Claire stumbled back to her room, the echo of her footsteps a stark contrast to the silence of the house. She splashed cold water on her face, the shock of it against her skin doing little to quell the fire in her cheeks. Glancing at her reflection, she saw the deep crimson of her blush, the tangle of her hair, and the faint mark on her lips that told of a moment's passion.
She touched her burning skin, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and emotion.
"He must've had too much to drink," she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "By morning, he'll probably have forgotten all about it."
Sleep was a fickle friend that night. As the clock struck 5 a.m., the housekeeper's quiet bustling in the kitchen was the only sound to break the predawn stillness.
Claire knew she
