of course.”
“What if you’re wrong and my presence brings you shame?”
“I would not have asked if I didn’t want you there, if I didn’t know of a certainty you’d be welcomed.”
Everything about him was dark: his hair, his eyes, his skin burnished by the sun. And yet looking at him, she felt the light of hope. She nodded. “I would be honored to accompany you.”
Chapter 20
During the nights that followed, when she stepped into the library, he was always there as was her glass of sherry, waiting for her. While they each held a book—a mere prop so they could pretend they’d come to read rather than spend time in the company of the other—the covers were never turned back, the pages never glanced at. Instead, they talked and shared stories and laughed.
She told him about her first pony. He told her about a mangy dog he’d had as a boy. The first time her father took her to the theater. The night he and his brothers had gone to a penny gaff. The naughty books she and Lady Jocelyn had read aloud to each other. The naughty ones he’d read silently to himself.
She could tell him anything and everything. And if they sometimes gazed into each other’s eyes for a little too long, if want, need, and desire threatened to make themselves known, he was adept at breaking the spell by stirring the fire, or pouring more libations, or moving to stand by the fireplace. A couple of times he’d excused himself, claiming his unfinished manuscript was calling to him. But she’d known he hadn’t trusted himself to honor his commitment not to take advantage, which only served to make her trust him all the more. She found herself desperately wishing he would gift her with a kiss, a caress, or a whispered endearment.
She had her fitting, impressed with the excellent work Beth had done. She and Hester went shopping, although she refrained from purchasing everything she wanted. Money was a commodity she no longer took for granted. She intended to hold on to as much of her winnings as possible.
Her frocks arrived on Tuesday, and on Wednesday, Hester spent a good part of the early afternoon assisting Althea in readying herself for spending Christmas Eve with Benedict. And his family. Of course, his family. They would be there. But they weren’t the reason she was looking forward to the evening. He was.
She wanted to tempt him into breaking his blasted rule.
It was one of the reasons she’d bathed using the gardenia-scented French milled soap she’d purchased. The reason her new undergarments were made of satin, silk, and lace. The reason she’d rolled the stockings up her legs and placed her feet in the satin slippers for the first time.
Standing before the mirror in the red velvet gown, she hadn’t realized how unflattering her daily frocks had been, not only because of the frays and mended tatters, but because they no longer hugged her curves as closely as she was hoping Benedict’s hands might when they returned home tonight from his sister’s.
Pressing her fingers to the hollow at her throat, she did wish she had a necklace to wear. Not having the jewelry to break things up, it was quite an open expanse of skin from her chin to the swell of her breasts. While she missed having pearl combs for her hair, she couldn’t fault the fine job Hester had done with the red ribbons Althea had purchased, turning them into little bows that covered the pins holding back the strands of her hair from her face, leaving them to flow in curls down her back.
“Caw, he’s going to fall in love with you tonight, and what a fine Christmas present that would be.”
She wasn’t quite certain how to respond to Hester’s declaration, hoped her increasing feelings for Benedict weren’t written all over her face. Perhaps the he she was referring to wasn’t even Benedict. “I’m certain I have no notion as to what you’re talking about.”
Hester laughed, a light tinkling. “I’m certain you do.”
Althea gave the perfect imitation of a haughty duchess. “A maid does not contradict her lady.”
“Oops. I forgot that rule.”
Althea could see the young woman’s smile reflected in the cheval glass. She hadn’t forgotten anything. “Don’t be cheeky.”
But her tone lacked any sort of admonishment.
A light rap sounded on the door. Benedict had come for her. While Hester went off to answer it, Althea picked up her reticule in which she was carrying the