the turban she always wore. It was a riot of curls that had at one point been pinned but had mostly escaped confines now. He had the urge to touch those soft curls and bury his hands in it while pressing his lips to hers.
He knew he shouldn’t think such thoughts, but it was difficult when she looked as she did now. She would tempt any man, and he struggled to keep his eyes on her face and not to allow them to rest on the lovely dark half-moons of her breasts, visible at the edge of the low bodice.
“I should apologize,” he said. “I should have asked you before I had a gown commissioned.”
“Asked me?”
He reached in his pocket and withdrew the invitation to the Dark Ball. He handed it to her, and she looked at it then shook her head. “I don’t understand. What is this?”
“The prominent Negro citizens of London host a ball every year. I’ve been invited.”
“It is only for Negroes?”
“Primarily. We have our own community—our clubs and societies and entertainments. I’ve just been getting to know the people myself as I haven’t been in London long, though Wapping isn’t far and I knew some men and women already. But it’s an honor to be invited to the ball. It could be good for the store and the coffee room.” He shook his head. “And that hasn’t anything to do with you.”
“Oh, but I understand now. You want me to go so I might tell people about the opening celebration and act as your representative.” Her shoulders seemed to relax as she thought she understood now.
“No, that’s not it at all.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I do want you to attend with me, and I apologize for not asking you before, because I do not want you to go as my clerk. I want you to go as my lady.”
She stared at him, her eyes wide.
He held up a hand in case she wanted to speak. He had mucked this up quite enough, and he was determined to say everything he needed to before she turned him down. “I meant to speak to you about this sooner, but then that shipment of coffee was lost and the price of tobacco fell, and I haven’t had a moment to sleep much less take you aside. I should have asked you to the ball before this, and I will ask you—properly—but I can’t ask you without a few provisions.”
“There is no need for this, Mr. Gaines. Of course, I will attend with you.”
“Call me Thomas in here, please. And I want to make sure you understand you have a choice. I had Alfred create a contract for your position.” He patted his pockets. “I have it here...” He pulled out a sheet of paper, glanced at it, then pulled out another. “Ah, here.” He handed it to her. “It states that if you choose to leave my employment, you will be paid six months of your salary no—"
“‘Matter what the conditions are for departure,’” she read. She gaped at him. “Why would you do this?”
“Because you work for me, and I have never before mixed business and personal matters. But with you I want to.”
Her eyes went soft and she bit her lip. He wanted to see that as a positive sign, a sign she also had an interest beyond business in him. But first he needed to finish explaining. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to return my sentiments. If you don’t, I respect that. And you are free to stay without any further unwanted attention from me. If you feel uncomfortable staying, I think six months’ salary will ensure you have the means to look for another position. So you see, you are under no obligation to agree to go to the Dark Ball with me.”
“I do see that. And I thank you.”
He swallowed, his throat still dry. “Now that the preliminaries are out of the way, Miss Sawyer, would you be so kind as to attend the Dark Ball with me?”
She smiled. “I cannot think of anything I’d rather do, Thomas.”
And then to his surprise, she moved close to him and kissed him on the cheek. It was a sweet kiss, like one might give a brother or elderly uncle. Thomas enjoyed it, but he wanted much more. As she moved back, he caught her wrist lightly in his hand.
She looked down at where his flesh met hers and her breath hitched before she met his gaze.