“Adeline.”
She froze.
He let his hand drop almost at once. “Forgive me. I forget myself.”
“No,” she said, her voice soft but certain, “I forget myself, too.”
For a moment, neither moved. Then she stepped back, folded the towel neatly, and left him to finish dressing. In the corridor, she pressed a hand to her chest, the rhythm of her heart still wild. She knew this was the edge of something she could neither deny nor safely cross. And yet, as she stood there in the quiet of the house, she found she was smiling, small, uncertain, but real.
Downstairs, the clock chimed six. Cordelia and Louisa would be back soon, full of stories and laughter. Adeline straightened her gown and went to meet them, still feeling the warmth of Winston’s hand ghosting against hers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The carriage returned at half past five, the sound of its wheels cutting through the hum of the evening traffic along St. James’s. Winston had been reading in the library, but put the book aside the moment Louisa’s laughter reached him through the window. It was a welcome relief from the thoughts that had been torturing him.
Being supported around the gardens by Adeline had reminded him of the feeling of her body. Of the attraction that he felt for her. Intense and undeniable. Having to allow her to help him from his bath, naked and dripping, was a level of torment almost more than he could bear.
We have shared intimacies enough. More and I risk what I have never countenanced. The weakness of attachment.
At the return of Louisa and Cordelia, he could put Adeline from his mind, if only for a while. His mother swept into the roomas though borne by triumph itself, Louisa fluttering at her heels with a paper cone of sugared almonds.
“You’ll never believe our day,” Cordelia began before he could speak. “We met my old school friend, the Duchess of Kent herself at Vauxhall, of all places! I had not realized how long it had been. Louisa was a babe in arms last time I saw her. She was quite taken with your daughter, I must say.”
Louisa’s grin was bright. “She said I looked like a princess!”
“She did,” Cordelia confirmed, and held up a small envelope, her expression gleaming. “And to prove it, here’s an invitation to Almack’s tonight.”
“Tonight?” Winston repeated, half-smiling despite himself. “That leaves us hardly any time to prepare. Most unlike you, Mother.”
Cordelia waved a hand. “Nonsense. You’ve always been the quickest man I know when it comes to dressing for Society. Adeline and I will manage. Besides, you may consider this revenge for your whirlwind decision to bring us into town in the first place.”
He felt, rather than saw, Adeline in the doorway. She was composed as ever, but the faint tension at the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
“Isn’t it marvelous?” Cordelia said, turning to her. “The Duchess of Kent, and her daughter, the Lady Victoria, no less. She is a cousin to the Regent and something like fifteenth in line to the throne. We must all go. Louisa will love the lights and the gowns. And Winston simply must be introduced to Lady Victoria.”
“Yes,” Adeline said quietly, “it’s very kind of Her Grace.”
Winston caught her eye. Her calmness was practiced; beneath it he sensed dread. When Cordelia and Louisa left to ready themselves, he crossed the room so he could stand next to Adeline.
“You’d rather not go,” he said softly.
She hesitated for only a moment. “It will be another crowded scene, and I’ve no place among those people.”
“Those people are merely people,” he said, “and you’ll be with me. No one will trouble you.”
Her gaze lifted to his. The space between them charged in the way it had done earlier, before in his steam-filled room.
“You can’t promise that,” she said.
“Watch me,” he replied quietly.
For a moment, neither moved. Then she turned, breaking the connection with a nervous smile.
“Very well, Winston. For Louisa’s sake.” She paused for a moment, biting her lip. “And thank you for not making it an order.”
“As I did when I brought you to London with us,” Winston said.
“As is your right. I am still your employee.”
