Temple.The name calmed her racing heart and soothed the pounding in her brain.
“How in heaven’s name are you flying?”She threw the window open, and he climbed through as she stuck her head out.Night once more.She’d slept all day.“What is wrong with the shop’s sign?”The iron arm that extended the hanging sign from the side of the building had warped upward.It snaked like a vine toward her window now.
“Can’t manipulate metal that’s already been set.But the sign had some rust on it, so I could reach inside and twist it a bit.Not too much.Not sure I could’ve gotten up here otherwise.The window ledges helped.”
She blinked, pulling back into the room and shutting the window.“Did you physically reach inside it?”
He slapped his hands together, brushed his palms on his pants, and winked.
“I want to see you do it one day.See you work in your forge.See how it’s done.”True.She wanted it badly.But she’d never have that opportunity.Not unless… “You owe Lady Guinevere a new sign.”
“She’ll have it.And perfectly set so no one can manipulate it.I’ll even rust-proof it.”
“You can do that?”
He nodded, yawned.“I came earlier, but they told me you were sleeping.Why is your bed in front of the window?”
“Why are you climbing through my window?”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a dull yellow stone, its glow extinguishing.Her own stone, its companion, lay on her bed, dull yellow as well.
“Oh.I must have rolled atop it in my sleep.Apologies.”
“None needed.”He gave another yawn, ambled closer to her.The last time they’d been alone in her room, he’d entirely shattered her sense of what was possible in the world, in the body, in regards to pleasure.“You did not dress for bed.”
She’d not known she was going to bed.Her body ached for relief from her corset.“Will you chastise me for it?”
“Will you let me undress you?”
A dangerous answer sat ready on the tip of her tongue.Yes.She ran from one man, a sniveling mess.From another, she seemed to want to hide nothing, would agree to letting him strip her bare.
“Help me put this bed back where it belongs?”Furniture rearrangement a distraction from that realization.No, more like it gave her time to consider other questions she might say yes to, should he ask.
He helped her without asking again why she’d moved it to begin with.Thank God.She’d hate to have to admit it was because she felt safer where she could see the very space he’d last been.
“Your meeting with the king last night?”she asked.“How did it go?”
“As well as can be expected.I move too slowly for him.”
“Do you have news from Mr.Squires?”She could at least discover why Apollo had been here.
He huffed a laugh.“Funniest thing.He swears your cousin has no talent.Thinks the man’ll be caught out soon.Then that’s it for the Fordham estate.Either King William will give it to someone else, or it will dissolve completely.”His gaze sharpened itself on her.“Does that upset you?”
“No.”It felt freeing.If everyone thought the Fordham talent truly dissipated, then they would not listen to Apollo if he decided to tell her secret.Quite possibly, they’d think him a ranting madman.They’d scoff.A woman had inherited a marquess’s talent?Unlikely.
Yet every bump in the night made Apollo her monster.Every stranger in the road kicked her heart into a desperate racing rhythm.
She could not live like this—terrified of her cousin, expecting every new morning to bring her closer to his vengeance.He’d been here.So close to finding her if he hadn’t already.
Yet she had no money to leave and would not earn a large enough sum for some time yet.Weary soul exhaustion chased her.It would soon run her over like a passenger train.No mercy.No slowing down.
In a few hours, the rooftops of Finsbury Square would glow pink and orange.Morning would come, and she had a choice.Terror, running, hiding the rest of her days, or?—
“He asked me, again, about a wife.”Temple’s hand had somehow slipped into hers.He squeezed it.
“And what did you tell him?”she asked, her voice as soft as the coming morning.
He spoke softly, too.“What I always do.That I’m very diligently working on it.”
“I think you should tell him something else, Temple.”
They were facing one another, and their hands had come alive, wandering where they pleased.Hers had found his chest, flattened, savoring his strength.The strength he was offering her.The protection.His hands found their favorite places—cupping the back of her neck, nestled in the small of her back.
He pulled her closer.No space between them now.His eyes were silver moons.“What should I tell him, Diana?”
“That you’ve found a woman to be your wife.”
