with such adoration it was nearly painful to watch.
Tilly knew it wasn’t anything she’d ever have—she’d always known that—still, she couldn’t prevent the longing in her heart. She swallowed hard against the knot in her throat, trying desperately to ignore the heat swamping her face. How much longer would this night last? She wanted nothing more than to escape to her room and get lost in a book.
Thomas appeared at her side. “Might I escort you to the refreshment table?”
She didn’t particularly want to go, but it gave her an excuse to walk away from her friends and their devoted husbands. Jealousy wasn’t a good look on anyone. “That would be lovely,” she said.
He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow, then led her around the dance floor. He chatted about the musicians and other random topics, but Tilly wasn’t paying much attention to his words.
He served her lemonade and she dutifully thanked him. He was dreadfully dull, but she felt pity for him that he had to endure life with Melanie, though he had picked her.
“Do you ever wonder what our life would have been like?” he asked.
She nearly choked on her drink. “I beg your pardon?”
“If you recall I began courting you before I turned my attention to your sister.”
“I find it best to not think on what could have been.” What else was she to say?
He exhaled loudly, his frustration obvious. “Dance with me?”
“Very well.”
He led her to the floor and held her far too closely. He smelled of too much brandy and his hand on her back tightened with too much familiarity. They hadn’t made it very far into the song when a presence appeared behind her.
“I’m cutting in,” Sullivan said. His tone left no room for argument.
Still Thomas tried. “You can wait until after the song.”
“I don’t want to wait. I want to dance with my wife.”
Thomas made no move to release her, but she stepped away from him and turned to Sullivan. “Actually, I’d prefer to get some fresh air. It is rather warm in here.”
“Excellent choice,” Sullivan said. He took her arm and pulled her tightly to him, then led her away without another word to his brother.
“He’s lonely,” she said.
“I don’t care.”
She wanted to laugh, but held her tongue as they made their way through the crowd.
“You and my sister looked good together on the dance floor.”
“Jealous, Freckles?”
“Of course not.”
“If I wanted Melanie, I could have had her a dozen times by now. But she’s a vapid, shallow, and arrogant creature.”
Tilly’s insides were shaking. “What do you mean you could have had her?”
“She’s made it abundantly clear she’s available to join me in bed, if I so choose. She propositioned Roderick, too, before and after she married Thomas.”
Tilly shuddered. “I don’t understand her.”
“She’s not happy unless someone is telling her she’s beautiful every moment.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course she’s beautiful. Everyone knows that.”
“She has a pretty shell, but it loses its shine once she opens her mouth.”
Warmth spread through Tilly as she glanced sidelong at her husband.
He couldn’t mean that. Everyone agreed Melanie was both beautiful and charming. Everyone adored her, simply everyone.
And yet Sullivan had stated Melanie’s flaws with casual bluntness, as if he’d given the matter thought before now, reached his opinion, and had never bothered to question it again.
They had no sooner stepped out onto the balcony than Sullivan pulled her into the shadows and crowded her body with his own.
“What are you doing?” Her heart pounded so rapidly she was certain she’d be able to see it moving through the fabric of her dress.
His eyes met hers and the intensity in his gaze was new and alluring. “You’re driving me mad tonight, Freckles.” His hand slid across her cheek, cupped her just below the ear. He searched her face, released a curse, and then he crushed his mouth to hers.
Shocked, her lips parted in a gasp and he took the opportunity to sweep his tongue inside, sliding it intoxicatingly against her own. It was foreign and torrid and arousing. She gripped the front of his shirt, wanting to push him away from her, but instead clutching at the fabric and holding him in place.
Heat, unlike any she’d ever known, coursed through her, setting her very blood on fire. Boldly, she slid her tongue against his and was rewarded with a wicked growl. The fingers from his other hand dug into her waist, branding her, claiming her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and