“I’m not a defendant, Jemina.”
“A hostile witness then to my secrets.”
Lifting off his spectacles, he took his handkerchief and wiped his lenses. “Why not leave all this law business to me? I’m quite good at it. Alas, I’m just a servant, serving at the whims of the Lord Mayor.”
Those thumbs of hers kept moving, opening and closing. “You make yourself sound so small.”
“Rest assured, I’m a big lad . . . ready for all challenges.” He rubbed at his face. “You want to tell me what your ritual is all about?”
“I don’t want to disturb you.”
Well, that was annoyingly considerate and wrong since they were conversing.
Those hand of hers kept moving. A dance? Some sort of code?
It definitely was a tactic to confuse him. It worked and left him staring at her perfect oval face, her smooth cheeks loaded with freckles. Those dots foretold a love of the outdoors. He could definitely see Jemina frolicking in the sunshine or barefoot on beach sand.
Her palms rested on her lap, the beginnings of her hips.
“Done with your ritual? Jemina, I can honestly say I was wrong about such formalities.”
She put a finger to her lips. “Shhhhhh.”
Then her hands lifted again, moving close to the window, thumbs sliding together then parting. Close. Parting, close.
He reached out and grabbed her wrists. “You will drive me insane. Do you do this on purpose to confuse me or to make me think about you constantly?”
“Maybe this is how I distract myself from thinking of you and the secrets you are silent upon.”
“We both need hobbies, Jemina.” He pulled her fingers close to his lips, enjoying how her eyes grew large with anticipation. “Or maybe we need to admit that friendship for us is not enough.”
Her eyes grew wide. That sweet mouth of hers parted. “What are you saying? You’re not going back to that ridiculous offer?”
He wasn’t, but it wasn’t ridiculous for two consenting adults.... Goodness, she had him defending what he didn’t want, well not all that he wanted. Hell.
“Marry me.”
“What? You jest.”
Daniel released her and shook his head. “Not a joke, more a plea. My offer is not why I asked you to join me today. I wanted to cement our friendship, but what better way than in matrimony. Then I won’t have to fret about you crossing the hedgerow to ravish me or burglarizing Finchely because it would be your home.”
“Are you always joking?”
“Only if you say no. Oh, and I forgot, marriage takes care of your concern about the longevity of my affections. As you can see, I intend them forever.”
She lowered her eyes. “I see.”
That was it? He blathered and bared his soul for nothing. “Jemina?”
“If I asked you something would you tell me the truth?” Daniel wanted to say it depends, but he found himself nodding.
“Tell me of your parents, their marriage. Lady Lavinia indicated it was not a happy one. You’ve told me Lady Shrewsbury raised you, another indication of something unsettling betwixt the two. I want to know why ours would be different.”
The balance of this blurted gamble depended on what he said. The intimacy of his mind to hers, the openness is what she craved. He tugged at his cravat and coughed, waiting to see the desire in her eyes turn to pity. “My mother died young.”
“I’m sorry, D—”
“Of a broken heart. My father drank too much spirits. He always left and was always in his cups. He had no control. I heard he died from too much drink, choking.... Finchely was my mother’s. She grieved his loss and then died.”
