Dashiell’s voice murmured seductively at her ear, echoing the alternative to go on.
‘Then we could see it tomorrow night, or the night after that.’ He squeezed her shoulders and she didn’t miss the reference to ‘we.’ What a wonderful fantasy that would be, to chase comets with Dashiell beside her.
‘We’ made the improbable possible. He had a carriage; he would be protection against travelling alone. In an instant, the enormity of continuing with her quest had been reduced.
Now it was merely up to her, just as it had been last night. Dashiell had given her the most powerful of gifts; the choice to truly decide her future for herself. It wasn’t only the items his offer provided that made it tempting but the man himself. There would be another night with Dashiell, and another and another. What they’d done last night didn’t have to end.
That was the most potent argument of all, the one that swayed her to accept. Almost.
She would have to decline. Well-bred girls didn’t gallivant around England looking for comets. Well-bred girls didn’t do a lot of the things she’d done since last night. She had to draw a line somewhere and this was it.
‘There cannot be another night for me.’ Elisabeth turned in his arms, twining her arms about his neck. ‘I gambled everything on this night and I lost.’ Her family would be aghast at what she’d done tonight and that was just the sneaking out part. They would never survive knowing about Dashiell. Yet she knew she would not trade one minute of this adventure to have it undone.
Dashiell’s eyes darkened. ‘Then don’t go back. Come with me, Elisabeth. Let’s go hunt the comet together.’
The words flowed out of his mouth before he had time to think. Madness had become the watchword since the moment he’d met her and this latest offer proved it. There would be hell to pay with his uncle. Deserting the dinner party paled in comparison to running off with a woman whom all he knew about her was her first name.
No, that wasn’t true. He knew more than her name. Elisabeth was beautiful, intelligent, passionate, an intoxicating mixture of boldness and hesitant reserve. She’d come to him untried. He’d not been unaware of her virginity when he’d taken her. Surprised? Yes. He hadn’t expected it. Virgins didn’t climb out windows in trousers. But he’d recognized the moment when her pleasure had turned to brief pain. They would have to discuss that as well but first, he had to make sure she didn’t slip away entirely. The sun was coming up and she was anxious.
‘I don’t think you understand.’ There was a bittersweet quality to her voice. ‘I can’t go climbing out my bedroom window every night. That’s a ruse that only works once, and maybe not even once. If I’m not back soon, my parents…’
‘Your bedroom window? Your parents?’ Dashiell repeated the phrases carefully but there was no way of avoiding the conclusion. ‘Good God, you’re Graybourne’s daughter.’
Chapter Seven
Dashiell regretted voicing those words immediately. Elisabeth paled. She stepped backwards out of his embrace, a hand clapped across her mouth, realizing she’d said too much. If she’d been dressed, Dashiell was certain she would have bolted from the room. As it was, she began a frantic search for her clothes, her other hand clutching the quilt tightly about her. All she could manage to say was, ‘I have to go.’
Dashiell let her dress. She needed to do something and goodness knew he needed a few moments to think. Her revelation was something of a stunner. Here he’d thought he had escaped meeting the dreaded Four Season Failure. Instead he’d bedded her and she’d been anything but.
The irony was worthy of a Greek Tragedy. His uncle would tell him his fate tonight was most deserving. He’d abandoned a dinner party and deflowered the host’s daughter all in the span of ten hours. Even for him, that was quite an evening.
But Dashiell was hard-pressed to find the tragedy in it. The evening had been the best night he’d had in ages. He wanted her to feel the same. He watched Elisabeth shove a foot into a boot, her hands trembling in their haste.
Dashiell crossed the room and squatted down beside her, taking her hands in his own.
‘Your hands are shaking. Are you that desperate to get away from me?’ He tried for levity.
‘You still haven’t answered my proposition.’
‘You’ve answered your own question. I’m Graybourne’s daughter. I can’t go chasing comets with strangers,’ Elisabeth said simply. He was at eye level with her. He could see the worry in her gaze and the regret, too. ‘Are you going to tell anyone about this?’ she asked cautiously. It was a brave question. She wasn’t begging him for his silence, she was merely inquiring, wanting to know his verdict.