And so she whispered his name, and at last his fingers slipped from her wrist. “Don’t forget the book,” he said, and she fled inside, her heart hammering against her ribs.
∞∞∞
“How was your walk?”
A shriek curdled in Jenny’s throat, and every muscle locked tightly—for just a moment, before her addled brain recognizedLottie’svoice. Of course. Ofcourseit was Lottie. She had just left Mr. Knight in the mews, after all. But in the wake of that kiss she had forgotten everything; including, it seemed, the fact that Lottie and her husband, Lord Clybourne, stayed over at Ambrosia on Saturday evenings to do the weekly accounting.
“Lottie,” she managed. “What are you doing down here?” They’d concluded club business over an hour ago. By this time of night, Lottie was generally ensconced in her rooms with her husband.
Lottie lifted her arm, revealing a bottle of brandy. “I came down for this,” she said. “Simon is really quite fond of it. And then…” She pressed her lips together, as if to hold back a smile. “And then I heard thestrangestsounds at the servants’ entrance.”
An awkward laugh drifted from Jenny’s throat. “You littlespy,” she accused. “The servants’ entrance is nowherenearthe wine cellar.”
“Well, you were later than you usually are,” Lottie said shamelessly. “I can hear you, you know. Coming up the stairs when you return. So when I didn’t—when Ididn’t, I worried.”
Jenny brushed at the fluff of her hair, which had been tugged free of its pins by careless fingers. She had to look a mess—if Lottie’s assessing gaze was anything to judge by. “I’m quite well,” she said.
“I can see that,” Lottie said, a droll lilt to her voice. “And I’m certain Iheardit, too. I must say, I never would have expected Mr. Knight to have it in him. He doesn’t…seem the sort.”
“The sort?”
“Thepassionatesort,” Lottie said wryly. “What book will you bring him?”
Jenny felt her face go hot, blushing for all the world like an innocent young debutante whose modesty had been dealt a mortal offense. “I haven’t decided whether or not I will. I don’t want to encourage him.”
“Don’t you? Just a little?” With a sly sort of smile, Lottie turned—not toward the stairs, but in the direction of the reading room, and Jenny supposed she was meant to follow.
“Ireallyhave no intention of carrying on an affair,” she mumbled, almost guiltily.
Lottie gave a vague wave of her hand. “I trust you to be discreet,” she said.
“But I really,truly—”
A light laugh interrupted her. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
Jenny huffed out a beleaguered breath. “Bit of both, I suppose. Is that bad of me, do you think?”
“Perhaps a little,” Lottie said. “Jenny, you helped me to be honest with myself.Formyself. Why should I not wish the same for you?” She pushed open the door to the reading room, gesturing for Jenny to follow. “Come, let’s pick a suitable volume. I daresay Mr. Knight doesn’t seem the sort to treat a book poorly, but we’ll make a note of it and order a new copy if it does not find its way back to us in good condition. How about this one?” Pulling a volume from the shelves, she passed it to Jenny.
Jenny wrinkled her nose. “I think not. Lottie, I’m not certain this is a good idea.”
“Too tame?” Lottie pulled a face and returned the book back to its proper place. “The best things in life rarely are, you know,” she said.
“What?”
“Good ideas.” Lottie’s lips twitched into a crooked smile. “Anyone would have said it was madness to start a ladies’ club, and only look at us now.” She selected a new book. “Thisone might shock him.”
“I don’t believe Mr. Knight is capable of being shocked. And besides,” Jenny said, “I was meant to give him oneIenjoyed.” Quickly, before she could think better of it, she snatched a volume from its place on the shelf.
Lottie breathed, “Oh. That’s the one where—”
“I know.” She ought to have beenmortified.
A light snicker. “Bold of you.”
“Toobold, do you think?”
“I couldn’t possibly say.” Lottie smothered a giggle in the palm of her hand. “You don’thaveto give it to him,” she said. “But I am curious as to whether or not you will.”
