Page 41 of Indecently Daring

He stumbled back with a gasp, moving away from her as he realised what he’d done. Her eyes grew wide too as she came back to her senses.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her fingers touching her lips with wonder.

The sight shot straight to his groin, and Harry closed his eyes on a groan.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Harry, we… we were very bad.”

“Very bad,” he rasped, nodding, raking a hand through his hair.

“In church!” she whispered, sounding utterly mortified.

“Yes.”

“Against the altar!” Her voice grew higher with every word.

“Yes,” he said again, wishing his heart would stop crashing about, for it was making it exceedingly hard to breathe, let alone think rationally.

“Oh, dear.”

Harry dared a glance at her to see her staring at him nervously. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright, and she looked…. His heart lurched in his chest.

“Ought we to apologise?” she asked, wringing her hands together, so earnest and sincere that Harry longed to hold her to him, but that would only get him in deeper.

“I certainly ought to, but you are not to blame, Miss Cadogan. You’re too tender-hearted, that’s the trouble, but we know the difficulty now, and… and we must endeavour not to spend any time alone together.”

“Tender-hearted?” she said in confusion.

“I think it prudent we keep away from each other from now on. It’s for the best.”

She still looked puzzled. “But there’s the auction.”

“Yes, well, obviously we need to get through that, but you’ll be going up to town soon enough, I imagine. For the season?”

“Yes,” she said uncertainly.

“Well, then. There you are. We only need to stay away from each other until then and… and the problem will go away.”

“The problem will go away,” she repeated, looking rather hurt, which he hated, but it was for the best. If he was alone with her again, things… things could get out of hand.

He must not be given another opportunity to take such appalling liberties. What if she came to the vicarage, for example? Providing Jeb wasn’t home, that would be perfect. They could go to his room and… No! What the hell are you thinking? This was temptation at work. This was what happened when he wasn’t vigilant. It was so easy to get seduced into taking a little taste, just a tiny drop, and before you knew it, you were downing your second bottle, spinning out of control.

“It’s for the best,” he said again, as much to convince himself as her.

It didn’t feel like the best; it felt wrenching and depressing and entirely wrong, but he did not dare deviate from the path he’d worked so hard to remain upon. It was hardly the first time temptation had come calling, but he had always fought it and known it was for the best. Why, then, was there this awful sensation of doubt and anxiety at sending her away?

“I see,” she replied, and she stood very straight, her shoulders rigid, hands in tight little fists. “Well, in that case, I had better be going.”

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak in case he changed his mind, in case the wrong words exploded out of him, for they were crowding in his chest, and he didn’t quite know what to do about it.

“Goodbye then, Harry, I mean… Reverend Martin.”

Harry winced at the correction, once again the feeling of something very wrong sweeping over him. He watched her go, heard the heavy oak door of the church close behind her and still could not make himself move. Eventually, he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other and made his way back to the vicarage.

“Afternoon, rev,” Jeb piped up as he entered the kitchen. “I done all me chores. Want some tea? I can make a pot.”

Harry frowned, struggling to focus on the words. “What? Oh, well done, Jeb, you’re a good lad.”

“Shall I make a pot, then?” Jeb asked, his expression quizzical, before adding, “You going to take your coat off, or are you not stopping?”