“Permission, not forgiveness for taking the liberty,” she clarified.
“I only ask for forgiveness when I regret something… This I have no regrets over,” he said openly.
“At least you’re honest.”
“I’m nothing if not honest, Miss Essex…” He let her name linger, drawing it out slightly, longingly.
“You did just come to my rescue.” Elizabeth struggled to find her resolve to refuse him, but found she wished to hear her name from his lips again. The words came out in a rush. “Only if it is just the two of us. Already this is against my better judgment and is not proper.”
“So…never?” he teased. “So rarely is it only the two of us. However, I accept your terms.”
“Well, it’s currently just you and me, so ‘never’ wouldn’t be an accurate statement, would it?” Elizabeth replied, her muddled thoughts adding an indignant tone to her voice as she struggled to gain control of herself.
Collin huffed impatiently. “Do you ever tire of attempting to be right?”
“Do you?” she asked sweetly, too sweetly. There was steel under that sugar.
“No.”
“Me either,” she answered.
“Well, then, Elizabeth—” He grinned. “I must use the privilege while I can.”
She shook her head with a bemused expression.
“I am to meet Mr. Finch after I see you home safely. Do you wish me to tell him that it was you the black-eyed bandit assaulted? Or would you rather keep that between us?”
She was thankful for the change of subject, then paused as she recollected his words. “Black-eyed bandit?” she asked with derision.
“I thought that a clever name,” he answered.
She frowned. “Very well.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “No, don’t tell him. He’ll…worry and blame himself. You see, he was just walking me halfway home. He was to meet you, and I insisted I was safe…” She bit her lip and didn’t finish.
“I see.” Collin sighed. “I apologize.”
“For? What could you have possibly done differently? Not chase the man who is using your name for evil? I think not.” She shrugged.
“Regardless, I feel somewhat responsible. Mr. Finch should have ignored your insistence and walked you home, meeting with me be hanged.” He growled the last part. “You’re far more important.”
“Regardless, I’m quite well, considering all things, and you were there to assist me almost immediately.”
“I was the one chasing him… Again, I apologize—”
She held up a hand. “We’ve gone over this. No need.” She paused. “Please don’t tell Mr. Finch or Patricia. Let this just be between us.”
“I was right. We did become friends, a secret and all.”
He earned a giggle at that statement, and then a smile as well. If he didn’t find the “black-eyed bandit” tonight, he’d still consider the entire evening a victory.
“Friend.” She held out her hand.
He took it and shook it twice, noticing how her small hand fit perfectly in his. He reluctantly released her.
She glanced away, and he noted the way she stretched her hand a few times, as if his handshake was lingering with her.
It was certainly lingering with him.
How was it possible to be infuriated by and also attracted to a person? They continued walking toward her home.
