Page 68 of The Work of Art

Arthur looked at her steadily. “You’re right. I haven’t. And I’ve no wish to intrude upon your privacy now.”

“Oh, no. It’s not an intrusion. You’re always quite welcome. It’s only that, if I’d known you wished to see me, I would have made some effort to put myself in order. I’ve yet to change into a fresh gown, and Violet hasn’t arranged my hair.”

“You look very beautiful.”

“Thank you, but I…”

He took her hand in his, silencing her speech. “Here, love,” he said, tugging her gently toward him. “Let me hold you awhile.”

Philly’s eyes were wide and questioning, but she didn’t resist him. She came to him willingly, only to gasp in surprise when, instead of merely embracing her, he took her by the waist and lifted her onto his lap. She clutched at the front of his coat, the skirts of her gown frothing around his breeches and top boots.

“Closer still,” he urged. “You seem very far away from me.”

Philly needed little encouragement to wrap her arms around his neck and lean into him as he held her close.

Only then did Arthur begin to relax a little. It hadn’t been enough to hear her voice, or even to see her. He needed her in his arms. In truth, after such a scare as that note had given him, he needed her in his bed. “Say something to me, Philly,” he whispered into her hair. “Anything. Even if it’s only to tell me that I must let you go.”

Her face was pressed against his cravat, her words so soft it was a miracle he heard them. “You mustn’t ever let me go, Arthur.”

He closed his eyes in relief. What had he been thinking to keep himself from her these many weeks? What had been the purpose of it? A fortnight of intimacies no greater than chaste kisses on her cheek or her forehead, and every evening, without fail, the monumental struggle over whether or not he should go to her in her room. Why the devil had he put himself through it?

His conscience had been his only barrier. It had seemed to him something worse than ungentlemanly to take liberties with Philly after how he’d hurt her. But when she’d kissed him in the stable yard, his gentlemanly resolve had begun to weaken. And the fear of losing her to some dastardly plot by Moreland had weakened it even further. Now, holding her in his arms, he was rapidly discovering that he had no gentlemanly resolve left at all.

“Would you like me to come to your room more often?” he asked carefully.

Philly didn’t respond right away. Instead, she gave it a moment’s thought, seeming to choose her words with the same care as he’d chosen his. “Yes. But only if you’d like to.”

Arthur didn’t know whether to laugh or to groan. Is that what she’d been thinking? That he didn’t want to come to her? “I’d like to very much.” He moved his hand slowly up and down her slender back. “Indeed, if I go without you even one more day, I believe I shall run mad. I’d stay with you now if I could.”

“Can’t you?”

“Regrettably no. I’ve business I must attend to downstairs.”

Philly rubbed her cheek against his. “Then I’ll not keep you.” She began to pull away from him.

He tightened his hold on her. “Stay with me like this a minute more, sweetheart.”

He wondered that Philly wasn’t shocked by his outrageous behavior, but in response to his entreaty, she only nestled deeper into his embrace, settling herself against him as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to come into her room unannounced and hold her on his lap.

“Arthur, do you still carry the hairpin I gave you?”

“Always.” He threaded his fingers through her thick tresses. “Why do you ask? Are you short of hairpins at the moment? Is that why you’ve let your hair down in the middle of the day?”

She gave him a faint smile. “Nothing of the sort. It was in such a tangle when I came back from settling Persy that I had to unpin it. Violet was going to dress it again after we finished unpacking.”

“I’d rather you left it down.”

“Would you? I confess I wouldn’t mind it, but the servants would be bound to think me the veriest hoyden.”

“If we lived somewhere all alone, just the two of us without a single servant…” He pulled the bulk of her hair out of the way so he could place a gentle kiss upon her neck. “I’d have you wear your hair like this every day.”

Her eyes closed briefly as he kissed her again. “Do you know what I would have you do? If we were all alone?”

“What’s that, my dear?”

“I’d have you in your shirtsleeves the way you were on our wedding night.”

He nuzzled her cheek. “You liked that, did you?”