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Back to pouting, but let her. Nothing good could come from giving in and it would break every code he’d set forth for himself. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth. He had to give her something.
“I will assure you—so you don’t go sniffing around, I haven’t been in this area of the country in a long while. It’s been over two years since I’ve engaged on the east coast.” Or with anyone at all, not that she needed to know because that would invite far too many questions. He itched the back of his hand. “Does that satisfy you?”
Her eyes were like dinner plates. She blinked, slow, deliberate blinks. What had he said wrong? Urs nodded though and a soft smile shone through the darkness. She reached for his hand and squeezed, a jolt waking every cell. He’d never be able to sleep now, but it no longer mattered.
“I think you need a pet. Do you enjoy horses?” she asked.
Jay laughed and pulled her close to his body. Perhaps he had less control over certain things than he’d believed. His heart pounded in his ears, but she didn’t pull back.
This was madness. Urs met none of his former criteria. Too much mess, too dangerous—the contents of his pocket sang to him.
He pushed down the urges and the itch and the mist in his eyes. He shot her his most charming grin.
“They can be fun. Just don’t purchase me a monkey.”
She moved around so the sash of her robe brushed his. She pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his forehead.
Flames shot through his body. Torture. He yanked himself back. She was now a blur in white.
Smile.
Jay pressed through the lump and gave her that. He could say the right thing, he could.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Any response would be so inadequate, and moments later, his arms were around her waist, his lips on hers. She moaned but pressed her body so it was flush against his. Urs gripped the neck of his robe as he dipped her back.
When she parted her lips for him—heaven. She was pure paradise or the closest he’d ever feel, warm and intense and bold, and Urs, pure, Urs, pretending to be no one but herself. Jay released her and closed his eyes.
“We should try to sleep.”
She pressed her head to his chest, her soft curls tickling his chin.
“We should.” She took his hand once more, warmth radiating through his skin. “Come. We’ll go together. It’s dark in the house.”
He nodded in agreement. If only her hand could remain in his until it was light again.
Chapter Fifteen
The rain rapped the windows in the upper parlor the next morning. How could her family be out in this weather? Rachel and Lydia were at the synagogue, of all places. The service was the same each week and to stroll in the rain, soaking one’s garments, when you could pray at home, couldn’t be a worthwhile endeavor.
Her father, uncle, and Isaac, having completed their prayers at home, were somewhere even less necessary; some men’s social club, a place where she’d never be permitted. Ursula folded her arms, crinkling her bodice. More chores for Rose and it was her day off. Her aunt and uncle’s servants were much less accommodating.
Her mind wandered to Hugo and the note he sent asking for a meeting. What was she supposed to say to him, or do for him? At least the weather could give her a reprieve from that. For now. She toyed with her mother’s ring.
Why were her memories of the woman so faded? And why did being in the house tease them so? She’d vowed not to pry, not to hurt her father that way—make him feel lesser than, but it was as if a ghost called to her, taunted her with what she didn’t know.
Jay shuffled the cards. His collar flopped and exposed the top of his bare chest. He’d forgotten at least two buttons. He should really call for assistance in the morning if he couldn’t manage on his own.
He yawned. How long had it been since he’d slept? Was it just at her uncle’s house or did he wander all night everywhere he went?
How exhausting every day must be for him. After just a few minutes of waking in a cold sweat and joining his wanderings, she was sure her complexion would never quite be the same. Rose had told her she was silly but—Ursula yawned as well. Must be catchy.
“You should get more sleep, Urs.”
“You’re still going to call me that?”
“I think we’re familiar enough, yes.” He shuffled again, the cards fanning at a mesmerizing speed between his fingers.
