He sat looking at me for a moment, then he removed my gypsy wig and ran his fingers lightly through my own hair. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you, my little gypsy lass.” Then he started to undo the buttons on my lacy white blouse. Improbably, I found myself wondering if Queenie had fallen asleep or, heaven forbid, she was attempting to undress one of the other ladies. I didn’t hear any screams, so I had to conclude it was the former. Darcy slid the blouse from my shoulders then drew a finger gently down my front, tracing lightly the curve of my breast. I felt a strong surge of desire that wiped all thoughts of Queenie or anyone else from my mind. I wanted him. I wanted him badly.

His hands had just moved around to the catch of my brassiere when the door opened suddenly, sending a stream of light into the room and making us both look up, blinking.

“I came to undress you, my lady,” Queenie said stiffly, “but I see that the gentleman is already helping you.”

Darcy got to his feet. “Lady Georgiana was distressed by tonight’s tragedy,” he said. “She needed comforting.”

“Comforting, is that what you call it, sir?” She looked at me. “Should I go away again, then?”

Darcy looked down at me and smiled. “No, it’s all right, Queenie. You can take care of your mistress. She’s had a long day.”

He blew me a kiss and he was gone.

“Sorry about that, miss,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt nothing.”

“Mr. O’Mara only escorted me to my room because I was upset,” I said primly.

“Go on,” she said, giving me a nudge. “You were going to have a bit of the old ‘how’s-yer-father,’ weren’t you?”

“Queenie,” I said severely. “That is not how a lady’s maid talks to her employer. You may go. I’ll finish undressing myself.”

“I didn’t mean no harm, miss,” she said.

“I’m tired,” I said. “Just go.”

She closed the door and I sat in the darkness, not moving. All the unsettling events of the day flashed through my mind, followed by one overwhelming fact: Darcy loved me. A smile came over my face until I let the worry surface from the depths of my consciousness. He loved me. I loved him. But we couldn’t ever marry.

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

GORZLEY HALL

DECEMBER 29

Day of the Lovey Chase but beastly weather. I hope nothing will go wrong. I wish Darcy wasn’t taking part in it.

I was awakened by Queenie with a tea tray.

“Morning, my lady,” she said. “Bloody awful day. Fog so thick it reminds me of back home in London. I don’t half wish we was there now.”

I looked out the window, where only the first trees in the orchard were visible and Lovey Tor didn’t exist.