“No. No one does, as it happens.”
Thalia’s eyes flicked up to his; something startled in their depths. “No one at all?”
“No one in theton, except for you, I suppose. Although that was more coincidence than intention.”
“What a secret,” she mused, one finger going to her mouth.
He watched the way it pressed against the soft flesh, paling the color, with what he hoped was not ravenous hunger.
He felt ravenous when it came to Thalia. None of his usual entertainments had sustained him. All he wanted was her, and it was driving him wild.
“If you had not intervened that first day, your secret would have remained safe,” she said.
“On the contrary, I have seen you several times since.”
“You could have avoided me any of those times.”
He gritted his teeth at the idea of having abandoned her to the devices of the thugs who spent their time at that place. “You ought to know by now that I am not the sort of man who would do such things.”
She pursed her lips as she looked at him. “No,” she said eventually. “I don’t believe you are. And I can hardly blame you for it, much as I sometimes wish you would leave me to my own devices.”
“So you might find yourself attacked on a street?”
“That,” she allowed with a slight smile, “was a singular case. It has never happened before…or since.”
“No, I can see it hasn’t, or you would not be sitting here with me.” He forced his hands to relax on his thighs. “Whyareyou here, out of interest? I am loath to assume it’s for the joy of my company.”
“I don’t know,” she said, her tone coy. “Perhaps I rather enjoyed watching you in the ring the other day. Boxing is such a fine sport, I think, although I never used to think so. Whydoyou do it and keep it such a secret?”
He hesitated, but when she looked at him, there was no censure in her eyes. It was as though she was actually curious.
Still, sitting in this stifling room with eyes on them and frustrated at his situation roaring through him, he felt as though he couldn’t fully articulate his reasoning.
“Walk with me,” he said abruptly, and rose. “I need some fresh air. We will stay within view of the house.”
If she was surprised by the request, she didn’t show it, merely rising and shaking out her dress. Of course, she wasn’t dismayed by this slight breach of propriety, as she regularly snuck out of her father’s home to visit disreputable clubs. This, in comparison, was nothing.
She frowned at his shoulder, then removed her glove and brushed at something on his shoulder. As she did so, he noted that her fingers, although delicate, were not as soft and smooth as they had appeared. Her nails were small—practical, even—and her fingertips were blunted with what he would have guessed to be some form of labor.
As though she sensed his attention, she curled her fingers into fists. He averted his gaze while she slipped her hand back into her glove.
Outside, a breeze stirred the distant trees, and London appeared shrouded in moonlight. He preferred the city at night, though it was arguably far more dangerous.
Beside him, Thalia tipped back her head to look at the moon. “I’ve always loved being outdoors,” she said dreamily. “There’s something so beautiful about the world at night.”
She was beautiful at night; the distant lamplight limned her dark hair and pale skin, and her eyes were like starlight themselves. She reminded him of a goddess somehow. Perhaps Diana, goddess of the hunt.
Although if he had his history correct, he rather hoped she wasnotlike Diana in other ways.
Not that it should make any difference to him.
“So… tell me about boxing,” she said, glancing up at him, starry eyes full.
“Boxing,” he repeated. “I suppose you could say it has always been a means of… reprieve.”
“Mm.” They walked past a rose bush, and she brushed her gloved fingers along the petals, the movement so delicate it made something inside him stir. “An escape. I understandthat, at least.”
“Do you?” The words came out too cynical for a moonlit stroll.
