Reese led Sophie to a guest bedchamber that was three times the size of her room at home. Decorated in shades of gold and pale blue, it was fit for a queen. The four-poster bed that held court in the center was far grander than any she’d slept in before; even her bed at Fiona and Gray’s couldn’t compare.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” he said earnestly.

“I’m sure I shall,” she replied, a little breathless. “Where are your quarters?”

“Just down the corridor in my old room,” he said. “I can’t bring myself to move into the master suite.”

Sophie nodded, filing away the information for future use. “You know,” she said softly, “we don’t have to go to the garden tonight. The whole reason I’m here is to try to help you sleep. If you’re spending half the night escorting me around your estate, you’ll miss out on precious hours of rest.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, thoughtful. “Earlier today, I was so exhausted that I couldn’t tie my own damned cravat. My head pounded, my fingers wouldn’t work, and all I wanted was a few hours of sleep.”

“And now?” she probed.

He dragged a hand across his jaw. “I just want to spend time with you, like a normal person.”

She chuckled at that. “You are a normal person.”

For several heartbeats he stared at her, his expression unreadable. At last he said, “Only when I’m with you.”

A shiver, sensuous and sweet, stole over her skin—and though she was halfway across the room from Reese, she felt as though he’d caressed her. With his words.

“How about this?” she said slowly. “We’ll spend no more than an hour in the garden, then I’ll brew some tea for you and see if I can coax you to sleep.”

He nodded. “I’m beginning to think you could coax me to do just about anything,” he said gruffly, making her body tingle again.

Flustered, she set her portmanteau on a bench and tossed her shawl on the bed. “You know, I think a brisk walk will do wonders for both of us. I’ll follow your lead.”

They wound their way through a maze of corridors and back staircases, eventually arriving at a pair of heavy wooden arched doors. “This is the entrance to the ballroom,” he said, leaning a shoulder into one of the doors till it creaked on its iron hinges and slowly swung open.

Sophie ventured into the center of the room, huge, empty and dark, and slowly turned in the center, admiring every detail. The polished parquet floors were covered in intricately shaped shadows from the towering windows along one wall. Moonlight painted the room the color of a pale purple orchid—ethereal and exquisite.