his neck and participate.
By the time the door opened, we were caught in a thoroughly compromising position.
It had only been a matter of moments since the kiss began, but I was still a bit dizzy as he pulled his mouth away, disentangled himself from me, and stood up quickly, turning to face the door. Sir Nigel stood in the doorway. Whoever he had been talking to in the hallway was no longer there. I’d hazard a guess it had been Jerome Curtis.
The major’s shoulders stiffened as he adjusted his tunic, calling attention to the buttons I had managed to undo.
I sat up on the sofa, pulling up the strap of my gown, smoothing out my skirts, and patting down my hair, all while doing my best to affect a thoroughly embarrassed expression. I dropped my gaze, and I found it wasn’t quite necessary to feign mortification. I had been caught robbing a house, true enough, but I had never been caught on a stranger’s sofa with a man’s hand up my skirt.
Though I was averting my eyes from Sir Nigel, I caught a quick glance of his expression, and I thought that our little ruse might have done the trick. He didn’t look angry or even suspicious; instead, a bit of an amused smile hovered on the corners of his mouth.
“I beg your pardon,” he said dryly. “I didn’t know the room was occupied.”
“I’m sorry, Sir Nigel,” Major Ramsey said stiffly. “I’m afraid I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality and acted very badly.”
He stood slightly in front of me, as though shielding me from the brunt of the embarrassment, and I noticed that he didn’t offer excuses. Of course, what excuses could one offer for such behavior? I felt a bit smug at how well we had pulled it off.
“No need to apologize, old boy,” Sir Nigel said with a smile, his eyes flickering to me for just a moment. “Glad to see you’ve mended things with your young lady—and that you’re capable of getting carried away like the rest of us.”
Major Ramsey’s posture grew, if possible, a bit stiffer.
“Elizabeth and I…” His voice trailed off. “I suppose we’d better get back to the lecture.”
He turned and offered me a hand, helping me up from the sofa.
“Of course,” Sir Nigel said. “And don’t worry about me. I’m the soul of discretion. There’s a war on, after all. One might as well enjoy life while one can.”
“Thank you,” I said in a low voice, still refraining from meeting his gaze.
Major Ramsey took me by the arm, and we made a hasty exit from the room.
My heart was pounding as he led me wordlessly down the hallway toward the foyer. I could hear the sound of laughter and conversation from the front part of the house. Apparently, the lecture was over.
“Wait a moment.” The major caught my arm when we were still out of sight of the rest of the guests, and I turned to look up at him. I half expected him to look chagrined after what we’d just been caught doing, but he hadn’t lost any of the composure I was beginning to realize he wore like a second skin. “Your hair is … untidy,” he said.
I reached up and felt that my chignon was indeed lopsided, curls cascading down one side of my neck. That pin I’d bent to pick the desk drawer lock had apparently given way and left me askew. That and the major’s fingers in my hair. For some silly reason, I flushed.
I fished into the other side of my hair and pulled out a pin. Rolling up the loose curls, I pinned them back into place as best I could.
“Better?” I asked the major, for want of a mirror.
He studied me. “May I?” he asked at last, motioning toward my hair.
I nodded.
He reached out to smooth the wave at the front of my face and then tucked another errant curl behind my ear. There was nothing tender in the way he did it, but I still felt the skin of my neck go hot. What on earth was wrong with me?
“Thank you,” I said, looking up at him. Then my flush deepened. “Oh. You … you’ve got lipstick on your mouth.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it across his mouth. “Better?”
“May I?” I asked.
He nodded, and I used my thumb to wipe the remaining smudge from beneath his lower lip. How very strange it was to think that he had been kissing