Without the light of a candle I kept a firm grasp on the railing, keeping my gaze trained on my feet, though I could barely make them out in the permeating darkness. I neared the main floor, unsure of where to go next.
“Juliet?” A light and shadow appeared from around the corner, making me jump.
“Halstead?” I turned, still full of panic and anxious to be on my way.
He adjusted his cane and held up a candle. “What on earth are you doing roaming the castle at this hour?”
A flash of lightning illuminated the passageway momentarily, and a sharp clap of thunder followed.
I fought against the gasp that tried to escape my throat. “The thunder woke me.” My voice trembled, and I hugged myself against the chill of the corridor. “I don’t do well in storms.” I tried to laugh, but it came out shaky and unconvincing. “I was looking for a room without windows . . . where I might wait until the storm abates.”
Halstead took a step toward me, and I could feel him scrutinizing me. “You’re as white as a ghost, Juliet. And your whole body is shaking.”
I bowed my head. “Do you know of a place that fits my description? I would only stay there until the storm has passed.” I peeked up at him.
He gave a curt nod. “Follow me.” He turned to go the opposite direction, holding up his candle to light our path.
“Why do you not have a candle?” He glanced back. “Surely you did not think you could find your way around the castle in such darkness.”
“I left my room in a hurry.” I shivered as more thunder shook the windows in the corridor. “What are you doing up at this time of night?” He was still fully dressed, though his cravat hung loose about his neck.
“I don’t sleep well” was all he offered.
We walked in silence for the next several minutes, until Halstead led me to an out-of-the-way door I’d never before noticed. He held out the candle, shining it on a set of steep stairs that were obviously used by the staff, and motioned for me to go ahead.
I slipped past him in the narrow space, my elbow brushing against his chest. Even for that brief moment of contact, his body’s warmth radiated through me. Thank goodness he couldn’t see the blush that rose to my cheeks.
“Hold on a moment; I’ll be right back.” The light disappeared until he returned, holding a dark lantern. “Here. If you’ll just hold it, this will provide better light.” He handed me the lantern and used the candle to light it. A soft glow soon permeated the stairwell. “This place will be as good as any—there are no windows. The storm should be largely muted.”
A distant rumble seemed to contradict his words, but with one swift motion he pulled the door closed behind us. “Take a seat.” He motioned to the stairs.
I’d been so out of sorts earlier that I hadn’t considered the state of my dress, but now, in the small stairway, lit by the warm lantern light, I became quite self-conscious. I eased myself down onto the fourth stair, carefully tugging at my shift and using my wrap to cover my bare feet.
Halstead set the lantern on the stair next to me and then turned, using the banister to lower himself to sit, half facing me. The slow progress of his gaze assured me I was not the only one aware of my underdressed state.
It took me a moment to voice my protest once I realized his intentions. “Oh, there’s no need for you to stay. I imagine these stairs can’t be comfortable with your . . .” I leaned forward, my arms crossed over my knees.
“With my leg?” he finished for me. “No, it isn’t. But neither are the most luxurious of chairs, and you obviously aren’t fit to be left alone.” The patronizing tone in his voice rankled.
Trying for dignity, I straightened my back. “I will be perfectly well now that I’m away from the storm.” I spoke each word with a great deal of emphasis. “There is no need for you to stay.”
Halstead half groaned, running a hand through his hair and leaving it faintly mussed. It gave him a softer, gentler look. “You misunderstood me. I only meant I didn’t wish to leave you alone when you’re so clearly upset.” He looked away, exhibiting the slightest degree of hesitation. “Perhaps I could stay and keep you company until the storm has passed.”
I slid my hands down my night rail, unable to find them a resting place. A host of emotions rose like a cresting wave, but I didn’t pause to sift through them. “If you wish.”
“I do.” The light of the lantern shone in his dark eyes, softening them, his thick lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. Something about the light reminded me of the first time I’d seen him, sitting in a dark corner of the library, far from the fire. What I’d been able to make out of his handsome features then had astonished me, but now, with so much more history between us, our proximity frightened me. I felt the dizzying pull of attraction I’d been trying so desperately to ignore.
A warm ruggedness slid across my palm, and I looked down to see Halstead’s hand holding my own. “What is it about the storm that unsettles you, Juliet?”
At the moment I was more afraid of the shiver of pleasure that ran along my spine as his thumb stroked my knuckles than I was of the foul weather. The terror of the storm seemed far away as he squeezed my hand gently, his gaze unwavering.
My lungs constricted as if to bar me from sharing something
