We reached an even safer area of town than the merchant row he lived on. His hand dropped to his side. I found myself missing the warmth. During a furtive glance in his direction, I caught his gaze on my hand swinging softly at my side. He stared at it for two paces, three, four before taking a deep breath andwrapping his hand around it. Rewarding him for his bravery, I slotted our fingers together and he gave a gentle squeeze.
“Left, Cadieux House is just up there.” I gestured with my chin, unwilling to let go of his hand for the sake of clarity. “The one with the white pillars and the wrought iron fence.”
He nodded thoughtfully, then took another fortifying breath with a glance at our entwined hands. “Would it be presumptuous to ask if I could call on you?” He must have read my hesitation because he continued, “Just to see that you’re all right, I mean. Sometimes bruises and such take time to develop.”
“Yes, you may call on me. But I have to make a visit tomorrow morning. Perhaps in the afternoon? Or another day?”
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
“You aren’t needed in the office?”
“I’m the owner. I’m simultaneously always needed and never needed depending on who you ask and which moment you ask them.” I rewarded his white lie with a genuine laugh as we reached the door.
“Goodnight, William,” I whispered as Bouvier opened the door behind me with a disapproving tut.
“Goodnight, Celine.” He turned and scampered away, likely eager to avoid whatever menacing expression my butler had donned.
“What on earth?” Bouvier stared, jaw slack at my frightful state.
“Not now, Bouvier.”
“In the morning then. You had us all worried sick.”
“I’m sorry to have upset you. You may lecture me at your leisure in the morning.”
“Very well. I’ll have a bath drawn for you. May I take your… men’s great coat?”
“Please, and the umbrella as well.”
“Of course.” I wandered down the hall, eager to be elsewhere when he inspected the item.
“What did you do to this?” he called after me.
“You really do not wish to know.”
“You will be the death of me, you know that don’t you?”
“Goodnight, Bouvier.”
“Goodnight, madame.”
Fourteen
HART AND SUMMERS, SOLICITORS, LONDON - JUNE 13, 1816
WILLIAM
The morningafter the strangest day of my life, I woke surprisingly refreshed. Considering the sheer number of things I was studiouslynotthinking about, it was a wonder I found sleep at all.
My back, shoulders, and bruised midsection protested when I moved wrong. Remnants of the scuffle last night. That fight… She could have been seriously injured, or worse, killed. And she held them off with an umbrella. I still couldn’t decide whether to kiss her or scold her. When I considered for too long, terror and lust swirled in a bizarre combination that left me entirely discomfited.
I was dressed and downstairs far earlier than was my custom. My desk was relatively clean when I settled in my chair with my coffee. Kit really had taken care of things yesterday afternoon. That would certainly cost me.
Though not as much as the questions I had for him.
A brief glance through the main room and out the door revealed an empty bench. That caused a pang ofdisappointment. My little shadow had been annoying, amusing, and intriguing. But I felt her absence keenly.
I hadn’t missed her in my dreams at least. In sleep, she was glorious, all gilded hair and skin, delicate curves, and sweet sighs. And desperate for me.
