Something within him seemed to unravel then into something brighter and freer than she had ever seen upon his face.
He held her hands a few moments longer, as though reluctant to release them.
Charlotte felt the steady warmth of his touch—and beneath it, something less easily controlled.
‘I had always considered myself a disciplined man,’ he said quietly. ‘You have given me cause to reconsider.’
The softly spoken words did absolutely nothing to steady her.
‘I now find myself,’ he added after a pause, his voice lower still, ‘in the unfortunate position of harbouring thoughts which—for the present—must remain entirely unacted upon.’
Charlotte became suddenly and painfully aware of herself.
A deep warmth rose into her cheeks.
For one suspended moment, it seemed he might forget himself altogether.
But the restraint returned almost instantly.
Slowly—reluctantly—his fingers loosened before he stepped back, though his eyes never left hers. A deep sigh escaped him, as though even that small distance caused him pain.
Silence lingered between them.
Flustered by the intensity of his attention, she cleared her throat with feigned composure.
‘But on one condition.’
Mischief flickered once more within her eyes.
He lifted a brow, though amusement lingered in his eyes.
‘Oh?’
‘We must continue uncovering the Odd Fellows and find some means of deciphering that black book.’
He let out something halfway between a sigh and a laugh.
‘And how precisely do you propose we accomplish that?’
Charlotte smiled.
‘Did I ever mention my friend Miss Anne Lucas? She happens to be remarkably gifted at solving puzzles.’
