“Oh. I thought I cannae sayfuckingin front of a lady. But then ye did. So I can?”
“You may use any euphemisms you like, Alfie. You needn’t censor yourself on my account,” Davina insisted.
Rory was not interested in that outcome. “No, ye’ll not, lad. Yer ma will have my hide if she hears ye talking like that.”
“Rory…” he whined.
“No.”
The bickering continued for several moments while I very much regretted the choice to attend supper instead of requesting a tray for the feather bed. I wasn’t fond of dancing, but for Davina, I could have mustered a jig.
Twenty-Five
LEIGHTON HALL—APRIL 12, 1817
DAVINA
By unspoken agreement,Kit and I refrained from more pleasurable activities after supper as we waited for Mrs. Reed and Gibbs to retire. Fortunately, it seemed that the hubbub of actual residents in the house left them both exhausted and they retired shortly after we did.
We padded barefoot through the hall, past the cacophony of snores from Alfie’s room, down the stairs, and into the study by candlelight. Kit had shucked both his overcoat and waistcoat and tossed his cravat on the bed before we left the chambers. The sight of his forearms in the flickering light was so distracting I nearly tripped down the stairs. Kit’s hand found my waist at the same time mine found the railing, an impressive reaction truly.
My innate love of an adventure warred with my newfound lust, and it was genuinely difficult to decide whether to kiss him senseless or continue to the study.
Kit’s response to what was surely a wanton expression on my face was a half growl, half groan as he turned and guided me down the rest of the steps. It was heady, the understanding ofwhat I did to him, even if I was studiously not considering his requirement.
He closed the heavy wooden door behind us, dropped my hand, and pulled my candle from the other. A flush rose up my neck at the sight ofthe wall. My lips were still swollen from his attentions there and I wanted nothing more than to worsen them.
A few years ago, Celine finally gave in to my whining and we had alittle talk. It was mostly her desperate attempt to prevent conception or disease as she didn’t trust me to refrain from liaisons. Cee was a practical woman. She didn’t object to discreet, safe arrangements. She had been rather graphic when she described all the ways a man and a woman might find pleasure. Most of her explanations hadn’t seemed overly pleasant at the time, but they were suddenly very intriguing. One in particular… Well, I couldn’t help but wonder if my skin would tingle everywhere the way it had when Kit’s beard met the skin of my jaw.
“Absolutely not,” he grumbled behind me. He spun me around to face him, hands fastened on my shoulders. “No walls. No floors. Not for the first time. And not until after you’ve promised to be mine.”
“But—”
“I’m a determined man, Davina. Once I decide something, I’m not easily swayed. And I’ve had years of practice denying my attraction to you.”
“What?” He’d reduced me to an imbecile who only knew a single word once again. It was an irritating talent.
“Oh, didn’t you know? I’ve been besotted forever.” He offered a cheeky grin. If I hadn’t already seen his true smile, I might have counted it as a whole one. “Since the pirate whiskey, at least. Before, really, but I didn’t realize it until that day.”
“No, you weren’t,” I insisted.
“I was. You wore that peach dress. Speaking of— I will be absolutely devastated if the mud has rendered it unwearable.” His hands slid from my shoulders and traced, featherlight, down to catch my hands.
“Usually you were all covered with lace and ribbons and finery, and it wasn’t hard to remember that you were so far above me. No point in falling in love with a goddess, after all. But that day you were a just… a woman. That was when I knew.”
“A peach dress? That’s it?”
“I told you, it was just that peach dress. But like I said, you were always lovely and lively. You made me laugh, even when I shouldn’t. My heart always nearly fell out of my chest when you’d done something absurdly dangerous. But I think I knew there was no point to those thoughts, so I never followed them to their conclusion. You opened the box that day, though, and I’ve never been able to stuff it all back in.”
“Kit, that was more than a year ago.”
“Aye, it’s been a long year. But you should know what you’re up against. I’m in the practice of self-denial.”
How did this man keep doing this to me? At every opportunity he spun me around and around until I didn’t know which way was up and the only thing I could manage was to cling to him. How had I ever thought him dull?
“Come,” he whispered. “We’ve a mystery to solve. I need the expert.” I tripped after him, my feet at first stuck somewhere near the door with my head.
He found the book where we’d left it and handed me the key. I knelt before the desk drawer and popped it open with ease, seemingly undisturbed from this afternoon. I hauled out the files and plopped them on the desk before feeling around the bottom edges of the drawer.
