Bewitched by His Kiss (May Day Mischief) by Barbara Monajem Page B

less unnerved. She dressed in a warm gown and sturdy boots and made a systematic search of the wood, starting where she thought they must have lain and radiating outward. Hours later, she had covered half the wood and found nothing but the occasional patch of moss, and very little open space to lie down and indulge in passionate lovemaking.
    She tramped grimly back to the Priory, wondering if she’d imagined the mossy glade or failed to notice a likely clearing. Maybe she hadn’t searched far enough. Perhaps, whilst in the heat of passion, one didn’t notice such inconveniences as pebbles and twigs digging into one’s back.
    Perhaps she was making excuses, but she still couldn’t allow herself to believe.
    She arrived home to find the vicar’s wife and daughter taking tea with Peony and Aunt Edna. A pang of remorse struck her at abandoning Peony, because she’d promised to support her at the social occasions her shy cousin so disliked. After indulging in tedious speculation about Lord Elderwood and coy questions about when Lucasta would finally marry Sir Alexis, they left at last.
    Then the squire’s family came to dinner. Alexis caused a furor by asking to spend the night in the haunted room, at which David laughed so hard she thought he might asphyxiate himself.
    Her heart leaped watching him laugh. When had she fallen in love with him? She wrenched her gaze away.
    What was the use of loving him when they could never agree? And besides that, he hadn’t said a word to her and showed no sign of wanting to. Did disgust override love, just like that?
    * * *
    Alexis duly retired to the haunted room. David didn’t fear for him; Alexis was made of sterner stuff than most men. Not only that, Peony loved him, so the ghosts and bogies might take that into consideration. Or might not.He didn’t particularly care.
    That morning, he’d watched as Lucasta paced in the knot garden, no doubt discussing him with Alexis. It didn’t seem to have done any good. She hadn’t spoken to him or even looked at him today.
    He didn’t blame her. He’d tried to force her to become something she wasn’t, and then he’d been brutally unkind, but he wasn’t as unfeeling as he’d appeared. An unmarried gentlewoman couldn’t help but view a pregnancy with horror.
    Slowly, he packed his belongings. He would invent an excuse and leave early in the morning. That was rude, but he didn’t care. For Lucasta’s sake as much as his own, he should make himself scarce.
    He would have Alexis keep an eye on her. Oh, hell—she would go to Alexis for help regardless. It irked him unbearably that, even if carrying his child, she would turn to Alexis instead. He couldn’t force her to marry him, but he could rightfully insist on supporting her and the child, if it came down to that. But for now, he should just...go away. As she’d asked him to do.
    He buckled his valise. Outside, the wind had risen to a rattle and a howl. That might be due to magic and might not, but doubtless Alexis had more excitement than he’d bargained for upstairs. David put on his boots and a long coat, and went outdoors for a walk.
    * * *
    After a few miserably wakeful hours, Lucasta donned a wrapper over her nightdress and put on her slippers. She stomped on what was left of her pride, tiptoed down the dark corridor to David’s bedchamber and knocked. And knocked again, but got no response. She rapped harder. Still nothing.
    To hell with propriety. She opened the door.
    He wasn’t there. Even if she hadn’t already sensed the room’s emptiness, the moonlight shining in the window made it perfectly clear. No banyan and slippers by the bed, no nightshirt lying ready. His brushes and comb no longer graced the dressing table. She glanced about and spied his valise by the door, buckled shut, ready to go.
    Was he leaving now ?
    Aghast, she ran down the front stairs, but the house was utterly silent, as it should be at this hour, and the door bolted as usual. She lit a