She did laugh this time. “Should I thank you for the reminder?”
“No! But yes, I did say I would behave once you were dressed like a lady, however—you’re still wearing boots, not quite transformed yet.”
His hand caressed her cheek, then moved up through her hair, then down to the back of her neck, making her tingle with anticipation and tilt her head back so his mouth could more easily reach hers. But he hesitated when his mouth was a breath away. What a tease! She boldly bridged the gulf herself and was enraptured to taste him again, to hear his groan at her acquiescence. If there weren’t a loveless marriage looming in her future she would have protested—or would she? But the firm decision she’d made to wait for the right man and stop kissing the wrong one might be quite irrelevant now that marriage to the Rathban scion could turn out to be her father’s salvation.
Utterly unconcerned about the risk of discovery there in the corridor, she dropped the valise to put her arm around Monty’s neck, but he heard it drop and leaned back to look down by her feet, then met her eyes to accuse, “You were abandoning us without saying goodbye?”
“No, just moving to my old room,” she replied. “You didn’t actually think Mother would let me remain in this wing with male guests, did you?”
“What a shame.”
He feigned a sigh and braced his hands on the wall, one on either side of her head. She didn’t find his physical proximity threatening. In fact, she found it thrilling and deliciously improper because his leg was touching hers.
But he continued, “I thought about sneaking in on you one night for a little more of that activity, which my losing the bet yesterday forbids me to mention, but now I won’t be able to.”
She chuckled. “No you didn’t.”
“ ’Course I did. The bet didn’t say I couldn’t do it, only that I couldn’t mention it.”
“Ah, but it sounds to me like you did just mention it,” she said, and ducked under his arm to back slowly away from him down the corridor.
He didn’t pursue her, instead leaned a shoulder against the wall and asked, “So you completed all your reunions? How did it go with your mother?”
She paused for a moment to reply, “Not exactly how I expected.”
“Do I need to hide from the theatrics?”
“She’s not angry. Not pleased about some things, but not angry.”
“Splendid. I missed you at our meals.”
She wouldn’t admit she’d missed him, too. With a wave, she turned to continue on her way to the east wing.
The man still fascinated her in too many ways. And she enjoyed his banter—and his kisses. But she ought to start thinking of herself as affianced since she might be headed for an arranged marriage. Then again, would a man let a little thing like an engagement stop him from flirting and kissing elsewhere? Maybe if he loved his intended. However, she would be consigning herself to a marriage of convenience with a Rathbanifshe agreed to the match. But she wasn’t married yet . . .
Chapter Twenty-one
HER OLD ROOM WASbeing cleaned again, which was hardly necessary, but Vanessa entered it anyway, telling the two maids working there to just ignore her. It had been a little jarring when she’d come here earlier to get her dress and she had seen that the room appeared the same as when she’d left it. But she hadn’t paused to look at everything, all the things she hadn’t taken with her the night she’d run away to be with her father. Now she did. All her dolls, which she had stopped playing with but had been too sentimental to get rid of, still sat on the mantel. Her ice skates were still at the bottom of the wardrobe. But at least all the clothes she’d left behind had been removed to make room for her new clothes. Only one of her trunks from Scotland was still there.
She didn’t notice when the maids left because being in her old bedroom was bringing back so many childhood memories. When she opened the first drawer of the bureau, she realized the twins hadn’t unpacked the last trunk because they hadn’t wanted to empty the bureau when it might contain things she wanted to keep. And she most certainly wanted to keep all the ribbons that filled the drawer. She’d picked them out one day when Kathleen had taken her and the twins shopping in Dawton town, every white ribbon in the shop for Layla, all the pinks for Emily, but Vanessa got to have one of every color.
In the next drawer she found the rack of parasols her mother had bought for each of her daughters because they couldn’t leave the house without one, along with the wide-brimmed hats with netting they’d had to wear when they were allowed to garden. Kathleen didn’t object to floral gardening, a genteel hobby, as long as her daughters were outfitted in accoutrements that would protect them from the sun. But she adamantly objected to her girls riding, being rambunctious, swimming, fishing, or doing anything that kept them out in the sun too long.
At least she’d gotten to enjoy all that and more in Scotland. And she supposed the twins’ not having had the same fun experiences hadn’t hurt them. What they didn’t know, they wouldn’t miss.
And then in another drawer she saw a few items from Scotland that the twins had unpacked, including the box in which she’d packed her father’s portrait. It wasn’t a miniature, though it wasn’t large, about the size of a dinner plate, but it was such a good likeness of him she hadn’t wanted to risk its getting damaged on the trip and had wrapped it in linen before putting it in the wooden box. Had the twins peeked when they’d unpacked for her and stuck it in a drawer? Wouldn’t they have mentioned it if they had?
She opened the box, unwrapped the portrait, and held it in her hands. And the tears fell silently as she gazed at William’s likeness. She missed him so much! With all her heart she wished he could be home, too—and he could. She’d known, deep down, that she was willing to do whatever it would take to bring her father home, even marry a man she didn’t love. And Albert Rathban himself was handing the solution to her—if it wasn’t too late. It better not be too late.
A little while later, there was a knock on the door and she was surprised to find her sisters there. They’d never knocked on each other’s doors when they’d been children, but the twins were proper ladies now, so of course they wouldn’t barge in on her as they used to do.
“So here you are,” Layla said as she took one of Vanessa’s arms.
“Weren’t you told we’re having lunch with Mother in her rooms?” Emily asked, taking her other arm.
“We’re already late, so do come along.”
They were merely dragging her across the corridor. Vanessa didn’t laugh when she realized they might have thought she had no intention of joining them. They knocked on Kathleen’s door, too. A footman opened it. Two others were in the large room as well, having brought in the first course already placed on the table that would seat four.
