She laughed. ‘We’ll take that as read. Try again.’
‘I’m no good at guessing games, you should know that.’
‘True. How about I give you a clue?’
‘Go on.’
‘If I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, what do you think that would mean?’
‘That you were tired and needed a rest?’ he said with a smile, admiring her charmingly pretty face while she couldn’t observe him. ‘Or that you were listening to something in the distance and concentrating on—’
‘Oh do get on with it!’ she said, opening her eyes. ‘A girl can’t sit here forever practically begging to be kissed.’
He kissed her as he had the night of the village dance, and she responded with the same passion that had so surprised him then. It stirred in him the desire to lift her in his arms and lay her gently on the floor, and then explore every soft line and curve of her body. It made him want to feel the warmth of her smooth skin against his and to … But no! He daren’t rush things; she meant too much to him. He would be led by her. He had sufficient wit to know that with a girl like Evelyn, there could be no other way.
‘You’re thinking about something other than kissing me, aren’t you?’ she said, pushing him away from her so she could look into his eyes. ‘What is it?’
Caught off guard by her perceptiveness, he tried to explain himself, but couldn’t find the right words. Instead he stroked her cheek. ‘I was thinking that given I’m such a chump, I’m at a loss to know why you would show the slightest interest in me.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d call you a chump with potential, and with the right sort of handling I might be able to turn you into very nearly the genuine article. I make no promises, mind.’
He smiled happily and put his arm around her. ‘I don’t know why I put up with your constant mocking.’
‘You do it because you like me and I like you.’
‘Foolishly I was under the impression that when a person cared for another, it involved being nice to that person. Or have I got that completely wrong?’
‘My dear Kit, you have so very much to learn.’
‘I’m beginning to realise just how much. What about another lesson in kissing you?’
She laughed. ‘You see, you’re getting the hang of this already!’
‘And now for the serious part,’ she said, when again they parted. She took both of his hands in hers, and clasped them firmly. ‘I will write to you as often as I can in the weeks and months ahead, if you’d like me to, but on one condition.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That you promise not to do anything silly once you get yourself involved in this war. No unnecessary heroics just to impress me. Do you understand?’
He nodded. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After looking in on Annelise and finding her sleeping soundly, Hope was now in her own bedroom and studying the illustrations she had finished for her publisher.
Nobody was more critical of her work than she was herself, and to her highly judgemental eye one or two of the pen-and-ink drawings were not her best, but given the circumstances, she was amazed she had managed to draw anything at all. She placed them carefully on top of each other with a layer of tissue paper between, then began to wrap them in brown paper ready to take to London in the morning. Kit had offered to deliver them for her, and she had almost been prepared to trust him with the task, but then she had received a letter from Edmund in that morning’s post inviting her to have lunch with him.
To her shame, her immediate reaction on reading Edmund’s letter had been to accept the invitation, but then she had remembered she couldn’t just go off and leave Annelise. And then she had thought of Dieter. That her husband had not been her first consideration shocked her. How could she be so disloyal to Dieter? How could she think of enjoying herself having lunch with another man? Even if it was only Edmund, a childhood friend. She had stuffed the letter into her skirt pocket and blinked back the tears, but not before Romily had seen her. ‘Bad news?’ she had asked. ‘It’s not your publisher making unreasonable demands on you, is it?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Hope had answered.
‘Anything I can help with? Other than maybe mind my own business?’
And then, because she had suddenly felt so wretched, Hope had blurted out the nature of Edmund’s letter and her reaction.
‘Ah, I see,’ Romily had said, her expression instantly one of empathy. ‘I understand completely. I would have the same reaction. But one thing I know, Jack wouldn’t want me to be miserable for the rest of my life, and if lunch with an old friend might cheer me up, he would want me to do it. Do you think Dieter would have felt the same way?’
‘Even if I answer yes to that,’ Hope had said, ‘there’s still the matter of Annelise, I can hardly take her with me.’
