Page 19 of To Steal a Kiss

Would she want to?

He was supposed to have been a faceless, nameless creature, someone to give her a sweet little kiss and boost her confidence. Well, it hadn’t been a sweet little kiss, and as for her confidence….

Perhaps she’d be annoyed to see him, or embarrassed? Regretful?

Nate’s stomach twisted as he surveyed the rows of chairs where the less popular ladies spent their evenings. As his gaze passed over them, eyes widened, cheeks reddened, and lips parted in surprise. Men of his ilk did not hunt here, but then women like Alice ought not to be here either.

So, it ought not to surprise him that she wasn’t.

With a dejected sigh, he resigned himself to searching the entire ballroom and turned around. As he did so, he heard a slight squeal of pain as his foot pressed down upon a delicate silk dancing slipper.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon,” he began, and then the words died in his throat as he looked down, and there she was. Any sensible greeting, any acknowledgement of who she was, or their last meeting fled as his stared into eyes the blue of a summer sky. Well, there was his answer then. His heart gave an erratic thump in his chest, and he swallowed.

God help him. It hadn’t been the moonlight.

The daydream of a life that was full and rich and filled with family and love and warmth hit him hard and fast, knocking the breath from his lungs. Hopes and desires Nate had thought lost and buried under years of sin and experience forced their bright tendrils out of the darkness he’d consigned them to, and lit the future with possibilities.

He watched as she stared up at him, an expression of pain and irritation chased away as her eyes widened and her porcelain skin blazed as red as that glorious tumble of russet curls. There were freckles on her nose, he noticed, the observation provoking a rush of tender feelings that exploded in his chest. Nate had seen nothing in his life so endearing, so lovely, so….

Hell’s bells, it was worse than he’d realised.

“N-Nate,” she stammered, blinking up at him.

He nodded, at a loss for anything to say. Better if he left it to her. After all, if she wanted to cut him—The thought that she might horrified him, cutting him to the quick.

She glanced around, and then back at him. He had no idea what she was thinking. Was she pleased to see him?

“Why?” she whispered, the word almost lost among the chattering crowds.

She said nothing more, but he knew what she was asking. Why was he here? Was it a coincidence, or was he here for her?

With anyone else he might have prevaricated, he ought to for sure. He knew that.

“I had to see you again,” he said simply, and watched a smile dawn on that lovely mouth like a rising sun, lighting her face and making her eyes sparkle.

“Oh,” she said, before looking around them and frowning. “Where…?”

She trailed off, her blush blazing brighter than ever, and Nate grinned.

Chapter 7

Dearest Prue,

I wish you were here. Something extraordinary has happened. I feel I could burst with excitement at any moment. Matilda kept her promise to me and with her help, I completed the dare!

Oh, Prue, everything has changed.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Alice Dowding to Prunella Adolphus. Duchess of Bedminster.

24th June 1814. A quiet corner, the Eversleys’ Ball, Regent’s Park, London.

“Where are we?” Alice asked, minutes after escaping the crowds and running down shadowy corridors.

“I have no idea,” he said, laughing.

He felt like a boy again, light-hearted and carefree, which was utterly ridiculous. Nate had no business being here, let alone being so blithe about it. He was Nathaniel Hunt, notorious proprietor of London’s most exclusive gambling club. A reputation as a charmer and a libertine, whilst not strictly accurate, was nonetheless his to own. He ought to be ashamed of himself for dragging sweet little Alice Dowding into his shady world and into shadier rooms.

Instead, he was as giddy as a child with the promise of sweets and a puppy.