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“Even if it involves Mr. Penrose?”
Lucy giggled and the darkness of the moment was gone, just like that.
Kate had spoken of her marriage, and her unhappiness, and it felt like nothing more painful than . . . memory. Just memory, fading as it was exposed to the light.
“Kate,” Lucy said, leaning even closer so that she could speak in a whisper.
Kate narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “What?”
“I’ve heard that in London all married women take lovers.”
She jerked back. “That’s not true!”
“I don’t know. I think it might be.”
“Well,” Kate sputtered, “it hardly matters. We’re not in London.”
“Still . . . Mr. York is from London. Perhaps that is all that matters. He provides the excuse of worldliness.”
“Nonsense! Lucy Cain, you should be ashamed of yourself.”
Lucy shrugged and one side of her mouth tipped up in a sneaky smile. “I’ll see if I can summon up the will.”
“Oh, I doubt you will bother.”
“Probably not.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Regardless, will you deliver this letter to your father?”
As if her work was done, Lucy stood and clapped her hands together. “I will. Good afternoon then, Kate. Forget I ever said a thing about it.” She retrieved her letter and set off with a jaunty wave.
But of course, Kate couldn’t forget. Not for a moment. Perhaps she did not need to kill off her manufactured husband. Perhaps she could simply think like a man and have everything she wanted at once.
Chapter 13
Aidan smiled into the snowflakes as he walked, thinking how Kate must be enjoying the weather. Perhaps he should buy her Sir William Perry’s account of his expedition to the Arctic. She’d likely adore the descriptions of unbearable cold. He made a mental note to have Penrose order the book as soon as they returned to London.
He didn’t want to think about leaving though. He felt content here, and not only when he was with Kate. But at the moment, all his good feeling had to do with the sight of Guys Lane ahead. His heart pressed against his throat in anticipation.
When he turned the corner, there was Kate, as if she’d been waiting for him.
She locked the front door of her shop and turned toward him, and when her eyes widened in surprise, he saw joy in them. Joy for him like embers glowing in the snowy dusk.
“You can’t keep coming here,” she said when she reached him.
Aidan blinked in shock. Whatever fantasies he’d had about how she’d respond after that intimate evening, this wasn’t it. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t have people talking.”
She was concerned about appearances, not his actual presence. Suppressing a smile, Aidan took another step back and clasped his hands behind him.
“I’m a married woman. People on the lane will gossip.”
“Are you asking me to come in through the back?”
One side of her mouth curved up as she brushed past him to walk up the lane.
He followed her around the corner and watched her tug her hood lower before she started walking again.
