She exhaled. “A little.”
“Then we rest.”
“No, I can keep going. Let’s reach that kiosk. I want to eat something.”
“Stubborn.”
She looked at him askance, her lips curving seductively. “Where is the hard taskmaster who would demand I keep going when my strength was faltering?”
He huffed a small laugh. “Today is your resting day. Enjoy it. The hard taskmaster returns tomorrow.”
This time, her gaze held pure wickedness. “Do you promise? I rather like you hard…and masterful.”
Good God. She was going to make him go hard indeed in the middle of the damn park.
“Stop looking at me like that, you minx, or you’ll find the outing cut short.”
Her smile reflected triumph. She liked to tease him. Make him burn at inappropriate times. Keep him simmering with desire and then revel in the explosion when his passion erupted in private.
They reached a vendor selling roasted chestnuts, baked apples, and sweet pastries. Wang bought them both a treat. He handed her a paper cone filled with warm chestnuts, watching as she peeled one delicately, then popped it into her mouth.
A voice—crisp and unmistakably English—-interrupted her sigh of pleasure.
“Lady Hartfield?”
Esther turned, mid-bite, blinking in surprise as three elegantly dressed women approached. The one in front, a tall, stately blonde in a dark green walking dress, studied Esther with a look of pleasant shock.
“My goodness, it is you,” she said, her gaze flicking briefly to Wang before dismissing him with the effortless ease one dismissed a servant. “What a delightful surprise! We did not know you were in New York!”
Esther swallowed, dabbing her lips with her napkin. “Lady Caroline. Yes, I arrived some months ago.”
The other two women—poised and impeccably dressed—smiled at Esther, studying her with avid eyes. They were probably American, eager to further their acquaintance with an aristocratic lady. This country may eschew monarchy and nobility, but they certainly were awestruck by them.
“And you are walking! I’m so happy to see you have recovered after your unfortunate accident.” Without missing a beat, Lady Caroline continued, “Please allow me to introduce my companions, Mrs. Morgan and Mrs. Livingston.”
Esther inclined her head graciously. “How do you do, Mrs. Morgan, Mrs. Livingston.”
The women returned the greeting warmly. None of them had so much as acknowledged him, but that wasn’t surprising. Esther, however, wasn’t about to let that stand. She gestured toward him. “May I introduce my dear friend, Dr. Wang? He was instrumental in my recovery.”
The moment stretched.
Lady Caroline hesitated—barely a flicker—but Wang, used to such pauses, remained composed. He inclined his head politely.
“How…fortunate,” Lady Caroline said finally, her lips pressing into something that was meant to be a smile. “Dr. Wang.”
The other two murmured similar greetings, their voices cool, their gazes already shifting back to Esther, as though Wang was an unfortunate incident in an otherwise delightful encounter.
Esther held their gaze, unimpressed, before shifting the conversation. “And what brings you to New York, Lady Caroline?”
“Oh, the usual—business, travel. My husband has investments here.” She glanced between them, curiosity flickering in her gaze. Then, as though making a sudden decision, she retrieved an ivory-embossed card from her reticule.
“We are hosting a ball two weeks from Saturday. A rather exclusive affair,” she added, as if to remind Esther of her own status. “Only la crème de la crème of New York society will be attending. You must come.”
Her tone made it clear—the invitation was meant for Esther alone.
Esther took the card, turning it between her fingers. She glanced at Wang, then back at Lady Caroline, her lips curling slightly.
“How kind of you,” she said smoothly. “I shall attend.”
