It’d taken her a minute to comprehend. When she did, unholy heat had risen up her face.
“I’m not discussing this with you,” she’d muttered.
“That’s fine.” He’d nuzzled her ear, his bristle scraping the tender lobe, his wicked tone raising goose pimples everywhere. “Because I’d much rather you show me.”
She couldn’t believe what he’d talked her into doing. Or how much she’d enjoyed it. Or how muchhe’d enjoyed it. His pupils flared, he’d interrupted her halfway through her performance, positioning her on her hands and knees, shafting her from behind until she’d cried her pleasure into the pillows…twice.
“You do look a bit peaked.” Hypatia peered at her.
“I’m fine.” Maggie drained her cup and avoided Rhys’s laughing eyes.
“Mr. Newton should be arriving any moment now,” Patty said, reaching for the silver toast rack. “We’ll get to the Plum Forest restaurant right when it opens.”
“Why can’t I go?” Glory wheedled, not for the first time.
“It’s no errand for children,” Maggie said, also not for the first time. “You’ll have more fun here with Bertha and Victor.”
Luckily, the girl had taken a liking to the brawny blond guard, and she wasn’t the only one. Maggie thought she’d caught sparks between Victor and her lady’s maid. Perhaps being a woman in love made her recognize the emotion in others, she thought giddily.
“I’m tired of staying in the hotel. It’s boring.” Glory turned pleading eyes to Rhys. “Say I can go, please, Ransom?”
“Your mama’s right, poppet. Your place is here, where you’re safe.”
Glory’s bottom lip jutted out. “You’re just as bad as mama.”
“We both want what is best for you.” His tone was firm yet warm. “How about this? Once our business is done, we’ll go on a full tour of London. We can visit any attraction you like.”
“Really?” Glory asked, wide-eyed. “Even Astley’s Amphitheatre?”
“When I said anything, I meant anything.”
“Hooray!”She threw her hands into the air.
Maggie exchanged an amused glance with Rhys just as a knock sounded on the door.
“Ah, there’s Newton now,” Rhys said. “Punctual as ever.”
Bertha went to get the door, returning alone moments later.
“Where’s Newton?” Rhys asked.
“That wasn’t Mr. Newton that came, Your Grace,” the maid said. “It was a delivery from Mrs. Kent. The guards have it out in the hallway.”
“Tessa mentioned that she’d send something by for Glory,” Maggie said. “How kind of her.”
“For me?” Glory shot up from the table.
“Manners, dear,” Maggie said.
“May I be excused?”
“Yes—”
Glory dashed past Bertha toward the door. Moments later, whoops of joy sounded.
Smiling, Maggie said to the maid, “What did Mrs. Kent send?”
Bertha looked oddly wary. “I think you’d best go see for yourself, ma’am.”
