Philippa explained her discovery in as condensed a manner as she could manage. How the letter had been hidden, that it had been written by one of therealartists of the illuminated manuscript, how all the other copies of the manuscript had been bought up.
“I made a copy of the letter.” Philippa turned her back toward the table and pulled the kitten from her chest in order to retrieve a folded square of foolscap.
Tommy’s eyes tracked every movement as Philippa’s fingers slid beneath her bodice.
“I’m not an artist like Marjorie.” Philippa pulled out the copy. “I’m afraid it’s just the text in my ordinary handwriting, with none of the flourishes.”
“It’s perfect.” Tommy reached for the folded square and tucked it inside her coat next to her heart. “Graham shall investigate those names at once. Expect an odious amount of detail in an impressively short period of time.”
“What if there’s no information to find?” Philippa asked. “Whoever they are, Agnes and Katherine need justice, too. Those poor…women…”
Tommy’s hand was rising toward Philippa’s bodice. Slowly. Affording Philippa time to knock her hand aside or back away. Which she was definitely going to do. Any moment now. Probably.
Before Philippa could make her decision, Tommy’s hand passed Philippa’s bosom and stopped at her shoulder, where Tommy lifted an errant kitten hair and tossed it aside.
Of course. Of course it was that.
Why would it be anything else? What was Philippa thinking? Was shenotthinking? All she ever did was think. Why did her best skill fail her so utterly whenever it came to Tommy?
And…what was wrong with Philippa’s breathing? Was her bosom heaving?Was this a heaving bosom?Even her heart was behaving erratically. What was happening?
Tommy arched a brow as if she sensed Philippa’s turmoil and found it amusing. The heavy-lidded expression was similar to the night before, but somehow even more rakish. The slight quirk of Tommy’s lips distracted her in a way she had never been distracted before. She should stop staring at Tommy’s mouth at once.
Why couldn’t she stop staring at Tommy’s mouth?
It felt like Tommy was closer than before. Even closer than they had been in the garden, which was ridiculous because she had beentouchingPhilippa in the garden, and here they were standing a foot apart. That was why she’d had all the time in the world to notice Tommy’s hand rising toward her bosom.
Shoulder. Tommy had plucked cat hair from Philippa’sshoulder.
There was nothing less sensual than that.
And yet it had felt as though the light touch were a mere precursor, a hint of something bigger, better. An appetizer before the main course.
Mayhap that was why Philippa was still staring at Tommy’s parted lips. Even though the moment had stretched on far beyond what was acceptable or explainable.
She wanted Tommy to do it again; to touch her hip, to pluck cat hair from her bosom. She wanted to know if this electricity crackling between them was all in Philippa’s head, or if it was as real as a lightning storm, filling the night with white-hot bursts of power and danger.
Tommy’s fingers moved. On the side hidden from Mother’s guests.
The slender hand was coming not toward her bodice, or even her side, but just enough forward for Tommy to brush her fingertips up the back of Philippa’s hand, from her knuckles to her wrist.
She felt the caress all the way to her toes. In places that weren’t even her toes. Every inch of her body seemed alive to the possibility of Tommy’s touch…and her cold dead heart gave its first unmistakable flutter. Several flutters. Possible apoplexy.
“Philippa!” Mother called.
“Coming,” Philippa replied breathlessly.
She did not move. If Tommy had touched her like this last night in the garden, Philippa might have thought she meant to kiss her.
And if that charged moment had felt anything like this one…
Philippa would have wanted it to happen.
18
Acolorful hot-air balloon lifted a man in a large basket higher into the sky, to the delight of a thousand-person crowd. Despite the rollicking spectacle, Tommy’s attention was on the woman next to her. Philippa always looked stunning, but she was even more beautiful with wonder lighting her eyes.
“Just think how much better this event would have been,” Tommy murmured in Philippa’s ear, “if you would have let me stuff Captain Northrup in there and send him out to sea.”
