‘Thank you,’ she said and tried to smile. But after what he had said, it felt false. She’d spent too much time hiding her real feelings about so many things, she was unsure of how to respond. And he was still looking at her as if trying to peer directly into her heart.
She was not ready to show him everything, so she looked away. The next smile she gave him was definitely false. ‘I hope you do not think me a coward for not wanting to face him. It was not so bad, really.’
‘I’ll wager it was,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘And that you are lying to me again. But instead of money, I’ll wager a kiss.’ He gave her another thoughtful look. ‘The perfect stake, I think. It will not matter whether I win or lose. The results are the same.’ Then, before she could think, he stood and leaned across the table to reach for her.
She was tired of talking and had no clue what her future might hold. But she was sure that she wanted another kiss from Thomas. So, she rose halfway out of her seat and let him pull her forward until their lips could meet. It was awkward. Or perhaps it was simply she who was awkward. But when was she not?
This time, it wasn’t all her fault. The table was between them, which made kissing difficult. But not impossible. It was almost as perfect as yesterday’s had been, and that had been the kind of first kiss she’d always hoped he would give her.
Today, he took several tiny sips from her lips, short, sweet kisses that began and ended before she knew what had happened. Then, as if he’d decided he liked what he was tasting, he angled his head and settled his mouth on hers. His tongue was gentle against hers, coaxing and then demanding a response.
She thrust hers back exploring his mouth, shocked at her own brazen reaction. But she had to do something to show him she was not afraid. He was still holding her hands as if it was the only touch he would allow.
Her body ached to be nearer to him. No. Not near. Merged. Melded. One. Her breasts ached. Her nipples were hard. Her soul hummed with desire.
Without warning, he abruptly pulled away and sat down, reaching to the floor for the napkin that had fallen from his lap.
A second later, Percy came back into the room, seemingly unaware that she was still collapsing back into her chair, flustered and confused.
‘Well, that was a damned nuisance,’ Percy said, dropping back into his seat. ‘The old man would not let me go until he had rained ten kinds of hell down on me. He had never experienced such rudeness… et cetera, et cetera.’ He grinned at the duke. ‘It was worth it, though. I thought for a moment that he was going to have the fit that would end him.’
‘That was not my goal,’ Thomas replied wryly.
‘Tell him your plans, Thomas.’ As she said his name, she had to fight the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl after what they’d just done.
Percy stared at her, suspiciously, then looked down and then up again. And then over to Thomas, then quickly back to her.
Was it a signal? If so, she did not know what it meant. She smiled and shrugged.
‘You have spilled mayonnaise on your dress,’ he pointed out, then gave her a fond smile.
Of course she had.
‘Tell Percy your plans,’ she repeated as she dabbed at the smear with her napkin.
Thomas looked at Percy. ‘Well, we have lured him out of his room, which was the first step.’
Percy nodded eagerly.
‘And tomorrow, I suspect he will still be angry.’
‘Oh, I am certain of that,’ her brother said nonchalantly. ‘He was in a towering rage when I left him. He will be furious for days.’
Thomas smiled. ‘I predict he will come down to breakfast. Or lunch, at the latest.’
‘And then?’ Percy said.
Louisa looked up, waiting.
Thomas continued to smile. ‘And then, Tom Smith will do something to prove his immeasurable worth. Something thatwill far outweigh the paltry sum that he is keeping from your sister.’
Percy smiled, satisfied. ‘I am looking forward to it.’
Thomas looked at her, probably expecting similar affirmation.
She had no idea what to tell him. What he’d just said was not really a plan at all. It was not even an outline of a plan. That would have required an ending. It seemed he expected that, between now and lunch, a man who didn’t exist would perform some sort of miracle that would make everything right, in a way it had never been before.
She’d known that his first idea, to create Tom Smith, was a bad one that would never work. Now, when they were deep in the woods and he had promised to lead them out safely, it was clear he was without a compass. Without a clue.
