Simon stared at her, at this remarkable woman who’d entered his life by chance – a woman who cared nothing for what people might think or say but rather for what was right. He wished he could see the world through her eyes and that he could approach the Duke of Coventry without concern for how he’d react.
“I reached out to him once. After Melanie died and I learned about Jeremy, I offered to help but Coventry never responded. I doubt he will let me anywhere near the boy.”
“I suppose that’s his prerogative given the circumstances, but making another attempt now could help clear your conscience.”
God, how he wanted to kiss her, more now than ever before. He wanted to blot out the stain on his soul with her sweetness, bask in the feel of her lips on his own, and explore her gorgeous body until they were both left gasping for breath.
Twelve days. That was how long it had been since he’d met her. In the days since, he’d forced his mind to remain on task, to think of her as nothing more than a temporary fixture in his life. It hadn’t been easy. She was a flesh and blood woman after all, not a table or a chair to be tossed out when he desired another. Hell. He was starting to worry he’d never desire another woman again. They would all be measured against Ida from now on and fall short in the process.
“I’ll have tried,” he murmured, no longer thinking of Coventry but of something far more enticing. His hand moved. He leaned in, unable to stop the inevitable kiss that had been in the cards since the moment they’d met.
The gap between them decreased and—
Ida shot to her feet and smoothed out her skirts while he tried to stop his head from spinning. Christ! She must have sensed his intent. And she hadn’t wanted any part of it.
Well. That was like a cold bucket of ice water over his head.
He stood, cleared his throat. “It’s getting late. I should probably head home.”
She didn’t try to stop him. “Right. Um.” Her cheeks, already flushed, turned a brighter shade of pink. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Simon allowed himself an inward smile as he took his leave, his heart a great deal lighter than it had been in a long time. Ida had been right. Speaking about the past, confiding his concerns and his guilt, had made him feel better. But what really gratified him was the realization that in spite of the pretense, the wedge she’d forced between them, she couldn’t quite hide the effect he was having on her. Not that she hadn’t been trying. She had, to the point where he’d started wondering if he’d been wrong to imagine a shared attraction.
That doubt had been dismissed minutes earlier by her blush, the longing in her eyes, and the need for resolve written in her features. She wanted to surrender, but something held her back, and he had every intention of figuring out what that something might be. So he could destroy it.
A missive arrived from the captain of The Soaring Falcon two days later, much to Ida’s relief. She was desperate for progress in the case so she could get her mind back to it and away from the gorgeous man in whose company she now spent most of her waking moments. During the past forty-eight hours she’d scarcely thought of anything else besides the fact that he’d almost kissed her.
Afraid of where such intimacy between them would lead, she’d quickly sidestepped his advance, which had led to her repeatedly wondering what it might have been like, felt like, if she’d allowed it. To her dismay, the question had even invaded her dreams, where the answer she’d been provided had left her feeling both agitated and wanting when she’d awoken.
If her dream was anything close to reality, she truly was denying herself a splendid experience. Not that this helped alleviate her concerns. Which was why she’d dreaded him broaching the issue the following day when he visited her for their daily deliberations. She didn’t want to ruin things between them, but neither did she dare submit to her own desire until she knew doing so would be worth the risk of a broken heart.
Thankfully, he’d been as eager as she to ignore the subject. With few words spoken between them, they’d reviewed what they’d learned so far. When she’d thought to ask him if he might be able to visit the Old Bailey and inquire about the judge who’d tried her father, he’d promised to have his secretary look into it. The tension Ida had felt since his arrival had eased a little, but then the modiste arrived for her dress fitting and Simon had departed, though not without assuring her he would return the following day.
When he’d done so, the missive from the captain had already been delivered. It suggested a meeting aboard his ship the following afternoon.
“I brought my carriage,” Simon said when he came to collect her. After responding to the captain’s message, they’d agreed to see him together. “If you’re ready, we ought to get going. The traffic on the way over here was dreadful.”
Ida set the new knitting project she’d begun working on aside on the low table next to her chair and stood. Simon picked it up and turned it one way and then the other, studying the work in progress with interest while she went to fetch her bonnet and shawl. As usual, he’d used his own key and had walked in without bothering to knock or make his presence known before locating her in the parlor.
“What are you making?” he asked when she returned.
“You’ll see.” She smiled in response to his frown. “Shall we?”
“Hmm. Yes.” He returned her knitting to where she’d originally placed it and followed her into the foyer. “Do you have the captain’s message with you, just in case?”
“It’s in my reticule,” she assured him.
The tight lines bracketing his mouth underlined how seriously he was taking this. “Good.” He held the door for her. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like the judge we’re seeking will be easy to find.”
“Oh?” She turned to face him and was momentarily struck by how handsome he looked with the sunlight pouring over his skin.
“Winthorp, my secretary, spent most of yesterday trying to figure out who he was. When a clerk finally managed to retrieve the correct journal, the page of record was missing.”
“I see.” Disappointment settled deep in her breast. “We shan’t be able to question him then."
“No.” He handed her up into the carriage without further comment.
“Have you given any more thought to meeting with Coventry?” she asked once they were underway and neither had spoken a word for a while. Simon had been right about the traffic. She almost believed they’d reach the harbor faster by foot.
