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Tahlia drew in a swift breath of protest, but it was captured as his lips settled more fully over hers. The gentle pressure wasn’t aggressive but was instead gently teasing. She couldn’t move now. For the brief second that his lips left hers she could do little more than stare up at him, but saw little beyond his face before his head lowered toward hers once more. This time, his kiss was more forceful; his lips demanding far more than her submission. They were urging her to return the caress. She tried to remain still; to remind herself that this was the one man she should never allow close again. But when one long arm slid around her waist and drew her bodily against his solid warmth, she knew she could do little more than surrender.
His lips caught her soft sigh. His body gave her the strength she needed to remain upright. In that second she knew that in spite of the time they had been apart, nothing had changed. When his lips pressed deeper, urging hers to part, the reality of what they were doing slammed into her with full force. Jerking back, she blinked rapidly and pushed against him.
“We mustn’t,” she whispered as she glanced furtively around them and straightened her skirts. “I can’t.”
Although nobody could see them, her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and anger. It wasn’t him she was angry with, it was herself; for allowing her guard down around him again.
What are you thinking? Do you know who this is? This is Connor Humphries! A warning voice was screaming at her.
Tahlia closed her eyes against the wave of mortification that swept through her. She wished the ground would open and swallow her up.
What must he think of you? She thought morosely. He must think me a brazen hussy who will allow men whatever liberties they wish to take whenever they want to take them.
With that, she took a physical step backward and put more distance between them.
“It’s alright,” Connor assured her gently.
“It is not alright,” she countered flatly. “It cannot ever be alright.”
She pushed past him, eager to leave before she did something they both might regret, like allow him to kiss her again. However, she had taken no more than a few steps when a gasp of horror escaped her. She didn’t even get the chance to scream before the looming black bulk of a carriage appeared out of the smog and slammed to a stop inches from her toes. Her horror grew as she watched the door suddenly swing open.
Ducking to one side to avoid the door hitting her saved her life. It put her further away from the gasping hands that appeared out of the darkened interior and tried to snatch her off the street.
“Connor!” She s
creamed.
Slapping at them she stumbled backward. Her arms flailed wildly when she caught her heel on the kerb and became unbalanced.
“Get off me,” she screamed when the hands turned into a darkened figure.
Connor grabbed her around the waist and hauled her away from the danger. Before he could turn around to get a good look at the man in the carriage, it began to roll away. Within seconds it was swallowed by the smog. The only indication that it had been there at all was the dull rumble of the wheels over the cobbles.
“What the hell do they want with you?” Connor demanded. All trace of their earlier closeness had been replaced with outright annoyance now.
“I haven’t got a clue.”
“Don’t lie to me, Tahlia. What the hell are you involved in?”
Thankfully, Tahlia was spared having to answer by Cecily, who appeared, pale and trembling, out of the gloom.
“Oh, thank heavens I found you,” she gushed. “I have been searching everywhere for you. I have been up and down this road, and the next, more times than I care to count. What happened? Where did you go?”
Tahlia threw Cecily a glare that warned her to stop asking so many questions. She couldn’t answer right now.
“Let’s go home,” she muttered but didn’t wait to see if anyone was going to follow. Pushing away from Connor, she stalked toward the end of the street, glad to see the back of the place.
“This way,” Connor ordered once he had caught up with her. He glared accusingly at the maid. “We are going to have to walk to the main street and can get a carriage from there. Try not to get lost in the smog again. Your mistress needs to get home.”
Cecily lapsed into silence behind them and followed close behind this time.
Tahlia couldn’t decide which was worse, the questions she had no answer for, or the stilted silence that settled over everyone as they marched toward Henry’s.
An hour later, Connor closed the front door to Gillingham House and watched closely as Tahlia removed her shawl and murmured a few words to the concerned maid.
Cecily studied him carefully before she turned and hurried away. Connor didn’t give her a second glance, though. His attention was locked firmly on the mistress of the house: Tahlia.
“What is going on?” He held a hand up when he read the defiance in her eyes. He suspected from the way she glanced furtively around the hallway that she intended to lie to him. “I want the truth, Tahlia. Don’t tell me that someone has tried to get your jewels and your bag off you in one morning, and then tried to snatch you off the street, merely because you are a pedestrian. Those were no random crimes. Those people knew what they were after and didn’t care if they had to take you to get what they wanted. What do you have on you that they want so desperately? What’s in there?” He added as he pointed to her bag.
