughts and feelings that are entirely my own.”
It was pure relief Laurence felt that time; he was sure of it, and he withdrew his grip from her chin and leaned back into the settee. Feeling much better than before, he chose to move on with his confession.
“The kisses we shared were extraordinary, but I worried that if I continued pursuing them from you, you might feel used, and I do not wish to make you feel that way.”
Ellen’s wide smile softened a little as her blue eyes darkened.
“Our kisses were extraordinary, were they not?” she asked, and Laurence could not help the devilish grin as he nodded.