‘You should come out, you know,’ he called across the garden. ‘Nobody’s here, and you’ll catch a chill.’
She crept out, looking around, and made her way across the lawn to the bench. ‘People do not die from little trifling colds, I am sure,’ she quoted flippantly, trying to hide her horror.
Max raised an eyebrow. ‘I was just enjoying this fascinating tale you’ve penned. Or should I say, pencilled.’
Etta felt herself blush from head to toe, hot with embarrassment.
‘Where’s Charlie?’ she asked.
‘In bed. Where you should be.’
Etta bit her lip. ‘I had … Well, I had something to do.’
He looked her straight in the eyes, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Cooling down after writing these warm stories?’
She sank her head into her hands. ‘Ugh, how embarrassing. How much did you read?’
‘Not enough. You’re a very good writer. Very … imaginative.’
Etta raised her head, hearing amusement in his voice, and dared herself to look him in the eye.
She suddenly felt alone, as though balancing at the edge of a vast, crumbling, dangerous cliff. ‘Don’t you dare laugh at me. It wasn’t just me kissing you in that carriage. You kissed me back. I know it.’
Max was serious as he reached forwards and cupped her face with one hand. Etta shivered as her skin tingled under his touch and found herself leaning towards him.
Perhaps it was the way the moonlight barely lit the scene, perhaps it was the anchoring effect of his touch, or perhaps it was the way he looked at her. The fear melted away andEtta felt daring. She couldn’t be afraid any more, only slightly audacious.
‘Fine. Well done, I kissed you, and looked a fool, and now you found my diary. Perhaps I’m an idiot. But don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me.’
‘How’s that?’
‘Like … like I’m raspberry trifle.’
Max grinned at her, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. ‘Well, I do love Mrs Baggins’ raspberry trifle.’
Etta groaned, partly in memory of the evening’s pudding but mostly in relief at not being outright rejected. ‘Oh my god, I know, right? Jesus. It’s even better than the Marks and Sparks version. I swear that’s ginger cake at the bottom, you know.’
He leaned towards her; all of a sudden he felt terribly close. His hand left her face and gripped her waist.
‘I didn’t understand the half of that, but do you know, I think you might be right? There must be something truly magic about it,’ he whispered into her ear, right before he kissed her.
It was unlike any kiss Etta had ever experienced in her life. At first chaste and tentative, it seemed to quickly deepen as every feeling slowly unravelled. It felt to her as though tendrils of lust – and even perhaps, something stronger – were uncurling from a tangle inside her and winding themselves around Max.
He suddenly pulled back, looking as dazed as she felt.
‘Etta … we shouldn’t … Just by being here alone, I have wholly ruined you. Tonight. That night in the carriage – it should never have happened. It’s not fair. We shouldn’t kiss.’
‘I can’tnotkiss you, Max.’
He groaned and stood up suddenly, pulling her to her feet. ‘You can’t be seen here with me. If we were caught …’
‘I’m so cold. It’s very cold out here. Come in for a moment and help me get warm. You won’t need to marry me, I promise.’
‘I – we shouldn’t.’
Indecision crossed his face. She could tell he was weighing up his impulse for chivalry against desire.
‘It’sso cold, Max.’
