“It’s just all the noise,” she said. “You know?”
“I know,” Daniel said, and her heart softened even more. He put on his spectacles, and his fingers lingered against his brow. “The different perfumes.”
“Frederick Bassingthwaite’s laugh.”
“You win,” he said wryly, and Alice’s heart grew so soft it was almost easygoing. She found herself smiling at him. The realization shocked her, and she quickly straightened her expression back into professional sobriety.
Daniel sighed. “This mission is exhausting. Miss Darlington hasdiagnosed me with both rabies and a fatal case of tinnitus in my liver. Someone stole my pocket watch. And there wereraisinsin the ice cream tonight.”
“We are also still getting comments about our relationship,” Alice said. “At dinner, Mrs. Etterly declared herself amazed I managed any sleep with a husband like you. I think she was suggesting you might try to assassinate me in my bed.”
“Hm,” Daniel answered in such a bland tone it could have been served for dinner in a hospital.
“Perhaps we ought to choreograph some marital gestures,” Alice said, “to strengthen our disguise.”
“What exactly do you mean?” Daniel asked, caution shadowing his eyes.
“I noticed the Rotunders holding hands earlier today.”
“Holding hands.” He made it sound as if she had asked him to unblock a lavatory.
“It should be easy enough.” Advancing her right hand, she waited, and after a moment of reluctance Daniel took it with his left.
“Er, I think the palms go together,” she said. “And you should probably not brace yourself in that manner, as if you are about to pull me into a headlock.”
He released her hand, tried again.
“There,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. Something a little wilder than satisfaction shivered through her body, but she ignored it. “Now we look entirely married.”
Daniel considered their clasped hands with some doubt. “There may be more to it than this.”
“Try holding a little tighter.”
He obediently hardened his grip. “I am not hurting you?” he asked, hearing her breath catch.
“No.” She inhaled more carefully. His hand was larger than hers,stronger. She could see faint scars across his tanned skin, and the wedding ring on his finger thrilled her inexplicably. Deep inside came a tug of sensation, as if he was pulling dreams out, old secret dreams she had long forgotten. Withdrawing her hand carefully, she curled its fingers. Daniel pressed his own hand against his midriff as if it burned.
“That’s probably sufficient hand-holding practice,” Alice said rather faintly. “What else can we try?”
Daniel frowned in thought. “Perhaps some mild caressing?”
“I am unsure what you mean. Please demonstrate.”
He lifted a hand toward her again, and Alice had all she could do not to catch it, twist it around his back, and force him to his knees until he begged for mercy. But she restrained her professional instincts, staying still—at least until he brushed a stray lock of hair from her temple. Then she shivered all over.
“I’m sorry,” he said, jerking his fingers away. “No light touches.”
“It’s all right, I accept this is necessary,” she said. “Husbandly. It did tickle, but this is why practicing is a good idea. I can build up my endurance. Ultimately, I should feel nothing when you touch me.”
“I’m not sure that’s how it works between a husband and wife. You should probably always feel something.”
“Are you certain? That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”
“From my observation, marriage seems to have little to do with comfort. Anyway, I think we’ve done enough for—”
“You need to kiss me.”
Tilting his head, Daniel gave her one of his gorgeous smiles, tender, quizzical, all too brief. “I beg your pardon?”
