Page 33 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

She stopped and turned to him. “But I should have told you before now. Once I knew you better. But by then, it was awkward. I was afraid you would be angry with me because I’d kept it a secret, which is a very foolish reason, I suppose, for continuing a deception. But I was afraid of losing you.”

“Thisbe.” He took both her hands, gazing down into her eyes. “You won’t lose me. I have no idea what’s going to happen, and I fear what could happen, but not seeing you again is not an option.”

Thisbe smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Desmond turned his head, and his mouth met hers. For a time, all else ceased to exist. He had no worries, no uncertainties, no entangling guilt. There was only the softness of her body in his arms, the touch of her mouth on his. Their kiss turned hungrier, deeper, and he pressed her body into his.

There was an awareness somewhere deep in the back of his brain that he shouldn’t be doing this, that it was dangerous, inappropriate, absolutely mad, but he ignored it, too caught up in the pleasure to pay attention to anything else.

When finally he lifted his head, his eyes glazed, his heart pumped, the blood running like fire through his veins. He gazed down into Thisbe’s face, as softened and dazed as his own, and realized how close he was to losing all sense. His arms loosened around her, then fell away as he took a step back, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to quiet the rampaging hunger inside him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—We mustn’t.” For the first time, he glanced around them. They were out of sight of the house, thank heavens, though Lord knew anyone could have walked up on them at any time in the last few minutes. He had been too wrapped up to notice. That would certainly have put an end to his hopes with Thisbe. No parents, no matter how easygoing or egalitarian, would look kindly on a man seducing their daughter in the garden. “I—I should go.”

“Very well.” Thisbe nodded, looking no more inclined to leave this moment than he was. “When will you come back?”

“Tomorrow,” he replied instantly. “No, I suppose that wouldn’t be correct, would it?”

“It sounds fine to me,” Thisbe replied. “You can meet the rest of my family.” She glanced in the direction of the house. “I suspect my grandmother will be downstairs now. I won’t subject you to her just yet, or you might not return.”

Again he felt a frisson of unease at the mention of her grandmother. Thisbe had been apologizing for not telling him who she was, and all the while he was hiding something worse. But he quailed at the thought of revealing to her that he was a thief—or, at least, a would-be thief. He would feel ashamed before her gaze, small.

And after she’d just said that people always wanted something from her! Even if he were able to convince her that he had not known of her connection to the dowager duchess, Thisbe would surely have doubts about his goals. She would be bound to wonder if he really wanted her, or her grandmother’s possession.

So he said nothing when she linked her arm through his and led him back up the path. Skirting the garden, Thisbe went around to the gate in the wall he had noticed last night and opened it. She turned to him, and he bent to kiss her goodbye, then kissed her again.

This wasn’t helping him leave. He pulled back reluctantly and took a step away. The way she was looking at him didn’t help, either. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, and finally, with an effort of will, he whipped around and left the yard. He couldn’t resist, however, looking back. She was standing in the open gate watching him, and that sight alone was enough to warm him even in the January chill.

CHAPTER TEN

DESMOND WAS IN no hurry as he walked to Professor Gordon’s laboratory. Even though he had told the man that he wouldn’t break into the house last night, he suspected that Gordon would be hoping he had. The professor would want a report from him—and he would be anything but pleased when Desmond told him the whole thing was off.

Gordon was waiting, clearly eager to talk to him, but fortunately the presence of the other students kept him from running to question Desmond. Desmond sat down at his table and began to work, but between thinking of Thisbe and feeling Gordon’s intent stare, it was difficult to concentrate. His tablemate, Carson, glanced over at him curiously once or twice. Desmond endeavored to look as if he were deep in thought.

He could not hold off his mentor all evening, however, and after the others left, Gordon hurried to lock the door, then swung around to Desmond. “What did you find?”

Desmond took a breath. “I’m not doing it.”

“What?”

“I can’t. The dowager duchess is Thisbe Moreland’s grandmother. It’s the house where Thisbe lives. I can’t break into it and steal something.”

Gordon stared at him blankly. “Who in the name of heaven is Thisbe?”

“Aside from being the Duke of Broughton’s daughter, she’s...a friend of mine.”

“A friend?”

“Yes. I met her at a lecture. She’s a wonderful person, and her family, what I’ve seen of it, are nice people. Good people. I cannot steal from them.”

“You know the duke? The dowager duchess?” Gordon’s eyebrows soared upward. “Desmond...is this a jest?”

“No, I haven’t met the duke or the dowager duchess, but I met the duchess and three of Thisbe’s siblings.”

His mentor continued to stare at him. “I can’t believe it.”

“I was rather taken aback myself,” Desmond said drily. “I was lurking outside the house—which, I must tell you, is unbelievably enormous. No one could ever search all through it. As I stood there, thinking what a hopeless task it was, Thisbe came out the door.”

Gordon plopped down on a nearby stool, looking stunned.