A Wish Upon a Marquess: Sweet Regency Romance (A Maypole in Mayfair Book 2) by Maggie Dallen & Katherine Ann Madison

Author:Maggie Dallen & Katherine Ann Madison [Dallen, Maggie & Madison, Katherine Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Swift Romance Publishing Corp
Published: 2021-05-03T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Ash watched Camilla run away, and he knew.

He just knew.

But then as he stared at the closed door, he promptly forgot what it was that he knew.

“Come, old chap,” one of his tasting experts called out. “We’re nearly through.”

And so, he stood there and only half listened as Sarah said something to him. And then she was gone too.

And he was empty.

Well, his cup was full, but he felt empty. Hollow. She’d left. He’d driven her away. And it was wrong. It all had gone so very wrong. He lost a chunk of time after that. All he knew was that the tasting experts were truly wonderful men and that their compassion in the face of his misery knew no bounds.

Then they left too, and it was just him and the footmen who’d been tasked with cleaning up after the tasting business. He was alone, and he was empty.

This time, he was empty in every sense of the word. He rubbed at his chest as if that might help.

It did not help.

If anything, this empty sensation grew. He had to go apologize. He had to make this right. And so, he followed the tasters out of the room and down the hallway toward the library.

He had a hunch she’d be in the library. His Camilla loved her books and her research. And he had no doubt that if he’d truly hurt her—and he feared mightily that he had—she would go there for comfort.

His head was fuzzy, and the room wobbled and tilted with his every move, but there was nothing for it. He had to go to her.

And then there she was. His beautiful, odd, perfect Camilla. She looked up with wide eyes, her brows arched in surprise. “Ash? What are you doing here? I thought you’d still be—”

“I don’t like you leaving.” He frowned. That wasn’t at all what he’d meant to say.

Her brows drew down. “Pardon?”

He swallowed, the room shifting slightly. “I only meant—” He stopped as he tried to figure out what he’d meant.

What had he meant?

She sat perfectly still in a chair by the fireplace, her hands clasped together neatly in her lap and her expression frozen in a way he despised. It reminded him of the way she’d fawned over Lord Terrence all over again, and what he’d meant to say was forgotten in another wave of jealousy. “I do not like you playing the fool.”

Her expression did not alter, but her body tensed. “And I do not like you inebriated.”

“I’m not—” He stopped. Perhaps he was. How odd.

“You are.” She stood, angling toward the doorway behind him. “Whatever it is you came here to say, I suggest we resume this conversation in the morning.”

His chest tightened, and his heart began to race. She was leaving again, and that would not do. He couldn’t watch her walk away again.

He couldn’t lose her.

Certainly not to an old bore like Lord Terrence who did not understand her full worth, and not to her rooms at this very minute.

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