‘Maybe it was just my imagination,’ she said after a few moments, looking down at their joined hands. ‘I was so nervous before the ball. Maybe this was just a reaction to it.’
‘Perhaps.’ He moved his thumb slowly back and forth. ‘But I hope you enjoyed this evening a little. In case Cassie didn’t mention it enough times, you were the perfect marchioness.’
‘Not perfect, but I did enjoy myself. Everyone was much nicer than I expected, especially towards the end of the evening.’ She slid her tongue between her lips. ‘I suppose that was after someone started those rumours about us being a love match.’
He didn’t say anything. Now that her panic had eased, he found his mind drifting towards how smooth and silky her skin felt beneath his fingertips, sending fiery sparks shooting along his nerves. He could smell that floral scent again too, jasmine and honeysuckle and rose. The confined space of her bed seemed far too small suddenly, as if the air between them was getting thinner. He ought to go back to his own room, he told himself, only he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up. Sitting together in the semi-darkness, while the rest of the house slept, reminded him of the night he’d found her in the hallway at Rainton Court. Only their relationship had changed since then.
He coughed. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘Much better.’ She took a deep breath, her breasts heaving again. ‘Thank you for coming to help me.’
‘Do you think you can sleep?’
Her gaze flickered uncertainly. ‘I might read for a little bit, but you should go. I’ll be all right.’
He hesitated, looking towards the door and then back again. ‘You know, after my mother died I had nightmares every night for months. Cassie used to sleep in my room to comfort me. Whenever I woke, we would play games. Cards mostly. Vingt-Un is still my favourite.’ He tilted his head. ‘What do you say?’
‘You mean now?’ A shy smile crept across her lips. ‘I’d like that.’
‘So would I.’ He let go of her hand reluctantly. ‘Let me fetch a pack of cards and a candle.’
It was almost noon by the time Florence found herself at the breakfast table the next morning, blowing air over a cup of steaming hot chocolate, while she listened to her husband and sister-in-law bicker. It was, she reflected, a lot like listening to her brothers back home in Cumberland. The whole scene felt strangely comforting, as if she was part of a family again.
‘Surely a couple more days won’t make so much difference?’ Cassie implored Leo. ‘You’ve barely arrived.’
‘We’ve been here for five days.’ He bit into his toast with a loud crunch.
‘Exactly. Scarcely time to unpack. Oh, do say you’ll reconsider. The Ives are holding a Venetian picnic by the river tomorrow afternoon.’
‘And?’
‘And you and Florence were such a success at the Jenners’ ball, it seems a shame not to capitalise on it. I’m sure the wholetonis still talking about you this morning.’
‘Do you really think that’s going to encourage me to do it again?’ He reached for his tea. ‘Have we met? Do you know me at all? Because I could have sworn we were related in some way…’
‘Pooh!’ Cassie rolled her eyes. ‘All I’m saying is that it’s unfair to deny people further opportunities to see and discuss you, especially when the Season finishes so soon. Besides,I’dlike to spend some more time with you. That’s not so terrible, is it?’
‘Not at all. You’re welcome to visit Rainton Court whenever you wish.’
‘Oh, don’t be so difficult. You know I can’t stand the placeandI hate to travel.’ Cassie waved a hand dismissively. ‘I only married George because his estate is in Kent.’
‘I thought you said you loved me?’ George peered over the top of his newspaper.
‘I do, darling. But I only agreed to marry you once I discovered how close your property was to London.’
‘Ah.’ The paper lifted again. ‘Fair enough.’
‘In any case,’ Leo went on, ‘we have commitments back at Rainton.’
‘Rearrange them!’ Cassie pouted. ‘Have you asked your wife what she thinks?’
‘Yes, he has,’ Florence answered, lifting her cup to hide her amusement.
‘And you want to leave me too?’ Cassie sounded dismayed.
‘No, but it’s the summer fair. We need to be back for it.’
‘Oh, good grief, you’re as bad as he is.’ Cassie abandoned her perfect posture in order to fling herself back in her chair. ‘Who cares about the blasted fair?’
