No one could be more steadfast than Thaddeus, yet to depend on him, to rely on his presence was a storm too dangerous to weather. She could truly count on no one but herself. Life had taught her this truth again and again. And yet, it was so tempting to trust, to surrender, to wish.
They had been gone too long already. She knew it; he likely did too. And yet the specter of having to exit his embrace made her cling to him all the more.
Their first kiss had been magical, but this one was even better. It was familiar. Safe and comforting, and at the same time reckless and freeing. This was the kiss of two people who had walked away only to come back for more.
She would never get enough of a kiss as powerful as that.
As long as they took care not to make spectacles of themselves publicly, did they truly need to stop? They could share moments like this privately… if temporarily.
Reality threatened to intrude on the romance of the moment, but Priscilla shoved it away. He missed her. He wanted her. She was always welcome in his arms. The heady sensation was far too redeeming and flattering to turn away.
Worse, she felt the same. The days without him, the excruciating hours between each new letter, now seemed a torture too devious to withstand. She missed him, blast it all. She wanted him and he knew it. She wouldn’t let it go further. She couldn’t allow herself to need him.
And yet, that was exactly how it felt. Out here in the shadows, her lips pressed to his as the wind unraveled her hair and her heart beat against his.
With him, she felt more at home than she ever did in the house she grew up in. Those walls were cold; his arms were warm. Those windows were shuttered; his heart was wide open. Those rooms were still and unchanging. He was passion and movement and color and excitement and adventure.
Soon, she would no longer be of marriageable age. A spinster. Not a has-been, but a never-was. Every season that slipped by, every waltz left undanced, every minute spent in the background was another brick in that wall.
That was the game. The goal. Disreputable lady explorer, and proud of it. A single fare to adventure. It’s what she’d always wanted. What she was so close to having. Yet he made her wish she could leave an open door.
She could not let herself fall in love. No matter how good he felt. No matter how desperately her body longed to join with his. She had already said goodbye to too many people she loved. She would not survive adding another name to the list.
Trembling, she forced herself to break the kiss. She expected him to ask why.
If she told the truth about her inheritance, her confession would automatically break the terms. But Thaddeus had proven himself trustworthy. There was no doubt he could keep a secret. From the first, she’d warned him whatever they had between them was temporary, but she was starting to feel he deserved to know the full reason why.
He did not ask.
Nor did he force her back into his arms, or try to kiss her again.
Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “You should go back while we’re still wise enough to walk away.”
Priscilla was not at all certain much of her willpower remained, but she rose to press her lips to his one last time and then hurried back to the harsh light of reality.
It didn’t help dispel the magic of his kiss.
She could still feel it on her lips, hours later, when the coachman delivered her and her maids back to the townhouse. Tonight, she would go straight to bed and dream about Thaddeus and an alternate world where they could both have everything they wanted—including each other.
“Come hither!” snapped a sharp voice before she made it to the stairs.
Priscilla pivoted toward the front parlor in surprise. Grandmother was always asleep at this hour.
She stepped into the lifeless drawing room, marveling that its shrouded interior seemed much bleaker than the Dark Walk. She hoped no unwelcome surprises awaited within.
“Yes, Grandmother?”
“Where were you?” her grandmother demanded.
In a man’s arms.
On the Dark Walk.
Kissing.
“At Vauxhall,” she said. “With Lady Felicity. I told you earlier.”
“And I told you to stop playing games and find a husband,” Grandmother snapped. “If you have to trap a man to get him, do it.”
