First shock, then need and desire. Althea had focused on his lips, strong and so close, and she’d been contemplating leaning in closer, to touch hers to his when Winifred called out.
How could she have forgotten herself so quickly, or that five girls were in the parlor, where they could see her, not to mention that servants were about.
Goodness, her face was on fire from embarrassment.
She needed an excuse to leave until she could regain her composure. Glancing at the greenery piled on the floor she quickly scooped it up. “I’ll take this out to be burned,” she announced. “It must all be burned before midnight, isn’t that what you told me.” She hoped that her voice was calm and did not betray her embarrassment, or that nobody noted that she was suddenly speaking too quickly and with forced happiness.
She might have fooled the younger girls, but not Melcombe and certainly not Delia who eyed her with suspicion, bordering on resentment.
One moment had wiped away all the trust she’d built with the oldest.
“Or goblins will appear,” Winifred exclaimed.
They’d already discussed why none of them wanted goblins in the house. It was a fable that Althea hadn’t heard before, but it was another superstition the children believed. At least Winifred still believed and possibly Lila, but the older ones happily went along. If all greenery was not removed from the house and burned on Twelfth Night, goblins could emerge and none of them wanted that. Bad luck was to follow as well, but the children were far more worried about goblins.
Althea marched out of the house and continued until she came to where the fire already burned.
Althea gave a quick nod to the footman who was attending the flames and tossed the dried evergreen then watched them ignite, smoke billowing and flames growing.
What had she done?
Nothing! She’d done nothing wrong.
She’d simply fallen, and Lord Melcombe had caught her.
He may have held her too long, and she should have disengaged herself, but at least Althea hadn’t kissed him.
Oh, but she had wanted to, so badly. Not only that, but her body had heated almost instantly, awareness and all sensations associated with need increased as his arms tightened about her body. She hadn’t wanted to let go but remain as she was.
There was no explanation for her physical response. No other gentleman had inspired such delicious thoughts of holding and kissing, or of want and need. She wasn’t even certain what the need was, but her body craved him in a manner completely foreign to her, and perhaps now she could understand why some misses lost their heads, as well as their virtue.
If Althea weren’t careful, it would likely happen to her.
Could a gentleman who cared so deeply for his nieces also care for her?
Did she dare ask? Should she be bold enough to risk her position?
She needed to think on the matter further, which she would do later this evening once alone in her chamber. She would weigh her options because yearning for him in silence would only become more difficult with each day that passed.
With determination, Althea set her embarrassment aside and returned to the house, only to find Lord Melcombe approaching, his arms full of more greenery.
“Miss Claywell,” he called.
“Yes.” She feared what he wished to say.
“I wish to apologize.”
“You saved me from taking a fall,” she reminded him. That was all that had happened she reminded herself.
“Perhaps I should apologize for what I wanted to do.”
Her cheeks reddened. “There is no need to do so for something that did not occur.” Though she desperately wanted to know what it would have been.
“Had Winifred not said anything, I would have kissed you again.”
“Why do you wish to kiss me?” At least now she would receive an answer to the questions that plagued her.
“To be honest, desire.”
