She was silent for a moment. “I hope that I can choose the man who would be father to my children. I know better than anyone with whom I’d be compatible.”
That was a grand idea in theory, but Henry knew plenty of people in unhappy marriages that they had chosen to enter into themselves. And he knew plenty in arranged marriages who seemed quite delighted in their spouse.
He would be lying, however, if he said he wanted Mr. Smith to contract his daughter to another man. She did deserve to have a say in the matter. And he didn’t want to see her with another man who was unsuitable.
A small part of him didn’t want to see her with another man at all.
In the dark, he felt it was safe to press a small kiss to her fingertips.
Miss Smith snugged her body against his. Her voice grew husky. “My lips are quite cold, as well.”
In the dark, he felt it safe enough to drop his head and press his lips to hers. It was only responsible to keep all her bits warm.
Her breath heated his mouth. Her lips sought his just as eagerly. And when she opened her mouth and let his tongue slide inside, he had to assume that her body heated just as much as his.
He stopped thinking about the impropriety. They were trapped. Cold. She needed comfort. Heat.
He dug his fingers into her hair, angling her head to the perfect position.
After all, it was the responsible thing to do.
Chapter Twenty
Katherine
She could nolonger feel her toes. It might have been from the cold. It might have been that Mr. Evans’s kiss had drawn all her attention to only the parts of her that pressed against him.
She felt her belly, tight against his hip, and the flutters that each stroke of his tongue created there. She felt her hands, held tightly in one of his own. And her lips…. Well, she definitely felt those.
She had been kissed by a couple of her beaus before, but it had never been like this. She never wanted it to end.
“Hallo?”
“Let me look, milady.” Footsteps padded on the earthen floor. Then a throat cleared. Loudly.
Mr. Evans stiffened. His lips pulled away. Katherine’s body chilled, reminding her that she was still in an ice house. Alone with a dead body and Mr. Evans.
And the footman who was staring at them. The light from the open door displayed his knowing smile all too well.
She jumped from the attorney’s arms and shook out her skirts. “Thank you for attempting to keep me warm while we were trapped, Mr. Evans. It was most kind.” And without looking him in the eye, she fled, to the light, to warmth, and away from whatever that unsettling feeling was that only Mr. Evans seemed to elicit.
He followed her. As she blinked in the sunlight, he bent to whisper in her ear, “Attempting?”
She ignored that and turned to Lady Mary. “Thank goodness you came back.” She stomped her feet, trying to bring back some feeling. “The door was stuck.”
Lady Mary pushed her spectacles up her nose and frowned. “It wasn’t stuck. It was blocked.”
“What do you mean?” Mr. Evans asked, trotting back down the steps to examine the door.
The footman toed a thick plank. “I was heading to the stables when I saw Lady Mary trying to move this. It was wedged between the top step and the door. It is quite heavy, milady. You shouldn’t have tried to move it yourself.”
Lady Mary waved his comment away. “Did you hear anyone out here? Who might have done this?”
Katherine flushed. She hadn’t been hearing much of anything. Although they hadn’t been… doing what they’d been doing when the door had been blocked. They weren’t distracted then. She shook her head.
“Nothing,” Evans agreed. His face was grim. “So this was intentional. Why? What would killing me or Miss Smith accomplish?”
“Kill?” Katherine pressed her hand to her throat. “Surely no one wanted that.”
