Page 72 of The Lady’s Great Escape

“Is that so? I didn’t feel that way with you.” How strange to be able to speak of their situation so freely. No regret.

“Nor I with you, but what we have is quite different than a simple sexual encounter. We have a friendship.”

“Yes,” she agreed, happy that he felt the same way as she did. It wasn’t often they didn’t agree on something. Even when he said things to rile her up, it was generally only to tease her. In most things they were aligned.

He helped her down from her carriage when they arrived at her home.

She brushed a hand over her skirts though a wrinkle was of no concern when her hair was down and she was heading in for the night. She hurried inside so no one would see and Kit followed.

In the drawing room, she poured them each a brandy and after kicking off her slippers she tucked her feet under her on the settee. Kit took the chair opposite her.

“I hope both of us can find a similar friendship in the person we choose to spend our time with. I understand friendship is not required for my needs, but it is welcome. Sex is wonderful, but I also enjoy the moments afterward immensely.”

“As do I,” he answered and then looked around as if surprised to find himself in her drawing room. “I assume Gray is still out.”

She nodded. “Carousing, I’m sure.”

“I don’t miss that.” He shook his head.

“Can I get you another brandy?” she asked, looking down at his empty glass.

“I should probably go. I only wanted to see you home safe. Which I have.” He gestured toward the door but made no move toward it. “Thank you for tonight, Celia. It was most successful.”

“Yes. I believe it was.”

His gaze moved down to her lips and for a moment she thought he might kiss her. She felt the familiar anticipation of his touch, but the haze in his green eyes dissipated and he cleared his throat. “Goodnight, countess.”

There was a moment of awkwardness as he left the room after kissing her cheek in a friendly way instead of touching her lips.

Perhaps it would take more time to get them on solid footing. It had felt natural to kiss him. She would need to be careful of such things so they didn’t fall into old habits.

She retired to her room where Nettie helped her change before crawling into her empty bed.

What would it be like to have Lord Rathmore in her bed? She wondered about his Christian name. Surely, she couldn’t be expected to cry out his title in the heat of passion.

As she imagined how it might be between them, she suddenly realized the face in her fantasy had shifted from that of Lord Rathmore to Kit. And the dream itself was not a vision of the future, but a memory from their past.

The last time they’d made love.

She tossed and turned, hoping to change the vision back to the man she had a possible liaison with, but she couldn’t grasp on and keep him there.

Eventually she gave up, hoping her faulty imagination was due to her lack of experience with anyone other than Kit. Surely it was normal for her to recall the person she knew rather than the one she did not.

At least she hoped as much.

One thing she was certain of, tomorrow night she would make sure she didn’t go to bed alone.

*

The next night,Celia turned in her bed and groaned at the ceiling in her bedchamber. She couldn’t sleep. Frustration had taken over her body and made her too stimulated to rest.

She had not gathered up enough courage to invite Rathmore to her bed, despite them spending another evening together flirting and sharing heated looks. It seemed the man wanted to court her when all she wanted was…

She couldn’t even think the word without thinking of the act. And thinking of the act brought visions of Kit to her mind, naked visions.

Twice she got out of bed planning to go to Kit and beg him to alleviate the need she felt, but she couldn’t set herself up for such rejection. And he would be right to reject her.

It was clear he was getting closer to Willa and seemed happy. He’d complained when Celia had met him at the ball that night that he hadn’t been able to take Willa riding because of poor weather. But she saw how much time they’d spent talking. He’d danced with her twice. Both waltzes. Celia couldn’t do anything to jeopardize what Kit was building with the young woman.