any dutiful debutante should, but whenever she had a moment to herself, it belonged to Titus, as well.
He’d become the groom she took to assist and accompany on her long, rollicking rides across Rotten Row in Hyde Park. They’d fly over the golden ground of the horse track, their heads low and their hearts racing in time to the hooves of their mounts.
She watched him covertly as they walked the park to cool the animals. How tall and fine he looked astride the bay steed, even among lords more turned out than he.
Titus didn’t require a brilliant suit to stand out. To stand above. He did it merely by existing. When he trotted by, men made way for him, and women turned to look at him.
More frequently to gape and admire.
He wore no top hat, as he was no gentleman, though sometimes he’d set a wool cap against the sun or inclement weather. More often, he’d comb his fingers through locks as rich as Spanish chocolate, and they’d settle in the most perfect sweep back from his forehead.
Nora always overheard a dreamy sigh or two added to hers when he thusly contained a mane tousled by a spirited ride.
Extraordinarily, he seemed to be unaware of his effect.
He never flirted with the women who would try to capture his attentions; indeed, he was invariably aloof whilst managing to remain deferential. It was as though he used his politeness to keep people at a distance whilst still retaining their good opinion.
No small skill, that.
His was an honest, uncomplicated confidence. He’d a smooth way of moving about the world in which he existed, with the ease of someone who was born with a certain sense of self-possession. He never asked for anyone’s respect or permission because he required neither.
He was who he was. He did what he must, and the rest of the time, he did what he liked.
And dared anyone to stop him. Or maybe he just realized no one would dare try.
There was something so refreshing about that. So unsophisticated and natural.
Nora basked in it. She rolled herself up in his atmosphere like it was a warm blanket, and she wished for nothing more than to stay within the shelter of his blindingly handsome smile for the rest of her days.
He escorted her on picnics, often with Pru or the twins in tow, and they’d all have impassioned discussions. She’d been delighted to discover that beneath all his solemnity he was possessed of a dry humor and a sharp wit that ignited with a quick tinder. He’d regale them about what he learned with Dr. Alcott, and she and Felicity would needle him for the gorier details, most of which he was loath to share. She loved how impassioned and animated he became when he spoke of medicine, his face alight with interest.
She loved that, in him, she had found a genuine companion. A true friend.
But most of all, she looked forward to evenings like this one, where, after his work with Dr. Alcott had finished, he’d scale the trellis to her balcony and slip into her bedroom.
Nora would leave a lantern lit and sit in wait, every hair on her body vibrating with anticipation. She’d brush out her curls until they glimmered, and smooth her skin with cream, touching a tiny bit of rose water behind her ears.
And when he would pause in the door like he did now, as if he needed a moment of stillness to take in the sight of her, she positively thrummed with feminine delight.
He didn’t need to tell her she was beautiful; she could see it in the way those golden eyes ignited with a molten flame before he came to her. Before his hands sifted through the waves of her hair, setting every nerve of her body alight with sensation.
Though he’d fiercely protected her virtue, even from himself, he was all wickedness when he touched her like this.
When their lips met, she forgot that her feelings for him were forbidden.
When his hands skimmed across her skin, the coarse fibers of his fingertips snagging on the softness of her, she allowed herself a small sense of wonder. A tiny ember of hope.
She lost herself in the discovery of the peaks and planes of his topography. And she found herself in the reflection of worship with which he touched her.
Each night he came to her unlocked a new depth of passion. At first, it’d been chaste kisses and broad smiles. Then the kisses had become