the market, “none of them have been held in your hand. This way, every time I use it, I can imagine it’s your fingers running through my hair.”
Jess’s steps faltered, and she blinked to stem a sudden rush of tears. “Noel.”
She did not know how she’d go on after this, after him. It seemed that the future they couldn’t share would be a slow, gray one. In that future, she would only remember what it was like to have such a man beside her.
“The change from the comb,” she said, her throat tight. “I’d like a ha’penny, if he gave you one.”
Noel pulled out the small coin and tucked it into her hand. “In need of funds?”
“You have something of me,” she said, slipping the coin into her hamper. “And now I have a little piece of you to carry wherever I go. Neither of us will forget.”
Soft wonder filled his face. He tugged her toward one of the canopied booths, positioning his body so that his broad back hid her from any passersby.
Then, cupping her jaw gently with both hands, he tilted her mouth up before bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and silken, gentle with heat beneath it. She savored the taste of him, coffee and clove, and she’d never known anything as delicious or fleeting.
Chapter 16
Hours later, bathed and dressed in one of Lady Catherton’s walking gowns, Jess headed toward Lord Trask’s. It was the Bazaar’s final gathering, which consisted of a luncheon before the company disbanded to return to their normal lives.
She would sink back into the obscurity of her position as a paid companion, overseas, far away from her family. As the hired help, no one would ask her for her opinion about financial matters. The most exciting part of her day would be sitting quietly in some parlor as Lady Catherton paid calls.
She would never see Noel again. Even if she wasn’t going to the Continent, soon enough, he’d learn the truth about her, and would rightly never want to speak to her or see her. At the least, she had the ha’penny, now tucked into her reticule so she could have him with her whenever she desired.
Something else she could not ignore: this was her last opportunity to save her family’s business. Hopefully, her final gambit would work.
The butler greeted her with a bow as she crossed the threshold. He directed her toward the dining room, and as she moved toward it, her heart beat faster and faster.
In the hallway outside the dining room, she heard his voice, sonorous and husky. She paused to catch her breath as memories of this morning mingled with heated recollections of last night. Tell me where you want me to touch you. You want me to make you come. And he had. Over and over until she could barely remember why she couldn’t have that with him always.
She was Jessica McGale, a farmer’s daughter, and a paid companion. She fought for every coin. He was a duke, wealthy and powerful beyond reason.
“Who’s out there, lurking in the corridor?” someone in the dining room demanded.
“Lurking implies nefarious intent.” Affixing a placid smile, Jess entered the chamber. “I am not nefarious.”
“But you are welcome,” Lord Trask said as he stood next to the dining table. He had grown a good deal warmer to her over the past few days. Perhaps his negative beliefs about women in the realm of finance had altered. “Please, my lady, help yourself to whatever you like.”
Despite the many people in the room, her gaze went straight to Noel. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he faced the door, wearing an expression of anticipation, as though he had been waiting for someone.
The smile he gave her was a flaming arrow right into her chest. She couldn’t stop her answering smile, making his grow even more brilliant.
She joined the queue serving themselves a luncheon, which had been laid out on the sideboard. Two people ahead of her was Lady Farris, whose tranquil smile thankfully did not hint at what she’d come across last night. That was some relief. Some, but not much.
Noel took his place right behind her in the queue. He didn’t reach for her, or whisper scandalous suggestions, or indeed do anything that someone might see. No one detected that Jess and the duke had known each other’s touch and taste. But she knew. And he did, too.
“A good morning, Lady Whitfield?” he asked in a tone