“It is. I can?—”
“You’ll not offer repayment. I purchased two others, and yours was the cheapest.”
Clearly in his eyes, the discussion was closed.
“Very well. Tell me, how long has it been since you last saw your brother?”
“Not long enough,” he muttered.
He ran his eyes over her face slowly as she did the same to him, and something in the cool air changed between them. The tension climbed, and Eliza’s chest felt tight.
“I don’t know what it is about you,” he whispered, tugging her closer until her breasts brushed his chest. Until their mouths met.
Shock had Eliza stiffening at the first tentative touch, and then she gripped his lapels. Soft, she thought. His lips were not hard as they should be. One hand released hers and went to her spine, pressing her into him until nothing separated their bodies.
It was a slow and thorough exploration he made of her mouth, and Mungo only released Eliza when he was ready.Butshewasn’t ready and wanted to pull his mouth back down to hers.
“Why did you do that?” Her words were a harsh whisper.
“It won’t happen again.” His were cold, unlike the kiss they’d just shared.
In quick, efficient movements, he unwound his scarf and wrapped it around her neck. He then walked back down the stairs.
“Return to the house now, Miss Downing,” he called back over his shoulder. “You are needed.”
Dear God, Mungo Fraser just kissed me, and I enjoyed it.
It must be the emotional turmoil, Eliza rationalized. Neither of them were themselves, and that had provoked a kiss.
“Push it down inside with everything else, Eliza,” she muttered, following Mungo from a safe distance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was decided that Gray, Leo, Alex, Ellen, Calder, Eliza, and Mungo would go to the tea shop. He wasn’t sure why so many were needed, but each had a reason for wanting to be there.
Some of those reasons were sound. Some of them, he suspected, however, were because Nightingales did not stay behind when something was happening, even if what was happening was trudging through a bitterly cold London day to hopefully question staff from an employment agency.
Mungo had collected the carriage from the stable and was now waiting outside number 11 Crabbett Close with Benjamin, the Nightingales’ footman. The horses stamped and snorted, their breath pluming in the frosted air.
“Miss Alvin knitted me this.”
Mungo looked at the blue woolen scarf Benjamin had wrapped twice around his scrawny neck.
“It’s right warm.”
He grunted, hunching deeper into his coat, and took a moment, now that he was away from her, to think about what he’d done in that rotunda with Eliza Downing.
You’re an eejit is what you are.
What had he been thinking, kissing the woman? The taste of her would haunt him, as would the feel of her lovely body pressed to his, even considering the layers of clothing between them. He could still feel her fingers, small and tense, where they’d curled in his coat as if she’d needed him in that single, stolen moment as much as he’d needed her.
I’m a fool.
Bram had sent him up to check on her after she’d left them. Mungo had knocked on the door, and she’d sent him away with a polite, brittle voice. He’d then returned to the parlor where Gray had told them the details he knew about Eliza’s family and the circumstances surrounding their deaths.
Bram had asked him then to have more tea brewed. In the kitchen, Bud told him Eliza had left the house.
Rather than yelling at Bud for letting her, Mungo had pulled on his coat and followed.
