He snarled, the reluctant words emerging from clenched teeth. “A month.”
“Yes, of course.”
Thomas wanted to steer the topic back to Rose and away from him. “Do you truly own a brace of pistols?”
Her grin took on that mischievous bent again. “I truly do.”
“And do you shoot?”
“I absolutely do. We all shoot, even Cecily. Our father taught us when we were staying at the country estate.”
Thomas looked around, irritated by the continued looks they were receiving from behind fans and over the tops of champagne flutes. He urged her on. “I should return you to your seat.”
She snickered as they walked on. “Oh, and the answer to your other question is yes.”
“I’m sorry... yes to what?”
They had reached edge of the row of chairs occupied by the chaperones and spinsters, all of whom were watching Thomas and Rose, curiosity in their eyes.
Rose faced him. “You were an adorable boy back when you were taking refuge on the roof of Newbury Hall. You were rakishly cute when you were home from school on the occasional holiday. And you have made a remarkably handsome man, despite all your flaws.”
“My flaws.”
“Yourmanyflaws,” she replied, then grew serious, releasing his arm.
“How did you know I spent time on the roof?”
Her cheeks flushed a beautiful rosy color, making her blue eyes sparkle. She pursed her lips a moment, an action Thomas was beginning to adore. Rose’s voice softened. “You lived next door. The window of my bedchamber faced that part of your roof. And girls, apparently, develop an interest in boys much sooner than boys find girls fascinating.”
His chest tightened at the thought, stirring an emotion he couldn’t quite name. “Rose...”
“You have a good family. Never take that for granted, Thomas. I think you are doing exactly that.” She took a deep breath. “And never forget that your good looks, like so many other things in this world, can be taken from you in a heartbeat. Everything can change in an instant.”
Chapter Four
Pat.
Pat.
Rose snuggled deeper beneath her covers, ignoring the repeated and insistent touches on her cheek.
Pat.
Her bedchamber remained shrouded in darkness, which meant it was not yet dawn. Far too early to stir.
Pat.
She brushed it away, but a semblance of consciousness broke through her sleep-addled brain... followed almost immediately by an image of tousled black hair and curious dark eyes. Lips so full and soft, they begged to be kissed. High cheekbones and a strong jawline. A lingering scent of mint and sandalwood.Thomas. If only he would touch her cheek. The thought of his fingers stroking her face sent a line of warmth down through Rose’s chest. A modicum of good sense pushed it away.Stop it.
Pinch.
Rose yelped, her hand pressed to her cheek. “Athena! Claws?” She stared at the long-haired ginger cat who sat next to her on the bed. Athena’s face was placid, as it almost always was, but the brush-like tail snapped back and forth twice, followed by a guttural sound somewhere between a chirp and a mew.
“I should lock you outside at night. Do you know what time it is?”
The tail twitched.
“Of course you do. Time for the kitchen maids to be up kneading bread and slicing gammon for breakfast.” Rose pushed back the covers and stood up. “Well, do not be a pest. Take your treats and go outside to annoy the birds.” Rose padded to the door and opened it.
