“Canceled?” Joseph had repeated stupidly. “Canceled bywhom?”
“Well, by your wife, of course, Mr. Chance. She saw to it all.”
“I beg your pardon?” Joseph had been certain he’d misheard.
“It’s all been taken care of, never you fear. Your wife was very thorough andemphatic.”
The conversation had revealed little more than this revised reality: the spot he had reserved to dock their brig upon return from Barbadoes had beenlet goby his wife.
The River Thames was the busiest shipping port in the world. Without the guaranteed slip, he and his partners would have no place to dock their brig on the crowded river, a circumstance that could extend for weeks, if not months.
“This might mean finding a dock outside of London,” Joseph said. “Imagine the losses. And that says nothing of the warehouse space.”
“Before you convict her,ask her,” said Stoker. “She may have some surprise solution.”
“Oh, she’s full of surprises,” scoffed Joseph.
They rounded the corner at Chesham Place, bound for Wilton Crescent. Joseph scowled at the shiny new sign that marked the street. He’d left Tessa at the last townhome on this street some ten months ago.
“If she’s bolted from that house, I swear,” Joseph said, “I cannot be held accountable for my actions.”
“I’m on the brink of bolting myself,” said Stoker. “I only agreed to come as far as Hyde Park. You’re on your own when we reach the house, Joe. I’ve no wish to see Sabine.”
“And I’ve no wish to see Tessa,” said Joseph.
“That remains to be seen.”
They walked half a block in silence, looking up and down the street. Belgravia was a hive of activity; lurching wagons, crews of masons and carpenters, and lines of men digging to contain the endless mud. The neighborhood held the promise of great majesty and aplomb, but at the moment, it was still being built, block by block.
Joseph had visited the neighborhood only twice. Once before his wife’s confession of her pregnancy, and once after. On the first visit, he had regarded their forthcoming union as an unexpected love match—and how lucky they were. He’d gone to Belgravia to ensure that the house in which his new bride would live was safe and comfortable, and to make the introduction of the aunt with whom she and the other brides would live.
On the second visit, he’d known the truth, and his heart and pride were in tatters. He came only to deposit Mrs. Tessa Chance with her friends and go.
And now the third visit: an unscheduled call for which he did not have time, to ascertain why a cancella—
A bell jingled across the street and Joseph looked up. They had just made the corner at West Halkin. The bell rang again, a shop door opened and closed.
Directly in front of him, not three yards away, stood a petite young woman in a drab beige dress and a bonnet the color of mud. Her arms were loaded with parcels. A lock of pale hair, bright against the dark silk, dropped from her hat and fell across her face. She blew it away. The September sun was bright and she paused on the sidewalk and turned her face up to the warm light.
Joseph stopped walking. Stoker continued and Joseph held out a hand to stop him. And now,everythingstopped, the whole rest of the world.
Her dress and hat were different, but she looked almost exactly as she had the very first time he had ever seen her.
Tessa.
Joseph grabbed a handful of Stoker’s shirt in his fist. Stoker swore and shoved him off, but Joseph didn’t notice. The only sound was blood rushing in his ears. He was shot through with a jolt of anticipation, like the snap of a mandolin string.
But what did he anticipate? Confronting her? Demanding answers? Boasting about what a great success the expedition had been?
His throat began to close. He drew a ragged breath. He was sweating.
And then he felt the soft, buoyant feeling of his heart, rising in his chest. He felt... delight.
And desire. Hot, hungry desire.
His outrage took on a new shape, its true shape, and it had nothing to do with the cock-up with the docks or the lost money.
The true outrage was that he wanted her still. Mind. Soul. Body. All of her. Even now, even after all these many months, after all the deceit and subterfuge.
