Being with her had always been good for him. How had he managed so long without her?
He pounded on the ceiling using his cane and, after giving his driver new instructions through the small opening, closed the small sliding door and settled in beside her again.
Lydia was the first to speak. “Quite a banner day.”
“My preparation paid off.” Jeremy exhaled loudly, running his free hand through his hair. “It’s why I haven’t been able to take you to see the progress at the warehouse.” It was the truth; he’d spent his every waking hour gathering documents and sorting through reports.
“I wasn’t sure…”
“I’m a fool. I should have made time for you.” He released her hand and slid his arm behind her shoulders instead, turning so he could see her better. “How are you?”
Such a simple question, and one that usually had an obvious answer.
“The truth?” The mere fact that she’d ask him this was revealing enough.
“Ah, Lydia.” She was so very precious to him—even more precious than before. “Tell me.”
He felt the small tremor run through her and pulled her closer.
“I’m… hopeful. But also afraid.”
He’d hurt her. But she had reason to hope again.
“Because of what happened between the two of us?”
She nodded slowly.
“Come here.”
A CARRIAGE RIDE
Jeremy didn’t care that he was revisiting trouble when he drew her onto his lap. But having her weight settle atop him felt like the most natural thing in the world.
“Is it because of the vase?” he teased. “Because I’ll have you know I’ve already located a replica that was made right here in London.”
“You did? You are teasing me.” But she was smiling now, sliding her hand up his chest and then onto his shoulder.
“You always give me reason to smile, did you know that?” Jeremy leaned his mouth very close to hers and then, tempted by the uptilt of her lips, closed the distance completely.
She welcomed his kiss with a soft sigh.
“Forgive me?” he asked.
“Always,” she breathed in answer.
At first, the kiss was a tender dance of memories, apologies, and forgiveness. But when she wound her other hand around his neck and arched into him, Jeremy’s heart raced, and he unbuttoned her coat with one hand while his other clutched her tightly against him.
“Jeremy.” Her whispered sighs ignited an almost unnatural desire to please her.
With her coat unfastened, Jeremy dipped his hand inside and cupped her breast over the fabric of her gown.
His fingertips located the tops of her stays, and he trailed them along the edge. She was a lady. If he had any honor at all, he would have asked for her hand the day he’d kissed her in the warehouse, and then again at Heart Place.
If he had any honor at all, he would have begged her to be his wife the day she’d come to Galewick Manor after he’d stormed out of his meeting with her brothers.
Honor wasn’t the simple concept he’d always believed it to be. Because the loyalty a man felt wasn’t limited to one person. And if it was, it could become a trap.
Is that what honoring his brother’s memory had become?
