Nicole once again stared at a blank piece of vellum. She couldn’t summon the will to write her mother and tell her she was in London. Mother was in the country this time of year. There was no chance Nicole would run into her, but there waseverychance her mother would hear about her appearance at Lord Allen’s dinner party last night. Still, she didn’t want to write her. There would be too much explaining to do, that, at the moment, Nicole was not prepared for. She didn’t intend tolieto her mother, but she couldn’t tell her the entire embarrassing truth either, and frankly it was none of her mother’s affair.
She’d been keeping things from her mother for years, hadn’t she? What did a bit more hurt? She’d never told her mother about the time she sneaked out to the stables when she was fifteen years old and rode her horse in the darkness. She’d never told her mother about herwork with the Bow Street Runners. She’d certainly never told her mother about the time she kissed Corporal Grimaldi at Grandmama’s ball.
***
It was true. Nicole had never been kissed before and now she was certain she’d never recover from it. Corporal Grimaldi’s mouth claimed hers. His lips pushed hers open and his tongue plunged inside, exploring every bit of her mouth. It was like drinking from a fountain on a hot day. She couldn’t get enough of him. Her arms moved up to wrap around his neck and he pulled her against him, hard. She gasped into his mouth as he continued his gentle assault. His lips twisted to meet hers, her hips lifted to meet his. By the time he grabbed her upper arms and pushed her away, they were both gasping.
“Why did you stop?” She blushed for asking such a bold question, but the words had flown from her lips.
Letting go of her arms, he bent over and rested his palms on his knees, still breathing heavily. “Sweetheart, if I didn’t stop, we’d end up doing far more than you bargained for.”
She vaguely understood there was more, much more that went on in private between a man and woman. That had to be what he was referring to, but the kiss had been so magnificent, she hadn’t wanted it to end.
She blew out a breath. “I didn’t know we’d be kissing when I agreed to meet you out here.”
“Neither did I.” He stood up straight and flashed a grin at her.
She took a tentative step toward him. “Since we’ve already done it, might we not do it again?”
He seemed to contemplate her words for a matter of seconds before he reached for her and pulled her to him again and then oh, that delicious, dangerous mouth was claiming hers again, drawing a moan from her throat even as passion drew the breath from her lungs. She wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to capture more of his lips. He lifted her in his arms, molding her against him to better position her to receive his kiss. She’d never known a man’s body was so unyielding. His arms were like a cage she never wanted to escape.
The crack of a twig behind the mews made his head snap up. A different type of tension tightened their embrace, one of alarm. He carefully, reluctantly set her on her feet. His hands lingered at her waist long enough to ensure she was steady, then he stepped away from her, his breath coming in hard pants, staring at her as if she was a magical being.
She lifted her hand to touch her bruised lips and stared back at him in a similar state of wonder. “Thank you,” she said inanely.
His smile returned, slowly, this time with the smallest hint of shyness to it. “I should be thanking you.”
“I’ve never been kissed before,” she continued. “And that was quite… quite… extraordinary.”
He was quiet for a moment, his gaze darting above her head before he focused on her face again. “I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t come out here to kiss you.”
“Neither was I.” She took a deep, fortifying breath. She wasn’t certain she would ever be the same again after that kiss.
They stared at each other and exchanged smiles as if they’d both discovered something astonishing.
“I should take you back into the ballroom now,” he said at last. “You’ll be safe there.”
She studied the sharp, handsome lines of his face. “I feel perfectly safe here with you.”
***
Nicole sighed. Her first kiss with Mark had been unexpected and magnificent. They’d kissed once more before she’d rushed back into the ballroom, asking him to call upon her the next day. He had.
She closed her eyes tightly and when she reopened them she refocused her attention on the blasted empty sheet of vellum in front of her. She decided to take a break from the exhausting task of writing and go down to the kitchens to see if there were any more of the delicious raspberry tarts she’d been served for breakfast. As she stood from her desk, a sharp knock on the door interrupted the silence.
“Come in,” she called, expecting to see Louise or Susanna. She’d asked Susanna to serve as her personal maid and all morning the girl had been making excuses to come by and ask how she liked her hair and her wardrobe. The young maid was obviously pleased with her new position. Nicole thought it was adorable.
The door opened and Mark strode inside. The look on his face told Nicole something wasn’t right. She studied him, clutching the back of her chair with white knuckles. “What’s happened?”
“I need your help.” His voice was tight.
She rushed over to him to study his face more closely. “Of course. Anything.”
He took a deep breath and scrubbed the back of hisarm across his forehead. “Bow Street suspects John was murdered.”
“No,” Nicole breathed. She clasped her hand over her mouth, bile rising in her throat.
“Poison,” Mark said grimly.
