Caleb forced himself to nod.
"Then I have your word, Captain, as an officer and a gentleman? You'll agree to stay away from Lee until you leave for Spain?"
He couldn't breathe. He needed to escape the room, needed to escape the powerful emotions he hadn't expected to feel. Didn't want to feel.
"You have my word, Lord Kinleigh." He wouldn't make love to her again, wouldn't risk her future any more than he already had.
The older man relaxed. He walked beside Caleb to the door. "Do you still plan to visit your father?"
"Yes, sir. As soon as I leave here." He had planned to spend a couple of days with his father, no more. He didn't want to be away from Lee that long. Now it wouldn't matter.
"Take care of yourself over there, Caleb. And as I said, give my regards to Lord Selhurst."
He simply nodded, unable to manage any more words. Turning away from the marquess, he left the study. He didn't intend to wait till morning to return to London. He couldn't bear to stay in the house a moment more.
He wanted to go to Lee, wanted to say a final farewell, but he had given his word and he would abide by it.
It was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done.
Standing in the shadows outside the study, Lee pressed a hand against her mouth to still her trembling lips. Caleb was leaving. Her father had convinced him to go away without a word of farewell. She had been afraid something like this might result from the summons Caleb had received to join the marquess later in his study.
The thought had unsettled her so much she had slipped out of her room in only her night rail and wrapper. She had crept into the garden and sneaked up to the study window to hear what her father had to say.
Now, as she watched Caleb walk out the study door and disappear, anger poured through her. Her father was forcing Caleb to leave. She was furious with him! She hardly knew him and already he was trying to run her life!
But she had also seen the worry on his face, seen the protective look in his eyes when he spoke to Caleb about her future. He had asked her to come and live with him, told Caleb he planned to give her his name. It was beyond anything she could have imagined.
He was trying to protect her, behaving exactly the way a father who cared for his daughter ought to behave, and as hard as she tried, she could not fault him for it.
In truth, she felt deeply moved.
And she knew he was right.
Caleb was returning to duty. Any offer of marriage he had made had come out of duty, not love. He was leaving her behind and she had to get over him. A tearful good-bye would only make losing him more painful. It was better if she never saw Caleb Tanner again.
She repeated the words in her head. Let him go. Let him go. Let him go. And as she moved along the path toward the door leading back inside the house, she tried to convince herself.
Then a lamp went on in one of the rooms upstairs and she paused, guessing the room must be Caleb's. If she went upstairs and knocked on his door, would he let her in? He might, but he had given his word that he would stay away from her, and Caleb was a man of honor.
There was every chance the door would remain locked against her.
She told herself to keep walking, to ignore the lilac-covered trellis that beckoned her to climb up to the second floor balcony and slip into his bedchamber, as he had once entered her room at Parklands.
She tried to convince herself, but it was no use.
Reaching down, she grasped the hem of her nightgown and blue silk wrapper, dragged them above her knees, and set her bare foot on the first rung of the trellis.
Caleb stripped off his uniform and changed into a comfortable pair of buckskin breeches for the return trip to London. Dragging his satchel from beneath the four-poster bed, he began to stuff in the clothing he had brought with him to Kinleigh Hall. Downstairs, he had sent word to his coachman to ready his carriage and bring it round front. Now that his mind was set, Caleb couldn't wait to leave.
He was desperate to get out of the house, anxious to get away from Kinleigh. Away from Lee.
Just thinking about her made his chest ache. God, he'd been a fool to think he could escape unscathed when half the men in London had fallen in love with her.
But Lee wasn't Vermillion. She didn't pander to a man's ego, didn't play games. She didn't even look the same.
And he had foolishly believed he was immune.
Instead, he had fallen wildly, desperately in love with her, and now he had to leave.
Caleb closed the satchel, snapped the brass latches, and started for the door, anxious to be away. The night was cloudy and a little bit cold, but at least it wasn't raining.
"Caleb?"
The sound of her voice whispered through him, slipped softly over his skin. He turned to see her standing beside the door leading in from the balcony dressed only in her night clothes. He remembered the lilac-covered trellis. It was a long way to the ground. He didn't know whether to be angry or amused. In the end, even knowing he would have to send her away, he felt grateful she had come.
"You shouldn't be here," he said softly, afraid to move closer, afraid he might reach for her, and he couldn't afford to do that.
"You were leaving. I heard you and my father talking in the study. You were going away without a word."
His eyes ran over her face, taking in the wisp of burnished hair against her cheek, the faint trembling of her lips, the look of regret in her eyes. He wondered if his own eyes looked the same. "You weren't supposed to be eavesdropping."
"I can't believe you would go away like this. I thought you cared for me… at least a little."
He cared for her. He loved her. So much it hurt. He cleared his throat. "Your father thought… we both thought it would be better this way."
"Would it?"
He knew he should lie. He looked into her face and saw the hurt there, saw the betrayal she felt. "No. Not for me."
She was in his arms in a heartbeat, bare feet flying across the carpet, her nightclothes sweeping out behind her. He held her. Just held her, his arms tight around her, pressing her into his chest. He inhaled her scent, felt the brush of her silky hair against his cheek. Her breasts pillowed against him. He could remember their weight and the softness, the way they filled his hands. He remembered how good it felt to be inside her and he began to go hard.
Gently, he set her away. "You have to go, Lee. Your father would be furious if he knew you were here."
"I've lived all my life without him. I can manage a little while longer." She reached out and touched him, went up on her toes and kissed him softly on the lips. "I'm going to miss you, Caleb."
He swallowed. "I'm going to miss you, too."
"I don't know what will happen to me. I'm frightened of the future. When I was with you, I was never afraid."
His throat tightened. "I know how brave you are. I know the marquess will take care of you. Already he loves you. He only wants what is best for you. You don't have to be afraid."
"Do you think… if I became the daughter of a marquess, things could be different? Between us, I mean."
Ah, God. He reached out, caught her shoulders. "Don't you know by now this has nothing to do with who you are. I can't marry you, Lee. I'm a soldier. It's what I do—what I am. I can't give you the life you want, the life you deserve." He reached out and cupped her cheek, ran his thumb along her jaw. "The war is far from over. I don't even know if I'll be alive when it's finished. I want you to be happy. You deserve it more than anyone I know."
She leaned her face into his palm and a painful longing tore through him. He was in love with her. God, it hurt to leave.
"I want you, Caleb. Make love to me one last time."
His hand fell away. He stepped back from her, wanting her, unsure how much control he had. "I can't, Lee. I gave your father my word."