Their control already extended too far, and this just gave Jeremy another reason to neutralize them.
“I’m not leaving him here.” Lydia rose to her feet again and crossed her arms in front of her, pushing her bosom up and unintentionally reminding him of what they’d been doing before being so rudely interrupted.
But he couldn’t get sidetracked. Lydia could be incredibly stubborn when she wanted to be; it was often easier to work with or around her rather than against her. He refused to let her bring the little thief home though.
Perhaps his own place of residence, then. The housekeeper at his manor on Cork Street was something of a dragon and ought to be able to keep the boy out of trouble.
Maybe.
He stared down at the orphan, who was feigning innocence all too convincingly. “I might have a position for you.”
“You mean you would take him home with you?” Lydia gazed at him with so much delight and wonder that he was tempted to go in search of ten more orphans to welcome into his home.
At that ridiculous thought, Jeremy clenched his jaw and scowled. “He’ll have to earn his keep.”
“But you have a warm bed for him, and food—and most importantly, he’ll be safe!” The scowl must not have looked stern enough because her ridiculous wonder flourished, in her smile, her voice, and the grateful clasp of her hands. “Did you hear that, Ollie? Lord Tempest is going to take you home with him.”
“But I’d rather go with you.” Ollie sidled up next to her.
Although doomed to be sorely disappointed, the child had excellent taste.
“You’ll come with me, or you’ll remain with your friends on the docks.” Jeremy supposed he ought to send a watchman over. And repair all the locks. They were lucky the warehouse hadn’t already filled up with vagrants.
“You’ll not regret it, Ollie.” Lydia took hold of the boy’s hand and glanced over her shoulder at Jeremy, her full, pink lips tilted up into that devastating smile of hers.
More worshipful wonder.
“We’re finished here for the day, are we not?” she asked.
Jeremy fisted his hands at his sides. “I suppose so.”
After being delivered backto Heart Place, assured by Jeremy that Ollie would be safely situated in the Tempest household, Lydia lay back and soaked in a long hot bath, feeling acutely aware that, but for a colossal stroke of luck, she and Lucinda and her brothers could have ended up just like Ollie. She’d been orphaned at the age of four.
Only, her father had been a duke.
Was that why she’d agreed so quickly to work on this project with Clarissa? Because of guilt? She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as Louise carefully poured a pitcher of water, rinsing the soap from Lydia’s hair.
Life wasn’t fair. Was it wrong that guilt motivated her?
Working out her motivations would have been a good deal easier if her mind didn’t keep persistently returning to the most astounding fact thatJeremy had kissed her!And not in the manner he’d kissed her last summer.
This kiss had been… alarming.Devastating.Exciting.
This kiss had been magnificent.
Her heart fluttered, and she shivered.
“Your towel, my lady.” Louise assisted her out of the copper tub and then dried her off before helping Lydia into one of her day dresses, a low-waisted jonquil muslin with a V-neck and sleeves large enough to store a small dog in each.
Too discombobulated to join her aunt in her knitting downstairs, Lydia sat down to make notes of what she and Jeremy had discussed.
Only… rather than summon words to write, her mind kept going back to those few moments before Ollie had interrupted them.
Jeremy had kissed her with the same desperation she’d experienced. Did that mean he felt the same?
His lips had been hard and demanding, almost as though he was angry. At her? No, she decided, most definitely not at her.
At himself? Lydia dipped her pen in the jar of ink.
