Violet paused. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“I wouldn’t wish such thoughts on any proper lady.” He reached behind her and plucked a fragrant bundle of lilacs, only to softly tease the tender buds along the side of her face, and the mood between the two of them changed.
“What must you think of me?”
“You don’t want him to come back.”
“If he is alive, and didn’t return by choice…” That would mean she’d meant very little to him. It would mean… She shook her head.
“You are, and always will be, a proper lady, Violet.”
She stared up at him. “Even if I am contemplating…?”
“Even if…” He leaned forward, this time to tease her with his lips. “I do want you, Violet. But the decision must be yours.”
“It must be both of ours.” Her voice wobbled. “Because you, as a servant, are vulnerable too.” Never once had he seemed vulnerable in any way, but it was true just the same. “I never want you to feel pressured… and if…”
“Yes?”
“If we both agree to it, we must act with the utmost of discretion.”
His mouth moved closer to hers, and his voice was low. “Have you decided, then?”
She swayed toward him as the fragrant flowers mingled with his scent swept away both her morals and her balance.
“I have.” She tipped her head so her mouth was only inches from his and became more daring still. “Kiss me, Simon.”
She did not need to ask a second time.
The second his lips touched hers, her misgivings vanished.
His good arm wound around her back, drawing her closer. Warmth ebbed from her heart to her limbs. How had she thought she could go the rest of her life without this? Every inch of her skin was alive, begging for his touch. And she met his tongue with hers, dancing and sparring and exploring.
The sounds of his breath matched hers—along with the whispers of their mouths and the leaves in the trees softly rustling.
His scent, mingled with the lilacs behind her, swirled in her brain. She clung to him lest her knees give out beneath her.
And then wanted to cry when he ended it, moving his hand to gently stroke her cheek with the back of his knuckles.
All that warmth turned into embarrassment. He didn’t want her like she wanted him. She didn’t want to be a duty, a chore.
She dropped her forehead to his chest. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I never meant to put you in such an awkward position.” She spoke into the wool of his jacket, and her voice sounded different than normal…lower, thready.
“Violet.” He touched her chin, tipping her head back. “What in the devil are you talking about?”
“You… you stopped.”
At this, he raised his brows and then flicked a glance toward the house.
“You may want me, but it might not be worth it to you.” She wasn’t the sort of woman men took risks for. “I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“So you’ve said.” Rather than agree and walk her back to the manor, he grasped her hand. “That’s what I wish to avoid, for both of us.” He drew her across the lawn, into the small gardener’s hut, and closed the door behind them.
“What—?”
But before she could ask what he was doing, he’d lifted her onto the worktable that ran the length of the small building, stepped between her legs, and took up their kiss with greater urgency than before.
His hand plucked at her hair, and a luxurious freedom swept through her when her chignon fell loose.
