“Tea and conversation.”
He looked appalled. “Is there never to be any hope for more?”
“There’s to be no taking more without explicit permission. I will kiss you when and if I choose to. You’ll have to earn each one… if you can.”
“Then come to my hotel tomorrow afternoon.” He pressed her fingers to his chest. “Everyone else will be in the assembly rooms dancing to the orchestra. You and I can have tea and conversation without any gossipy eyes spying us together.”
“Which hotel?”
“Blushing Maid Inn. Do you know it? I always stay there.”
Know it? Gladys always stayed there, too. Which meant, five years ago, they had indeed been under the same roof when her life fell apart as she knew it. To save her from ruin, all Medford would have had to do was walk down the corridor and knock on her door.
“Here.” He pulled a calling card and a pencil out of his waistcoat pocket, scrawled something on the back of the card, then placed the small rectangle in the palm of her hand.
The moonlight was just bright enough to make out: Tea. Room Six. 5 o’clock.
She started to lower the card.
“Wait.” He cupped the bottom of her hand and scribbled something else on the card.
P.M. He’d added “P.M.” to the hour. Butterflies fluttered in her belly.
Her lips almost quirked at the silly inside jest before she remembered Mary Smith wouldn’t know about the conversation Lady Dawn had shared with the Lord of Stars.
Gladys wasn’t certain what to think about Medford remembering an idle joke from five years earlier.
Perhaps he hadn’t remembered anything. More likely, specifying the exact time of day was just a peculiar quirk of his, like lying in wait behind a hedgerow in a statue garden. The coincidence meant nothing. Just like a lonely, trusting wallflower called Gladys had meant nothing.
But all of that was about to change.
Chapter 9
Reuben was preposterously nervous.
He still could not quite credit that he’d invited Miss Smith to his rented lodgings. He never brought women into his private space. He preferred to control the length of the encounter. To be the one who walked away.
But when she’d caught him behind the hedgerow, haunting a statue garden in the hopes of recreating that magical moment with Lady Dawn, what else could he do but hold on tight whilst he could?
Even if Lady Dawn would have materialized like an apparition in the mist, Reuben was fully aware the encounter was unlikely to end differently this time. He was still not the marrying sort. Even for Lady Dawn. But he had never stopped wishing for a few more moments of her company.
When Miss Smith had stepped into view, it had felt just like that long-ago moment. Instinctively, Reuben could not help but reenact it. For the briefest of moments, he’d even convinced himself…
But of course that was ridiculous. Miss Smith could not be less like Lady Dawn. For one, she knew how to kiss. In the space of a heartbeat, she’d turned him inside out and left him panting for more. His heart hadn’t stopped pounding in remembrance.
A soft knock sounded on the oak door.
Reuben smiled. Perfect timing. It was time for more.
It was five o’clock precisely. He swung the door open wide before Miss Smith could change her mind and fly away. There was no sense pretending he hadn’t been standing on the other side of the threshold since half past four, in anticipation of Miss Smith’s arrival.
His throat went dry at the sight of her.
Her smooth brown hair was swept up at the nape, with loose tendrils framing her pretty face. Her lips were quirked, one eyebrow arched, her dark brown eyes knowing. Her gown was at once chaste and seductive, covering everything it ought to, whilst hugging her curves and billowing sensuously about her long legs. Every inch of her looked positively delectable.
There was nothing he wanted more than to reach for her, to pull her into his embrace, to cover her mouth with his and feel her soft curves melt against him.
If he tried it, however, he was more likely to feel the sharp slap of her palm against his cheek. She would kiss him when and if she wished to, she’d warned him. And only if he’d earned it.
