He hesitated, rubbing his chin before he replied. “I need you to spend the night with me.”

Chapter 5

Miss Kendall’s impossibly long eyelashes fluttered. “Forgive me,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “It sounded as though you said you needed me to spend the night with you.”

“I did, and I do.” It was a bold request, but Reese saw no reason to prevaricate. Figured she’d appreciate his candor. “But before you misconstrue my meaning”—clearly, it was too late for that—“please allow me to explain. I’m not suggesting anything untoward. I simply need you to help me sleep. Like you did the other night.”

“Oh,” she said, her relief obvious—and unintentionally insulting. “There’s no need for me to stay the night with you, Lord Warshire. I’ll simply give you some more valerian root.”

He shook his head firmly. “I’ve already tried it. I used the bag you left behind, and it didn’t work.”

She tilted her head. “But it’s the same mix.”

“I know. And it didn’t make me fall asleep.” On Saturday evening, he’d re-created the exact conditions on the night she’d been at the shop. Steeped the tea in precisely the same way. Reclined in the same old chair. Even tidied the room as she had, prior to drinking four cups of the damned potion. But he hadn’t slept a wink.

The tea hadn’t been effective on the three subsequent nights he’d tried it either. Apparently, the missing ingredient was Miss Kendall.

“Interesting,” she mused. She tapped a finger to her lips, thoughtful. “Why don’t I write out the exact steps and proportions I use and deliver the instructions to you in a letter?”

“You don’t understand,” he said as gently as he could, given the panic swirling in his gut. If she didn’t say yes, he’d be reduced to begging. He was terrifyingly close to it already. “It wasn’t the valerian root that helped me sleep for the first time in weeks. It was you.”

A mixture of understanding, pity, and denial dawned on her face. “It’s not me, Lord Warshire.”

“Call me Reese,” he said. “Please. Every time you use the title I’m reminded of Edmund, my brother.” And how he should still be there. Only, he wasn’t.

“Very well … Reese,” she said tentatively. For some reason, the sound of his name on her lips made his heart gallop. “I’m truly sorry that you’ve been suffering from insomnia,” she said, and the compassion in her voice gave him hope. “But if you think I had anything to do with your good night’s rest, you are mistaken. I have neither healing abilities nor magical powers,” she added with a shrug. “I simply brew a good pot of tea—and anyone can learn how to do that.”