“I went back for it after I was sure you made it to the palace safely.”
I let the pads of my fingers brush over the soft beads. They glimmer in the candlelight, and my breathing catches as I watch.
“I know you have much finer pieces,” Simon says, “but I hoped this one would make you smile.”
“No,” I tell him quickly. A flash of anxiety crosses his face until I go on. “No, I don’t have a piece that’s better than this one.”
We look at each other, and it might just be the two of here. No one else. But the sensation passes as soon as it washes in, with Thomas Culpepper suddenly bowing before me.
“Pardon the intrusion,” he says smoothly. “May I have the next dance, Your Majesty?”
I want to say no, and because of that, I know that I need to say yes.
“Of course,” I answer with a smile. Thomas nods to Simon and takes my hand, gently pulling me back out to the floor.
We move in time with the rest of the dancers, my body taking me where it’s meant to go. When Thomas and I face each other, moving backward and forward with a little hop, he speaks so only I can hear: “You need to guard your emotions, Catherine. Especially in public.” My heart stutters at his words, but I keep moving to the music. “If I didn’t come over when I did, it wouldn’t have taken long for someone else to see you. Especially your uncle.”
I look out to the crowd, watching as my uncle Norfolk stays in deep conversation with a group of three other noblemen.
Thomas is waiting for my response when I gaze back at him. “I am guarding my emotions,” I tell him. “I’m trying to.”
He leads me into a turn. “Well, try harder. And smile as you do it.”
“Is that your technique?” I ask him. “You prefer to lie with a smile?”
“It’s what I do,” he answers easily. “But I never said I like it.”
We do another couple of hops, moving along with the dancers. “You continue to surprise me, Thomas. I’m really starting to question whether you’re diabolical or decent.”
He walks around me in a circle, as the other male dancers do with their partners. “I often wonder the same thing about myself.”
Then it’s my turn to walk around him. Thomas keeps his face so at ease, it’s as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “So, which is it?” I ask. “Diabolical or decent?”
He takes my hand, giving my knuckles a gentlemanly kiss as the final notes of the song echo through the crowded room. “I’ll let you know when I decide.”
Chapter Seventeen
Hours later, I’m tossing and turning in bed. I’m holding my wrist over my head, moving my bracelet in the moonlight as I think of Simon. We didn’t get to talk much tonight, but our few hidden moments are fresh enough in my mind that I feel them on the top layer of my skin. The teasing touches. The whispered words in my ear. I want to lean into them, but I can’t. I’m so fidgety that I roll onto my back with a groan. I try to take soothing breathes to clear my head. They don’t work. I know there’s only one thing that will cure my pent-up energy, but I haven’t done that here. Not yet at least.
I tilt my head over and Theo isn’t anywhere in sight. He must be sleeping in his favorite chair in my sitting door. Reaching down and under my blanket, I run my fingers up the top of my thigh over my nightgown. The material dances across my agitated skin, and just when I begin to bunch the hem up to find what I’m after, there’s a quiet knocking on the door.
I instantly sit up, but I don’t move otherwise. My ears strain to decipher if the sound was the wind or an actual knock. I hear it again a moment later, and I cross the room knowing that I probably shouldn’t. It could be anyone at the door. The king might have come home early. Mistress Marshall could have decided she hates me again and is here to murder me. My curiosity still wins out, and I open the door by the smallest degree.
Simon is standing outside, and I swing the door wide in shock. I have no idea how he got past the guards and into my apartments, but as I frantically look behind him to see if anyone’s around, the outer room is completely vacant.
“Lady Rochford snuck me in,” he says. “I told her I had to see you.” I shake my head and pull him into my room, shutting the door behind him. I don’t know if I’m more stunned by the fact that he’s here or that Lady Rochford was the one who got him here, but I’m in a near daze as I take in the sight of him. He’s wearing just his britches and a white linen shirt. His cheeks are rosy, and his breathing is faster than normal. He’s just as restless as me.
“I know I shouldn’t be here,” he says. “I know it in my mind, but when I try to stay away, I feel pulled back to your side and I have to find you.” He takes my hand and pushes it against him, over the thrumming of his heartbeat. “Whatever this is, I’ve not felt it before. Do you feel it?”
“I feel it,” I tell him.
An endless beat goes by as we stare at each other. My chest is tightening, and I slip my arms around his neck, drawing him down to me and pressing my lips to his because if I don’t, I might implode.
Our kiss is a balance of need and fear. We know the consequences, but they’re not here now. We’re trying to keep our feet on the cliff, but we’ve already jumped. His tongue steals inside my mouth to collide with mine, and when he gathers me against him, I can feel the heat of his skin in a way I haven’t before. The material of my nightgown is hardly a barrier, and the thin shirt that he’s wearing allows me to uncover every sculpted muscle.
I pull at the hem of his shirt, ready to lift it up and off him when he stills my hands and leans back.
“Lily, wait.” He’s breathing hard. His pupils are dilated. It takes real restraint to not launch myself at him again, especially after he’s called me Lily.
