He asked her what she wanted, and part of her had an answer. She wanted him.
She put her hands on his shoulders, and then it seemed easy to let them slide down and grab the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer.
He took the hint, and when their mouths met again, Poppy closed her eyes, giving herself over to the pure pleasure of this closeness. It would be so good to have time to explore this feeling, not just to snatch little bits of bliss when no one was looking.
She broke off to inhale a ragged breath. Every time she got near Carlos, both her gowns and her reputation were threatened with ruin.
“We should stop,” she whispered, very much wishing they could keep going. Then Poppy looked up at the house, distracted by something, though she didn't know what.
“Poppy,” he was saying. “Please listen…”
A light flashed in a window on the top floor. Poppy blinked. “Carlos,” she whispered. “It’s happening again.”
“What is?” he asked, still quite distracted.
“The light!”
He turned to look, and straightened up when he saw the light flash again. “Someone’s up there now.” His expression cooled, the sensuality replaced by something else entirely.
“I bet it’s Blanche,” Poppy said. “Did you notice how fast she left the drawing room after dinner? She had an appointment with a lantern.”
“Let’s find out.”
He took her hand, and the pair moved swiftly back toward the house. Poppy was grateful he didn’t even consider telling her to stay behind this time. She was as eager as he was to find out who was aiding the smugglers.
They reached the door of the house when Carlos stopped. “We can’t be seen strolling up to the top floor together.”
“Just take the servants’ stairs. They won’t question you. I’ll take the main steps and wait at the door to the final flight to the top.”
“I’ll see you in a few moments.”
Poppy walked to the main stairs, hoping that no one would find her and try to talk. She heard voices in the drawing room and dashed past before anyone could see her. The stairs were vacant, but she ran into Mrs. Hobbson on the next floor.
“Are you still up and about, dear?” she asked. “I thought you’d gone up. Elowen and Elisa already retired.”
“I’m just going to my room now,” Poppy said. “Good night!”
She hurried on. When she reached the green baize door that marked the stairs to the top floor, Carlos was already waiting for her.
“Do you think they’re alone up there?” she asked.
“One way to find out.” He reached for the doorknob, then looked back. “Stay behind me. Just in case.”
Poppy was suddenly nervous. What if the person was armed with more than a light?
Carlos eased the door open and moved up the stairs with surprising stealthiness for his size. Poppy followed, hoping her feet wouldn’t encounter any loose or squeaky floorboards.
They got all the way to the top without alerting the signaler. Carlos pointed to the window, and Poppy saw a black silhouette outlined by the only slightly less dark window. The figure held a lantern in one hand and was slowly moving it across the window in front of her body.
Poppy took a deep breath. She knew it. Blanche was involved after all.
She reached out and put one hand on Carlos’s arm. He looked back, curious. Poppy tried to convey with her expression that she should confront the signaler first—a woman would be less apt to startle her into doing something dangerous.
Whether he quite understood or not, Carlos nodded and held still. Poppy stepped around him and moved closer to the shadowy figure.
“Put that lantern down,” she ordered in a quiet, but she hoped authoritative, voice. “And tell us exactly what you’re doing.”
With a startled gasp, the other woman whirled around to face them. She didn’t put the lantern down, so the light illuminated her frightened face.
